I have five children: one who lives on Earth and four who never made it.
This blog post is part of a continuum. It's certainly been hard to talk about, but definitely harder not to. The most interesting thing I have found is how many woman are in "the club." No one wants to be in it, but I am very thankful to learn of their story when they are. Many women have trouble just GETTING pregnant. I don't have this problem but I cannot hold onto my babies for long. Four pregnancies within a one year period, waiting to become pregnant for the recommended three month duration with two of them.
My first pregnancy was perfect, easy, a blessing. No morning sickness, no bathroom in the middle of the night, I instinctively knew when I was in labor, born ON her due date. She's a strong, willful, wonderful child. We were not trying for her but she is the best thing that ever happened to me. She teaches me more about life than I ever didn't realize I didn't know (how's that for double negatives).
Fast forward almost six years since my daughter came into my life:
My first miscarriage happened when I was on my honeymoon in Hawaii. Andy and I had just gotten married a month and a half before, taking our honeymoon apart from the wedding, as it was a destination wedding and wanted to be fair to my work in not being away for too long. I was six to seven weeks along and about to leave on a flight out the following day when I noticed spotting.
"It's common," they told me "don't worry about it."
That was the start of my honeymoon, trying not to worry about something I knew from woman's intuition was definitely wrong. Of course, being surrounded by shark-infested water for some serious romantic-laden time while not being able to relax and enjoy was a battle in and of itself. In a mentally-incapacitated jail, having a husband who tried to help but didn't know how to best, with all the pressure of having a great time was a complete ironic honeymoon. This was when we were to TRY to have a baby, not lose one.
Thankfully, a friend of mine lived on Maui and was able to help the emotional wreck I was becoming. She didn't understand how I was so calm about it - looking back my inward appearance was polar opposite of my outer. She was a bit of stability in my shaken-up world.
This was my first miscarriage. Looking back, I thought it would be my last and a freak accident. Consulting the doctor upon my return, he made mention that this does happen more often than most realize and that I should focus on the future. But I felt as though I failed. I failed my child with something that I had unknowingly done. I hadn't, but as any mother that loses a child, we will always wonder what we could have done ... better.
I deeply believe that one was a boy.
Didn't take me long to get pregnant again. Lost in September, pregnant again in November. Driving back from seeing my family on the East Coast and cautiously announcing I was expecting since I was there, I notice a familiar sign. Two days of driving later, I make it into the doctor's office to see this baby's heartbeat still going strong. I am six to seven weeks again. One day later, with no doubt, we can't save this one either.
I have no doubt she was a girl.
My regular OB/GYN now is on alert (finally) and prescribes progesterone when I learn of my next pregnancy. I am to start the minute I find out I am pregnant. Third time's a charm, I know this one will be THE one. So one and a half months later, guess who is pregnant?
I wait ... and worry ... and wait some more. Not telling anyone about being pregnant in case. I wait until I am 12 weeks pregnant. Then Andy and I wait longer.
The 12-week check-up the heartbeat is strong and Maternit21 blood work to find out the health of the baby along with (why not?) the sex of the child. Everything looks great! Only two weeks later, we learn that she is a healthy baby girl. Hooray!
We announce our huge news to our five year old. "You're going to be a big sister!" She is thrilled, telling all her teachers and every passer-by. This is what she has wished for birthdays, Christmas, in prayers.
A few days later and now 15-weeks along ... something is wrong. I feel it. Calling my nurse's personal cell phone, I am instructed me to head to the hospital immediately. After much quiet-running around and leaving the room returning with a new nurse, they cannot find a heart beat. Five-year old next to me and fully aware, we learn of the news together... She is the one that comforts me, rather than the other way around.
My OB/GYN decided on a fetal maternal medicine specialist for me and I booked the earliest appointment as it's only a matter of (short) time before we are pregnant again. The doctor is insistent that we wait for another three months before trying again. Three months might not seem like much to a twenty-something year old, but I'm hardly that. Against everything I didn't want to do, we waited.
Three months later, with the specialist on my side and progesterone prescription filled and ready, we try again. As you would guess it, getting pregnant is not a problem, staying is.
When we found out I was pregnant, I did everything I needed to: no more caffeine, immediately took progesterone, scheduled an appointment with my doctor, had blood drawn. Even with all the precautions I was taking along with the eagle eye on spotting to put myself on bed rest immediately, nothing could save this last one. The following day was a full-blown loss. I had thought I was seeing things when first noticed the first day of spotting. Had to use tissue paper to know if I was seeing things. Still couldn't believe it.
What is really hurting me is the fact that I couldn't even go into this specialists office to get a chance to see if everything was okay. We lost this baby with EVERYTHING we did for precaution.
Tired of hearing "it's just not meant to be" or "you're just in the 20 percentile that loses" is completely asinine to me. The common denominator is ME, my body. Nothing LOOKED wrong with Lily when I gave birth to her and saw her tiny nose, fingers, toes. There can't be something wrong with four babies in a row - there can only be something wrong with MY BODY! I don't want to hear the excuses from the medical world and I had no fear in noting this to the specialist when I reamed him out in advance of him just about saying it. Proactive, not reactive is my ideal at this point. Time to really figure this out. I don't want to hear "I don't know what's wrong with you, you're in great health" rather "Let's do everything we can do." Difference? Proactive statement.
I am now in the process of looking to supplement my specialist with holistic review. I have contacted a chiropractor who is known for assisting with my exact problem. My appointment yesterday was what I had felt all along - there is something wrong with my hormones, my body. I need to fix me before trying again.
Next steps will take a while to work themselves out. Tests need to be run, diets need to change, internal body health needs recovery from a holistic point of view. But what my intuition tells me is, something is righting itself if I just listen to what I believe I need. It's not just time.
A huge feeling of hope has overcome me.
