When I was pregnant with my first child, I kept it a secret from everyone at work for the first three months. That was logistically simple — I was working in the Houston bureau of The Times at the time, and my editors and colleagues were almost all in New York. But it was physically and emotionally exhausting. I was spending as much energy pretending I wasn’t pregnant as I was actually being pregnant, which adds up to an awful lot of energy.
I didn’t tell for many reasons — because I feared the jinx factor, and because I was still absorbing the news myself. I also didn’t want to have to deliver sad news if the pregnancy ran into complications in the early months. The second time around, though, I told everyone early, because I was more confident and really, really tired of acting like I wasn’t nauseous all the time.
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