I couldn’t sleep last night. I had an exhausting day, but as I lay in bed I could not turn my thoughts off which is never a good thing when you are tired. So I started pitying myself. I thought about all I’ve gone through lately and how unfair everything was. Most days I accept my miscarriage with grace, last night was not graceful in the least. Instead I cried silent tears while my husband snored softly next to me feeling sorry for myself.
The road of infertility is a rough one. It is filled with pot holes, speed bumps, and wrong way signs. We’ve all experienced these things in one way or another but the thing I will never get over or accept is the losses. I’ve been thinking a lot lately about the link between infertility and pregnancy loss. To me at least, it seems the odds are not in our favor when it comes to this.
Think about it, how many fellow inferiles do you know that have experienced at least one loss? For me, this is most of them. Very few get their happy ending without going through this particular cliff dive (if you are one of them, please don’t take offense, this observation is not meant to make anyone feel bad). On the other hand, how many fertile people do you know that have never experienced a loss? I can think of dozens off the top of my head. Maybe this is me and my little world, but it seems to be vastly unfair.
The past week has brought more heartache for some incredible women on my blog roll. It makes me sick to my stomach every time I read about another crushed dream. I can’t help but feel like we can’t seem to catch a break. Truth is I would never wish this feeling on anybody. No woman should ever have cry herself to sleep thinking about babies that might never come to be or worry herself sick that one of her younger siblings will manage a child before her. No woman should have to hear that her pregnancy, one that she prayed, hoped, and worked for years, is not viable or over.
So why does it keep happening to us?
Maybe part of it lies in the fact that we are much more in tune with our bodies than most woman. We meticulously analyze every cycle and feeling till we are blue in the face and our google feels used and abused. In my case I started bleeding at 5 1/2 weeks, most woman would probably just have thought their period was late. I have a friend who was off birth control for a year. They weren’t trying, they tried to just avoid sex around ovulation, who conceived the first month they decided to try. When I told her of my miscarriage she actually confessed to me that she thinks she’s had a few…she just never got them confirmed. During the time they were not trying there were a couple of months that she was late, so she took a pregnancy test got a faint positive, then negatives within a few days. It seems to me that she might not have had miscarriages but chemicals. But there are still so many cases of blighted ovums and missed miscarriages that couldn’t be mistaken for a late period that continue to ravage our community that don’t seem as prominent in the “real world”.
Or maybe its just that people refuse to talk about it. It’s a dirty little secret that we sweep under our beds and hide away. I’m not accusing…I’m just as guilty. I refused to tell certain people about my miscarriage, but why? Maybe I feel like less of a woman because I was not able to do the one thing that my body was made to do. Maybe I’m ashamed because I feel like no one else I know has gone through the same thing. Maybe I’m just scared that it will draw attention to the fact I’m hurting.
This is not something I signed up for. I’ve had suspicions since I was a teenager that I would not achieve pregnancy easily. But I never imagined finally getting pregnant only to have it end a week and a half later. None of the women in my family have ever had a miscarriage. Seriously. All my grandmothers, aunts, my mom, none of them. I’m the first. This is not a road I am ready to pave. I have undying respect for those of you who are going through RPL. I honestly do not know how you do it, you amaze me.
Each day that passes I get more and more terrified. Terrified that this year will end the same as last year, with no baby and no pregnancy. This may seem like an overreaction because there are still 7 months and 7 chances. But considering how the last 17 months have gone it does not instill a lot of confidence in my head.
My heart is aching right now. Aching for me and for anyone who has ever had to say goodbye to a desperately wanted pregnancy. Whether it is recent or in the past…I’m sorry. Sorry if you have ever felt like you are the one being singled out for this incredibly hard journey, sorry that you have had to gone through all the emotional and physical pain, sorry that there is nothing I can really say to make it better.
I hope it gets easier for us all. I hope time heals all wounds and grants us clarity to accept what can not be change. I hope we all get what I desperately believe we all deserve.