It Ain’t Your Business, Sorry

This is going to piss some people off. Most of them will be people who know me in “real” life and expect to be informed of certain things. So, I apologize. Don’t read it if you’re going to get pissed off. Or, read it and try to understand that it’s not necessarily against you, personally.

This is one of those rare personal-vent posts. One of those that I really do try not to write, or at least not to publish on my blog. At all.

But I’ve been sitting on this for over a month and it still pisses me off. So, I’m going to write it, once and for all.

About a month ago, someone told me that, “the way I handled my last pregnancy was very, very, very hurtful and unacceptable.”

Wait a second. The way I *handled* MY last *pregnancy* was *unacceptable and hurtful*?

First of all, I “handled” my pregnancy fine, and my doctor will agree. Even my boss would have to agree, even though he wasn’t allowed to cut my hours like he wanted to.

I “handled”, *we* “handled” my pregnancy fine. Both in the day-to-day aspects, the big-brother prep aspects, and the general pregnancy and birth aspects.

But maybe she meant that I didn’t tell her when she wanted to be told, and I let her find out through the grapevine.

Well, that really isn’t related to how I handled my pregnancy, is it? No, it’s not.

It’s related to when and how, and *with who* I decided to share the news of my pregnancy.

NOT to how I handled it.

I actually DID tell someone specifically so that she wouldn’t find out through the grapevine, and I really regret it. It was a waste of time, energy, and worry . . . that she simply wasn’t worth. Next time, I’m not doing that. She can find out, or not find out, through the grapevine.

But back to the topic.

It boils down to these two points:

  1. Who I inform, and when, is NOT related to how I handled my pregnancies.
  2. My pregnancies are MY business. NOT yours. And I don’t care WHO you are, unless your name is Yitzchak and you’re my husband, OR, you’re one of my children.

If you’re not my husband, and you’re not my child (and you’re not my boss, doctor, or whatever other high-up who needs to be informed) – then it’s NOT your business. We, Yitzchak and I, choose who to share news of our pregnancies with, when to share that news, and *how* to share it.

If you didn’t make the cut, there’s a reason.

Some people didn’t make the cut because we didn’t feel it was fair to ask them to keep their mouths shut. Because we didn’t feel like it was fair to ask them to keep a secret from someone close to them. Even though we really, really wanted them to know. (If you’re under age 20, reading this blog, and know me in real life, this is the category you fall into. Promise to G-d.)

Others didn’t make the cut because I can’t *trust* them to keep their mouth shut.

Then there are those who I didn’t see a point in telling (the guy at the supermarket, for instance).

And last, but certainly not least, there are people who, for several personal, logical, completely legitimate reasons – we were not comfortable sharing the news with, and did not wish for them to find out until there was absolutely no way around it.

Yes, I know, some people take a picture of their positive test and send it to everyone connected to them on WhatsApp. Some people post ultrasound pictures on Facebook. I think these people are tactless, tasteless, dumb, and don’t understand that there exists such a thing as TMI.

But hey, each person can share their pregnancy news when they want, how they want, and with anyone they want, right?

Precisely.

So just like you turn a blind eye to those people posting 5 week ultrasound pics on Facebook, or posting pictures of pregnancy tests with “period due in two days and positive pregnancy test!!!!!” on WhatsApp – you can accept, and understand, that some people do the opposite, and that our choice is legitimate, too.

Because it is a legitimate choice. Even if you happen to not like it.

Sorry about that.

So no, sweetie who complained about how she found out I was pregnant with Tova. No, I will not share my news with you next time I am 6 weeks pregnant, and probably not when I come back from the first, or second, anatomy scan. I will tell you when I am ready to tell you. And if I decide I am not willing to tell you at all, I will let you find out through the grapevine.

Oh, and she who leaked my kid’s personal info on the internet? Well, I’m not interested in you finding out my next child’s exact birthdate or full name, unless I have, in writing, that you will not do such a thing again.

Sorry, not sorry.

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