I think I've said before that some responses to my blog have been nothing short of sheer horror that I share my life. With everyone. Well, all blog readers. And everyone has access if they so desired.
A group of mums from Sebastian's school were having coffee one morning. We were having a discussion about secrets. They made an observation that I must not have any secrets because I tell it all on the blog.
This is not true. I have secrets. And I plan on keeping it that way. But I am by and large an open book. Thoughts come into my head and they tend to come out my mouth. It never occurs to me that something should not be shared with other people. Happy things happen and I tell people so that they can share my joy. Don't you get all happy when you hear about good things happening to people. When someone tells someone about someone just having a baby, I get very happy. I might not even know the new parent but it fills me with joy to know that someone has just had a joyous occasion such a that.
A great place for checking out secrets is this web site Post Secrets. I don't think this voyeurism. I think it feels good to get the secret off your chest.
When bad/sad/disappointing/frustrating things happen I pretty much apply the same rule. If I share it with someone it gets it out of my head and gives it a chance to just float away. The person with whom I've shared the awful news with is generally supportive and gives me a boost. Things that sit inside me just fester and build up.
Lots of women don't tell people they are pregnant until they get past the danger zone of 12 weeks. They keep it secret. I don't adhere to that rule. And boy, am I glad I didn't! No women in my family had really lost babies during pregnancy and I didn't fully appreciate the dangers associated with the first trimester. I was so happy when we fell pregnant again and Sebastian was going to have a brother/sister. I had my little heart set on that perfect little family. I told everyone and their brother that I was having a baby when I was just about 6 weeks a long. As I said before, in my head, out my mouth. Then I miscarried.
When I returned to work I was sooooo nervous. I just wanted to bury my head in a box. I felt sick to my stomach walking into that office. Then the most miraculous thing happened throughout the day. Not only was I not alone, I was surrounded by women who had similar experiences and men who had wives that had been through similar experiences. And yet we never speak about it. These people approached me with great care and compassion. They softly told me that it had happened to them and they knew the devastation I felt. And then they walked away. Leaving me feeling less like a failure. And more like a part of a vast network of kind people who really care about each other.
A joy shared is a joy doubled. A sorrow shared is a sorrow halved. Thank goodness, I didn't keep that a secret.