how to keep a sad secret

the secret won’t start out sad, it will be good, but still hard to keep: you will pee on a stick, you will stare at the blinking results window, you will take a video of you and your spouse waiting, just in case. the test will say that you’re pregnant and he’ll get a shot of your face, hand over mouth, eyes open wide. you will kiss. you’ll both cry.

the week will go on and it won’t be normal. you will log into facebook for the first time in years to join the local Moms group. you will go to Barnes and Noble and get three books on pregnancy. you will make an appointment with the hospital’s Midwives. on the phone, they will tell you congratulations. you will start a Baby Names note and look up names that remind you of trees. you will eat only healthy foods. you will swear you won’t get an epidural. the week will go so slow; all you will think of is the list of ways your life is about to change forever. you will take a bath and listen to bright eyes. you will cry because you remember being sixteen and now you’re going to have a baby. you will go on a hike and your spouse will take a picture of you in your puffy coat, holding your stomach and smiling. your due date is October 27 and you are so happy to have a halloween baby. you will know it’s too soon to tell anyone, but you will plan to tell your sisters when they visit next month. your parents, the week before that. you will imagine the look on their faces. their first grandchild. work will still need to get done and you will show up, slightly fatigued and holding a secret. your friends will text you like usual and you will try to be normal.

you will go to the bathroom before pilates and see blood on the toilet paper. you will remember that somewhere online said this happened sometimes. you will not be worried when you take a follow-up pee test. you will stare at the screen that says “not pregnant” for three long seconds until you call your spouse into the room. you will text your mom. she will say maybe there’s still a chance. you will know there is not. the bleeding will get heavier. your spouse will drive you to get sushi because it’s your favorite food. it will be fresh and expensive, but you will not enjoy it. you’ll cry at the restaurant when the server refills your water. you’ll come home and watch eight straight episodes of The Traitors. you will delete The Bump app from your phone. you’ll call off work the next day.

you will cancel your Midwives appointment. you will try not to cry on the phone. they will not say, I’m sorry for your loss. you will want to tell your friends, but won’t know how to bring it up. you will decide there is no good way. you will tell only a few, only the ones you talk to the most often. you will start the text hey, so i have some sad news and i’m not sure how to say this. you will know that you’re just spreading the bad feeling, making others feel bad too. you’ll have half a bottle of wine because now you can. you’ll get care packages from friends and a plant from your in-laws; you will feel so deeply, stupidly loved and it still won’t make you feel better. you will go to work and pretend nothing happened. you will talk to friends you love but haven’t told, and pretend nothing happened. you’ll be too deep in another conversation, you won’t know how to bring it up. you’ll keep taking your prenatals, the expensive ones that taste bad. you won’t be able to watch the pregnancy test video, but you won’t delete it either.

a month will go by and you will try again. you’ll have sex a lot and it will be fun half the time. you will try to see the positives: you can dedicate your life to your novel. you will try to write but you won’t care at all. you will go to pilates and try to be happy that your body won’t change. you will fantasize about getting really hot. you will be slightly obsessed with it, because it’s the only pro you can think of about not being pregnant. you will hate the word miscarriage because it makes you feel old. you will flip between Instagram stories and see only ads for maternity clothes. you will look through music festival lineups and think maybe you could go now. you will get your period on your birthday, and you will feel okay.

you’ll drink every day until your ovulation window. you’ll stop after that and only drink herbal tea. you’ll buy ovulation tests and wait for the smiley face. you will know the exact moment you conceive again. you will be proud of being so spiritually attuned. you’ll buy white overalls because they are roomy in the middle. you will go to your high school friend’s baby shower. you will hold your breasts every day and feel them getting heavier. your cat will sit on your lap more often. you will know what’s coming but be too nervous to say it. you’ll take the pregnancy test, but you won’t take a video. it will be positive, the second time in three months.

you will call the Midwives again. they will say congratulations again. you will keep the secret again. you will text your friends about books and bands and writing. you will redownload The Bump. your due date is December 27 and you are disappointed to have a Christmas baby. you will hold your thumb down on the maternity clothes ads. you will meet a new friend for drinks and feel anxious and want a beer. you will order a Heineken 0.0 and tell him you aren’t drinking “for secret reasons.” you will feel dumb, but the truth will come out soon. you will go on an anniversary trip with your spouse and drink Canadian sparkling water. you will take naked pictures of your body, like this for the last time. your spouse will take a photo of you in your big sweater, holding your stomach and smiling.

you will cramp on the way home. you will try not to worry. you will stare at the blood on the toilet paper the next day, and this time you won’t cry.

you will wonder how this works, how you’re supposed to do this twice. you imagine texting your friends, hey sorry soooo like it actually happened again. you feel embarrassed expecting sympathy for something that happened a second time. you wait for someone to ask you how you’re doing so you can bring it up. they don’t ask you, but you aren’t mad because you don’t ask them how they’re doing either. you will decide to tell about three of them. you will talk to the others like nothing happened. you will use a stopwatch to track your cramps; they will last 1-3 minutes every 2-4 minutes. you will get four hours of sleep and watch five episodes of Summer House.

you will call the Midwives and they will say Okay, not I’m sorry. you will keep taking your prenatals but otherwise stop caring about your body. you will think maybe you can escape the grief this time. you will try not to think about it. you will write your stupid novel. you will write your stupid substack. you will buy a short dress and a kind of sexy top. you will post weird selfies on instagram and know that it’s obvious that you are looking for attention. hailey bieber will get pregnant and it will make you feel so, so sad. you will get tipsy, listen to a glaive song, and cry about your miscarriage. you will know that you’re the first person in the world who has ever done this. you will open a bottle of wine and have bad movie marathons with your spouse. you will go to sleep whenever you want. you will wake up whenever you want. you will think, we couldn’t do this with a baby. then you will think, i am so sick of doing this. you will feel something missing, a phantom limb, a ghost in the house. you will try to push it down. you’ll dissociate, you’ll drink again.

it will become clear to you, suddenly, that you are causing yourself more pain. it will become clear to you, devastatingly, that you have to feel your feelings.

you will decide to skip this round, to not try this month. you will give your body and heart a break. you will talk to your baby, the spirit of them, that you felt inside you those few weeks. you will tell them they can come back whenever they are ready. you will cry again and feel softer. you will sit in the sun and feel warmer. you will still be really sad. you will write this entry, because it feels like it’s time. you will have no idea how to end it.