I was going to write about my Black Friday adventures and gripe about anti-BF people and how they think it's okay to be obnoxious to those of us who hit the stores the day after Thanksgiving, but life intervenes and I need to air out another issue.
As of today, I've had my 3rd miscarriage. That's a personal rate of 60% and, honestly, with odds like that I should be hitting the local casino.
My first was before Avery, when my husband and I had first moved in together. I was on antibiotics and we were far too early on in the relationship to have a baby, so I suppose it was a blessing in disguise, but it was horrible. I was actually amazed at how hard I took it given that I didn't want to be pregnant.
The next time was when we were trying to conceive our 2nd. That took me a while to recover from, mainly because I wanted so badly to be pregnant.
Today, I got to call my doctor's office and report my 3rd "chemical pregnancy," which they really don't take very seriously. There are women out there with "real" fertility and pregnancy complications and, especially since my losses weren't consecutive, it pretty much gets pushed aside with a "try again next month" attitude. It really doesn't make it hurt any less. I don't think I've stopped crying since I realized what was going on.
Naturally, however illogical, I'm blaming myself. Did I drink too much caffeine? Did I eat something I shouldn't have? Once again, my crazy superstition about going to funerals while pregnant has been realized (all 3 losses were after attending a funeral...my great aunt died the day I ovulated; I know, it's dumb, but these things have a way of growing in a mind looking for ANY answer). Worst, is there simply something wrong with me; am I destined to repeat this every time we try to conceive? Hell, my husband's taken to joking about "getting through" another miscarriage before really getting pregnant again. I know it's a coping mechanism, but it makes me feel inept.
So, as I wait for the doctor's office to call back, presumably to tell me there's nothing to do but bleed and try again, I'm watching my two beautiful babies play with each other. I know I'm lucky and that I should be grateful for what I have. I know amazing women who have been through losses so much greater than mine, strong women who survived what I don't know if I could survive. But I simply feel empty and lonely and scared.
As of today, I've had my 3rd miscarriage. That's a personal rate of 60% and, honestly, with odds like that I should be hitting the local casino.
My first was before Avery, when my husband and I had first moved in together. I was on antibiotics and we were far too early on in the relationship to have a baby, so I suppose it was a blessing in disguise, but it was horrible. I was actually amazed at how hard I took it given that I didn't want to be pregnant.
The next time was when we were trying to conceive our 2nd. That took me a while to recover from, mainly because I wanted so badly to be pregnant.
Today, I got to call my doctor's office and report my 3rd "chemical pregnancy," which they really don't take very seriously. There are women out there with "real" fertility and pregnancy complications and, especially since my losses weren't consecutive, it pretty much gets pushed aside with a "try again next month" attitude. It really doesn't make it hurt any less. I don't think I've stopped crying since I realized what was going on.
Naturally, however illogical, I'm blaming myself. Did I drink too much caffeine? Did I eat something I shouldn't have? Once again, my crazy superstition about going to funerals while pregnant has been realized (all 3 losses were after attending a funeral...my great aunt died the day I ovulated; I know, it's dumb, but these things have a way of growing in a mind looking for ANY answer). Worst, is there simply something wrong with me; am I destined to repeat this every time we try to conceive? Hell, my husband's taken to joking about "getting through" another miscarriage before really getting pregnant again. I know it's a coping mechanism, but it makes me feel inept.
So, as I wait for the doctor's office to call back, presumably to tell me there's nothing to do but bleed and try again, I'm watching my two beautiful babies play with each other. I know I'm lucky and that I should be grateful for what I have. I know amazing women who have been through losses so much greater than mine, strong women who survived what I don't know if I could survive. But I simply feel empty and lonely and scared.
I would guess that some people are able to ignore the early loss more than others. And some probably get the support they're looking for from their mother or grandmother. But some don't even have a spouse to lean on. So you should use yours...even if he is incredibly stressed and tired and feeling bad as well. You just need to be aware that he may need to lean back. That co-leaning should create an equal and opposite reaction that keeps you on your feet.
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