in praise of telling too soon

i just read this article on the mothering magazine website, and it made me feel really good. which is weird, maybe, considering the article is about miscarriage. but its title, "in praise of telling too soon," speaks to the author's positive experience sharing her life with her community. she miscarried at 20 weeks, and had to "untell" everyone she had told about her expected baby. she says:

"The thing about miscarriage that I most feared was that it seemed so invisible. I hadn't really looked pregnant yet; the baby was just a tiny thing (the size of a raspberry, the books said). With the code of secrecy surrounding the "don't tell too early" story, there did seem to be a residual sense of shame about what was happening; as though it should be kept in the realm of women's maladies that happen "down there," in the dark, that we're not allowed to talk about. But I knew that something real had happened to me; it was not invisible.

If I had kept my pregnancy and miscarriage a secret, if I had bought the shame story, then I would not have been real. I can't even imagine having to fake it with the most important people in my life: to pretend that nothing was wrong, during one of the most heartbreaking experiences of my life. That, to me, seems much more traumatic than having to "untell" and then tell the people who love you that you could use a little love and support. And then let them give it."

i really like this perspective. for me, sharing my joy--and my pain--with my community of family and friends (YOU!) makes my life meaningful. i don't want to hide things, the hard parts, out of fear.

a friend of mine said she sometimes had a hard time reading this blog because it made her feel inadequate--that the life i presented to the public seemed too perfect. noah appears angelic, i seem to adore mothering, aaron comes off as the ideal husband, we seem to have wonderful friendships and great adventures... and as i look back over the years i see that i have been very choosy with what i share here. i definitely tend to post the picturesque. i skip right over the pictures of noah with snot running down his face; i do not mention how aaron and i argue; i choose not to share my struggles with depression or lack of motivation, or my impatience with noah or his un-angelic behavior. but why not? i guess the ugly parts don't make for as nice a story. but they are just as true as the pretty parts, and without them the story of our lives isn't whole.

so i guess i want to say thank you to those of you who are willing to read the whole story (and who encourage me to tell it). thanks for rejoicing with us in our joys, and for mourning with us in our sadness. and for respecting the myriad of ideas that we spew forth daily as healthy parts of the process of finding our place. please stay with us on this crazy journey.