And now for a bonus Friday-afternoon post. Every day I get roughly five people asking if I’m pregnant or confidently declaring that I am—via comments, email, Twitter, Pinterest, Instagram, or even carrier pigeon. That adds up to answering the question (and disappointing those who guessed correctly) about 150 times a month, and nearly 1,800 times in the past year. The pregnancy chatter has even taken over comment threads on posts about unrelated topics like room updates and infographics. Holy bump-watch, Batman! We haven’t had that level of speculation here since 2010.
First, one clear detail: I’m not pregnant. My womb is currently uninhabited.
It’s genuinely heartening that so many people are excited about the idea of our family growing. But because of past complications (you can read Clara’s birth story for more background), any future pregnancy would be high-risk. There’s a 25% chance a subsequent child could face the same life-threatening complication Clara had, so that certainly affects our timing and mindset around trying again. All the “you’re pregnant!” guesses can be emotionally taxing when they happen day after day.
I know everyone asking means well—I genuinely appreciate the love and enthusiasm—but asking someone if they’re pregnant can be tricky for a few reasons:
- It can imply they’ve gained weight (sometimes I have a tummy—thanks, burrito!—but it isn’t a baby).
- It can unintentionally hurt someone who’s struggled with infertility or experienced miscarriage (I haven’t had those experiences personally, but I could in the future).
- It can put someone in an awkward spot if they are pregnant but not yet ready to share the news (which could certainly be the case for us someday).
This is a small, uterus-centered public service announcement to promise that when the time is right—if we’re blessed with another baby—you will know. We’ll be so excited about it that we’ll want to tell people. Heck, there might even be another T-shirt in it for Burger.
So please be patient. While we won’t tell every reader before we tell family, you’ll hear it directly from us once it’s safe to share. Until then, imagine me sipping wine, eating sushi, and enjoying non-pregnant life with my sweet pup, my nail-gun-wielding husband, and our little miracle girl (who currently knows the words to nearly every Adam Levine song—no joke, try her).
Thanks for understanding. I’m excited to see what the future brings, and I hope everyone will be kind in the comments—people’s hearts are in the right place. In the meantime, we can all spend a little more time speculating about Princess Kate’s royal bump. Where is she hiding that baby? By 20 weeks my belly blocked the view of my feet (see the second picture above), so I can only imagine that superior lineage comes with superior baby-hiding skills.