Throwback

I wrote this a while back, when I had just found out I was pregnant for the third time (obviously I've written on here about how that ended up):

My husband and I are pretty typical 31 year olds- went to college, worked a bit, went to grad school (me) got married, went to grad school (him) and always thought that when we got more "settled" then it would be the perfect time to have a baby. Apparently life had slightly different plans for us.

I went off the pill in April 2013, after about 10 years of being on it pretty much continuously. It had always worked well for me. We decided we were ready to start "trying" and we were so excited to get pregnant quickly, in June. We were on top of the world in June; we had just bought our first house, my husband signed a contract for a good job once he graduated in December, and I was pregnant. We told close family members, but primarily waited until I went to the doctor at around 8 weeks and we could see a heartbeat to tell more friends and family. 

In august things changed quickly. When I went in for what was supposed to be my 12 week ultrasound there was no heartbeat. Almost immediately when the tech put the ultrasound want in and had trouble finding a fetus my heart dropped and the feeling was sickening. I was shocked; there had been no real signs or symptoms or anything being wrong. We were the unlucky 1%. (While overall miscarriage rates are listed at 20-30%, once a heartbeat is seen the rate is reported to drop to about 1%). I was shocked, called my husband to come drive me home, and went home and took a sleeping pill at 11am and crawled under the covers. I had left my doctors office telling her I would think about what I wanted to do, given the options of D & C, cytotec, or waiting for things to happen naturally. Needless to say, I did not sleep well and called at 6am to leave a message and tell them to get me scheduled for the D & C. It went fine; the next day I actually felt really good. But once all of the real feeling started to set in I couldn't help but feel crazy that it was all so much out of my control, and guilty at the same time as if it was me who had caused it to happen.

To make matters worse, our dog that we had had for 3 years, journey had run away 10 days earlier and was still missing. In fact, the reason I went alone to the doctor was that we had gotten a call that someone had spotted the dog. So. Every morning when I woke up, as soon as I was conscious, I would think "no dog. No baby". Needless to say, not a very happy way to start the day.

And yes, I want to take a minute to recognize my wallowing here, and that so many people are going through equally tough if not tougher things every day. The loss of a child, or parent, or spouse, terminal illness, infertility- all incredibly hard.

My husband and I knew that in the grand scheme of things it was ok- we were young, we had time. Although we did end up having some interesting conversations about our different takes on "ready for a baby". For me (the leaning towards type A personality) being ready meant that I was READY. I wanted a baby in 9 months. For him, being ready meant that if it happened sometime in the reasonable future his world would be good. Different expectations for sure.

So we waited the requisite month, were thankful that my period returned exactly a month after the procedure, and we were ready to try again, thinking that this time the coin toss would land on our side. I got pregnant quickly again, in November, finding out right before thanksgiving. I went to the doctor twice, at about 6 weeks and 9 weeks, both times things looking good (despite the near panic attacks I'd get driving to the doctors office). In late January I went in for the same, 12 week appointment, and this time we were going to try and find the heartbeat and just go from there. Well, you can guess the rest. No heartbeat on Doppler, go to ultrasound, no heartbeat there. D&C the following day.

I felt so betrayed by my body- how could I have no sign or feeling that something was so terribly wrong? Why was this happening to us? We wanted so much to be parents, we're ready to be good and loving parents, and yet it just wasn't happening. I couldn't help but think with bitterness about people who just get pregnant accidentally and it all goes well. I try to be a positive person, but it was incredibly hard to go to a gathering with friends (many of whom had 1 child already) and hear them talk about planning their vacation schedules around having a second, as if it's just that easy for everyone. And don't get me wrong- I am so happy for them and can see the joy that their kids bring. And I would not wish on them for anything what we've gone through. But. Hard to keep that perspective and cheerful attitude all the time. 

Side note- at least the second time we did have the dog- he was found by animal control in a fenced backyard 6 weeks after he went missing, severely underfed and missing a tooth and 2 nails but otherwise no worse for wear.

But the miscarriages certainly took a toll mentally, not to mention the physical aspects of going through about 6 months of pregnancy too. For someone who has always been a planner and felt pretty in control of life, this shook me up. I had no control, no way of knowing what was going to happen, and no real answers about why it happened.