Friday, October 14, 2016

F#31: Fertility

I was trying to figure out if, how, and when to write this post.  But since tomorrow is Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day, and October is dedicated to that, it seemed appropriate.

If my first pregnancy had gone to term, that baby would have been born in early to mid October 2015; he or she would be a year old now.  

But that didn't happen.  Instead, I had a miscarriage the same day we had the confirmation ultrasound.  Mere hours after we first saw that little jelly bean, something I had wanted my ENTIRE life, that little jelly bean was no more.  The doctor told us he couldn't explain it, and I knew that was true, especially at five weeks.

To say I was devastated would be an understatement.  I didn't tell anyone, other than my family, and the few friends who knew.  It happened Presidents' Day weekend, so I was "better" after a few days and went back to teaching right away.  

But I didn't forget.  Although we got pregnant a few months later, I was paranoid.  So afraid to go for the confirmation appointment and have something go wrong.  We got a surprise, though; I was almost out of my first trimester!  We had a little less to worry about.

October 2015 rolled around, and there was a little skip in my heartbeat when I realized my first baby would have been there.  It helped that we found out the gender of our second baby Columbus Day weekend, the little girl I had always dreamed of.

And then it was Presidents' Day Weekend in February.  I was thirty-six weeks pregnant and had a regular appointment.  But I knew what had happened the last time I was at the OBGYN that weekend, and I was afraid.  Afraid that, so close, something would be wrong.

Our daughter arrived the day after my husband's birthday, a week earlier than we had expected.  She is one of the five best things that have ever happened in my life, and I am so in love with every part of her, even the poop, and teething, and screaming.  But I don't know if there is a February or October that will ever pass that I won't think about that first pregnancy.

I know I have it luckier than many other women, women I know.  I only had one miscarriage, and my husband and I were only trying for about a year before we got one to "stick".  It could have been more losses, it could have been a longer period of time.  

But this is a club that a lot of women are in, a club that no one wants to be a member of.  And most don't talk about it, until it happens to someone they know.  It's kind of a weird thing to bring up in conversation, right?  "Oh, how have you been?" "Fine, I mean, you know, other than that miscarriage a month ago." 

Kind of a mood killer.

No one wants to normalize this, but knowing other people have gone through it helps a lot.  I had a support system, fortunately for me, unfortunately for the people who had walked this path before me.  So for those of you out there that this happened to, or might happen to, know that you are not alone, and that someone is here to talk.