The topic of miscarriage has been on my mind quite a bit lately. It’s amazing what a different perspective you can have on things when you’ve gone through them versus being outside and looking in. Infertility week was last week and although I missed posting this for it, it’s still a part of our life and one that maybe with a little insight we can all come together just a little bit more.
Sometimes I get a little nervous sharing the really personal things, mostly because the doubt that enters my mind tells me I shouldn’t. But after a few experiences I’ve had in the past couple of weeks, it’s about time I share.
I’ve mentioned before that we’ve had a rough go getting pregnant. I have always wanted to be a wife and mother and always thought that I would be much younger when both of them happened. When we got married, I was 25, which to a lot of you doesn’t sound too shocking. To put it into perspective a little more, I ran into a girl from high school at the grocery store and she had just had her 4th child! I was like, “What! That’s totally crazy!”
We waited a year before trying to have kids and I figured that my dream would come somewhat easily. I mean, I wanted to be a mom so why didn’t we deserve to have kids? A few months passed, then more, then more and finally my doctor sent me to a specialist, an infertility specialist. I don’t know about you but there is something scary in just the name that made me start thinking of a few stories I had heard of people struggling to get pregnant. We were now one of “those” couples, the ones that people feel sorry for but don’t totally understand.
I don’t get a period on my own very often so each month when I would take a pregnancy test, I knew that I was ten days from getting a period (with meds) and then the regular amount of time until the next one was “supposed” to come. Tears and prayers usually accompanied these moments. I would be kneeling next to the bed, making a little pool of wetness where my head rested and just plead that Heavenly Father would let us be parents.
A few more months passed and I started to prep myself for the tests, telling myself to not get too excited because I wasn’t going to be pregnant anyway. A few days after this, Cowboy told me I needed to take another pregnancy test. I argued with him again, not really saying that I didn’t think I could put up with rejection twice in one week. And to my surprise, I was pregnant with Little Roper!
Fast forward through the pregnancy and through the first year of his life (which were both pretty awesome, I’m not sure if it’s because I had to be patient for so long or not). I decided to go back to the specialist right off because this gal ain’t gettin’ any younger. A month later, I was pregnant. What a surprise! I was so excited and couldn’t wait to go through some of the same things that I had felt and experienced before.
I had finally grasped the idea that I was going to have another baby when things quickly changed. Without going into the details, I miscarried at 8 weeks. Now, all of you that have different views on when the baby is a life and all that, I don’t want to talk about that. I had already formed a small attachment and after the initial shock and fear, I began to feel sadness.
I guess you could say it was a type of mourning. And the hardest part about it: that there was hardly anything written anywhere about it. I’m sure there are plenty of medical documents talking about the specifics of a miscarriage but there weren’t any personal accounts to connect with. I told a few people that we had gone through this and was surprised at how many others had been through something similar. I’ve had 3 SILs miscarry and I never really understood what they went through but I now understood.
In talking to one of them, she said that the hardest part is all of the dates in your head. You know about the time you’re supposed to be due and so that can be hard even when you feel like you’ve moved on. For me, one of the thoughts was calculating how much longer I would have to wait for my next pregnancy and how far apart my kiddos would be.
It took some time but I started to feel like I was getting back to normal. I figured that since I had gotten pregnant so quickly after we started trying that for sure I would be pregnant the next time. And then I wasn’t. And the months have still crept by, and it’s hard sometimes. It’s hard to see all the women that are pregnant and to wonder when it will be our turn again. But there are some things you just have to be patient for and I believe that there is a whole plan for me, and that right now I can’t see past this point. Maybe there are some things I need to get done before, like lose some weight and maybe get just a little more organized.
I guess the hardest part is remembering to find joy in the journey. We encounter problems all the time but it’s our outlook on them that make our life different.
So if you’ve had a miscarriage or a still birth, there are others out there who know and understand what you’re going through. It doesn’t take away the pain completely but it does give you comfort that if you need to, there will always be someone that can offer a little advice and comfort when you’re struggling the most.
If you have gone through either of these, chances are that it’s not your fault. Maybe it wasn’t fertilized all the way or something was missing. Maybe there was an accident. Just keep moving forward and connect with others because they might have something to say that you can connect with, hold on to and pull yourself forward.
I know that all of us are at different stages in our lives, but what do you think of this?
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