Disclaimer: This topic is not what I’ve posted about in the past. However, I know writing is a form of release for me, and that others may be suffering from the same health issues and mental state. Perhaps my story may help someone else, or at least let you know that you are not alone on your journey. Please read at your own discretion if you have recently lost a pregnancy or are battling with infertility.
Infertility is not a topic I thought I’d ever share publicly. Partly due to the thought that infertility would not be an issue we’d encounter, and partly because I’ve been conditioned to hide such information away from the world. Infertility is not something others want to hear about. It’s sad. It’s messy. It’s too personal.
The world forgets to mention that infertility is a relatively common health issue though. 1 in 4 pregnancies end in miscarriage. Yes, you read that correctly — 1 in 4! A miscarriage is the abrupt, early end to a pregnancy, typically within the first 20 weeks. Sometimes women do not know they are pregnant when the loss occurs, but for those who do know, an estimated 15% of pregnancies end in miscarriage.
Recurrent pregnancy loss is three or more failed pregnancies. 1% of couples experience recurrent miscarriages, and Grant and I are part of that unlucky percentage.
We had our first miscarriage in January 2019. We had been told conceiving would be difficult for us, so my mind did not immediately jump to pregnancy when I began to face some obvious symptoms such as morning sickness and backaches. My typically predictive cycle was also late by almost two weeks. The day I was going to buy a pregnancy test was the day I began bleeding. I did not seek professional help (mostly because I did not realize the need) and I put it down as “just one of those things that happens.”
I fell pregnant a second time in the Fall of 2019, again losing the pregnancy early-on, and then a third time in early 2020. I attempted to shrug off the growing darkness with each passing. Grant and I had made statements during the beginning of our marriage that we were not sold on parenthood. Was parenthood for us? Was this a world we wanted to bring kids into? Were we ready at this stage in our marriage for little ones? It was not until I faced the prospect of never being able to have a child with my husband that I found my answer — I wanted to be a mom, and I was ready for motherhood.
My biggest fear was that my failure to carry the fetus past six weeks was my fault. After the first miscarriage, I had turned to one of the most important people in my life and the response was that the miscarriage was “most likely due to all the diets you did when you were younger.” That statement fed my own dark thoughts, so I kept my mouth shut when I faced each new loss.
As we all know, 2020 was a bleak time for everyone across the globe. The pandemic and isolation did nothing for my mental state. Fear of the unknown resulted in many days spent crying. I questioned if my body would ever be able to carry a child, and I wrestled with my thoughts every day. Is now a good time to be pregnant? No, there are too many questions as to where the world is heading right now. Is something wrong with me physically? Should I go to the doctor? No, doctors have enough going on right now and I need to wait my turn.
The back and forth of thoughts was enough to drive anyone crazy.
Our purchasing the Pillar House was a sanity-saver for awhile. My mind focused on getting our first house ready to sell, packing all our belongings, and beginning the hefty process of turning the new house into a home. However, all focus shifted back to the prospects of parenthood in August 2021.
While life was busy with new responsibilities from a promotion at work and continuing some big projects around the house, I noticed that my cycle was again late. Its predicted start was nearly a week past by late-August and there was something more — yep, definitely nausea. Nausea and back pain and dear Lord the mood swings. I felt as if I was on an emotional rollercoaster. I fought the urge to get my hopes up, but I kept count of each new day.
7 – 8 – 9 … 14!
As two weeks’ late rolled around, I looked at Grant and said, “I think we need a pregnancy test.” It was our first time needing to drive to the pharmacy for such a purchase.
I remember it was the Thursday before Labor Day weekend as I sat in the bathroom willing the test strip to show two lines. The seconds passed slowly and I stared at my feet as I said a silent prayer. My two minute timer chimed and I looked at the ceiling, “Amen.” Eyes slowly lowered to the test and… positive.
Unbelief. Ecstasy. Fear. Gratefulness.
The emotional rollercoaster was Top Thrill Dragster. Grant and I had taken a long weekend off from work to finish some projects around the house. Our plans changed that night though. The next day, Friday, we drove to Menards and began pricing materials for the upstairs bedroom that would become the nursery. I called my doctor with the news and scheduled an appointment for the upcoming Thursday. We even sat down with Amazon to start a preliminary registry. We knew we were getting ahead of ourselves, but WE WERE EXCITED! The weekend was full of baby talk as we threw around names, wondered who he or she would become, and laughed at what sort of parents we would be.
Grant’s parents came over for a cookout on Labor Day, and it was all we could do to keep the news to ourselves. We had both agreed to keep our mouths shut until our doctor appointment on Thursday, wanting to have confirmation from a professional.
Sometimes I think back on that day and wonder if I put too much pressure on the situation.
After lunch, Grant’s mom and I decided to pick apples at a local orchard. It was during the short drive that it happened. I felt it like a shock of electric. I told my mother-in-law that I suddenly wasn’t feeling well, so we chose apples already picked, grabbed some jars of honey, and returned home. I knew she could tell something had changed with my mood, but I bit my tongue and urged the car to carry me home quicker. Once in the driveway, I remember opening the car door and running to the bathroom. The remainder of the holiday is black.
Following our only positive pregnancy, my need to have a child became all-consuming. For those who have never experienced that feeling, when you are in that headspace, the need takes over everything. It was (is) all I think about. My dreams involve babies, and my nightmares too. Being a Type A personality does not help; I have this obsessive desire to overachieve. I don’t give up. So I went into overdrive trying to determine how to fix my circumstance.
I was not sure where to begin though.
After the interaction following my first miscarriage, there was a deep-set belief within me that perhaps I did not deserve to become a mother. Had I done something wrong or made a poor decision that now causes me to keep losing my pregnancies? The message I was left with was that I am a deeply flawed woman. I believed that message and placed all the blame on myself. However, unlike my previous miscarriages, I decided it was time to acknowledge my losses — and the resulting depression from those losses — and confide in those closest to me.
It was on their advice that I realized I needed to see an OB/GYN. This was a professional I had never visited prior to January 2022. However, I scheduled an appointment with a highly recommended women’s health doctor and met with her. I discussed our past pregnancies and our worries at the prospects for future children. I explained that we were unsure we were “getting pregnant right” — as naïve as that sounds. The doctor quieted that worry well, stating it was obvious we could get pregnant. The issue though, she suggested, is staying pregnant.
She then recommended fertility tests to see if the issue may be “a simple fix”. I had the first round of tests on April 13th and are waiting to complete bloodwork for the second round in a couple of days.
During the anticipation of waiting for the tests to occur, we experienced yet another miscarriage. Five losses within our four years of marriage. Though my heart breaks from this loss, this time feels different to me. This latest loss has me more amped to find answers and begin working towards a solution. I am ready to break through the mental fog and stop placing the blame on myself. Instead, I am eagerly looking forward to finishing these hormonal tests and meeting with the doctor on her findings. I am ready for some answers and to know in what direction we should begin to focus.
Though the future is still uncertain, it is good to know we are taking steps forward rather than wading in the pool of the past.
So now we wait.
And pray.
If you are dealing with the same journey as me towards parenthood, I am sorry. I hope you know that it is important to not blame yourself and not to give up hope. Talk about your feelings and emotions with your partner and try to contact others who have experienced what you are going through. You are never alone.
And, on another note, remember that Weight Watchers and Whole30 do not impact your fertility…
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