And now for a little Friday-afternoon bonus post. Every day, on average, about five readers ask if I’m pregnant or confidently “call it”—whether in the comments, by email, on Twitter, Pinterest, Instagram, or even by carrier pigeon. That adds up to answering the question (and disappointing those who called it) roughly 150 times a month and nearly 1,800 times over the past year. The pregnancy chatter has even drifted into comment threads on posts that aren’t pregnancy related, like room updates and tour infographics. The bump-watch is real, apparently—we haven’t had one of those around here since 2010.
Before anything else: I’m not pregnant. My womb is currently uninhabited.
It’s genuinely lovely that so many of you are excited about the possibility of our family growing. That excitement is appreciated. At the same time, there are important reasons we’re cautious about timing and public discussion. Because of complications in the past (see Clara’s birth story for more on that), any future pregnancy for me would be considered high risk. That means the next pregnancy would need careful monitoring, and there is a 25% chance that a future child could face the same life-threatening complication that Clara experienced. Those facts shape our decisions, our timing, and the way we talk about potential pregnancy—both publicly and privately. Constantly fielding “Are you pregnant?” guesses can be emotionally tiring when there are real medical and emotional stakes involved.
I totally get that people who ask these questions usually mean well—truly, I appreciate your enthusiasm and support. I’d hug everyone if I could. Still, asking someone whether they’re pregnant can be tricky, so here are a few reasons why it’s often better to avoid making that assumption:
- It can imply weight gain. Sometimes I have a little belly—thanks, burrito—but it’s not a baby.
- It can unintentionally upset someone who has been trying to conceive or who has experienced miscarriage or loss. While I haven’t personally experienced that up to now, it’s a reality for many people and something to be mindful of.
- It can put someone in an awkward position if they are pregnant but aren’t ready to share the news publicly. That could certainly apply to us one day, and we’d prefer to be the ones to announce such personal news on our terms.
So consider this a small, uterus-centered public service announcement: when and if we’re blessed with another child, we’ll share the news when it’s safe and right to do so. We want to celebrate with you—and when the time comes, we’ll be so excited that you’ll hear it from us directly. We’ll give family the first heads-up, of course, but once we hit the safe-to-share milestone, you’ll know. And yes, if fate and medicine align and our family grows again, you might even see another t-shirt for Burger in the mix.
Until that moment arrives, we’re enjoying the present. Picture me sipping wine, eating sushi, and making the most of non-pregnant life alongside my sweet dog, my nail-gun-slinging husband, and our little miracle girl—who currently seems to know the words to almost every Adam Levine song (try her, seriously).
Thanks so much for understanding and for being so excited for us. I hope readers will be kind to one another in the comments—everyone’s coming from a place of love. In the meantime, we can all enjoy discussing other people’s royal bumps if that’s your thing—where is Princess Kate hiding that baby, anyway? For the record, my belly had already blocked my view of my feet by twenty weeks (see the second picture in the grid above), so clearly some of us aren’t great at stealth-baby concealment.