Visit to the Fertility Clinic and A New Plan!

This trip to the fertility clinic came a little earlier than we had planned, but as I wrote around mother's day, I felt strongly that it was time to look into testing, because sometimes testing itself can take months and months.  We don't feel ready to try pregnancy again quite yet, but we are ready to find some answers for the future.

I'm so glad I listened to this feeling, because as soon as we were talking with our doctor (who is amazing, brilliant, has probably a dozen degrees, and is a recipient of the "Most Compassionate Doctor" award) I felt like I was in the exact right place at the right time, doing what I should be doing.  It was a great comfort to me.

To start out with, after we had discussed my very LONG and detailed history, I was thrilled to hear him say basically "They've been focusing way too much on blood clotting factors, it might not have anything to do with that."  THANK YOU.  I have never actually had a blood clot, and with all the anti-clotting therapies I've done, I was feeling really discouraged and thinking there must be more to the puzzle.  He said they haven't even done the "normal tests" to determine what caused the miscarriage.  Granted, because of the blood clotting disorder he does want me to begin on a baby aspirin when we start trying to conceive as a precaution. Which is what I did with Jack and what I feel like is safest for me and a growing baby.  But I don't think it's going to fix any problems.

He said although it's possible that thrombophilia may cause problems with miscarriages, and he can't rule it out for me, he believes MOST of the time, Leiden Factor V does not affect the outcome of a pregnancy.  (Once again, thank you!  I think 11% of the population has this factor and many don't ever know they have it).  This is a very conterversial topic in the medical field, but when it comes down to it, I don't know what else we can possibly do with this issue.  I've done any treatment that would be used if this was the actual issue.  He said about the same thing for the low Protein C and S (although he wants to repeat that bloodwork and see if any activity has changed since my last two tests).

This brings us to the second blood issue, MTHFR (once again, this is not a naughty abbreviation but an actual diagnosis).  I told him "Well they ruled that out as causation because there were no clots and my homocystiene was not elevated when I lost the pregnancy"  He kind of shook his head and said while that might make sense from a hematologist's point of view, the problem with MTHFR is broader than that.  In a nutshell, this disorder is like an enzyme deficiency.  So when I take folic acid, my body can't really convert it into a usable form (which he called metafolin).

My other doctors compensated for this difference by having me take a ton of folic acid, but if I still couldn't convert it into a useable form, what was the point?  Everyone knows how important folic acid is for the start of pregnancy- without it the baby can have severe neural tube defects that can end the pregnancy very early.  My eyes widened as he was explaining this- could it really be that simple?  And then the real kicker- he told me that there is a prescription prenatal that contained 1 mg of Metfolin.  Meaning instead of taking crazy amounts of folic acid and trying to convert it, I can actually just take the active form.  HELLO?!  DID NO ONE ELSE IN THE MEDICAL FIELD KNOW ABOUT THIS?!  Did you know you can BUY METAFOLIN ON AMAZON?!  I feel somewhat annoyed that I didn't understand this concept (since I work in the vitamin field) and also that no one else explained this to me!  So he wrote me a prescription and told me to start on this prenatal right away, he wants me on it for several months (and even through my entire reproductive life).

Also, after reviewing my history, he has decided that I should continue with Progesterone supplementation in future pregnancies, but he will be prescribing double the amount that I used with my last pregnancy (thank you that's what I wanted before!).  My progesterone levels from previous reads during pregnancy were lower than he was comfortable with.  Thankfully, it looks like I will be allowed to use vaginal suppositories/pills instead of injections!  Yay!!

As far as my thyroid, it is being managed well for the most part, so I just have to stay on my daily medication.

So now we move on to all the other testing that they want to do to find problems and causes.
Unfortunately, before they can do any more testing, I have to have the Implanon removed from my arm (ACKKKK).  I expected as much because that form of birth control messes with all your hormones, etc.  I am dreading getting it out because it was so awful getting it in...but I knew it was going to have to come out at some point.  I need to have it removed, and then will have to wait at least 2 months (2 regular cycles) and then they can start the other testing.  I am looking forward to having the Implanon out though, it hasn't been the easiest on my body.  I have really felt the hormones affecting me.  I've gained weight on it and have felt more run down (and have had horrible unpredictable bleeding).  All of those things should get better once it's out.  I would love to lose some weight!  It does make me nervous to go off of hormonal birth control (just call me fertile myrtle) but I'm sure everything will be ok.

One of the first things he wants to look at is my egg quality.  Normally having poor egg quality is a problem with older women, but you never know, so we need to check it.  The same goes on Kevin's side, so the doctor wants to do a semen analysis to make sure there aren't sperm that have "bad DNA." Motility and those other kinds of problems with sperm aren't on our list because we don't struggle to conceive, just the DNA side of it.  Hopefully we can hold off on this test because it is more expensive, and there isn't too much you can do about it.  This test is further down on the list to be done if they rule everything else out.  If this turns out to be an issue, there are two options.  The first is using a sperm donor (we're not interested in that option) or you can just try to improve the overall health of the sperm hoping that they will provide good DNA packages.  So the Dr is putting Kevin on a special vitamin/amino acid supplement starting now, to basically make sure the sperm is as healthy as possible.  He needs to be on it for several months also.

Probably one of the first tests we'll do after the two month wait period is to rule out any problems with the anatomy of the uterus using a saline ultrasound, which they will use to evaluate the cavity and such.  This makes so much sense to me and I've wanted to do something like it for a while.  They will check for fibroids or any type of damage.  I always wondered about this because my first baby was over 9 pounds and the birth was really hard on me, and then I've lost all babies since then, could there be some type of internal trauma or damage?  I'm excited to get the results back from this test, because either way it will put lots of my questions to rest.  Not as excited to have the procedure done however...it's one of those they tell you is just "uncomfortable" but then offer you Valium if you want it.  Riiiight.

Then, of course, lots of blood work is required.  They want to redo some of my large blood panels to check them against previous results (like my antiphosphilipid one, protein c and s, etc).  They also want to do blood work to check certain hormones like Prolactin at certain points in my cycle. And they will check my blood for immunity to diseases I've had immunizations against.  If immunity doesn't seem strong, they may re-vaccinate me (unlikely, I've had all my shots and boosters).

The Dr mentioned that because none of my doctors did an ultrasound during the last four pregnancies, he can't confirm that they were actually in the uterus, and could have in fact been ectopic pregnancies that ended on their own.  That is scary to think about.  If that was the case, I'm thankful that I never had any rupture!  He explained to me that because of my history with recurrent miscarriage that my risk for ectopic pregnancy is much greater and I always need to be aware of that possibility.  Once I become pregnant, the clinic will do a transvaginal ultrasound at 5 weeks and 2 days, because at that point they can see a sac and confirm that the pregnancy is in the uterus where it should be.

Testing that makes sense for us to have (but I'm hoping we won't end up doing) is the karotyping.  It's not genetic screening in this case (we're not looking for genetic diseases) but rather it checks to see if Kevin or I have what's called "Chromosomal Balanced Translocation."  In a nutshell this means that we turned out ok, but part of our chromosomes are off (but somehow balanced each other out to make it act normal so we turned out normal).  This is fine for the person with the balanced chromosomes, but it becomes tricky when the chromosomes try to mix and it can create problems.  Once in a while, it can somehow work though, which would explain Jack being perfectly healthy.  I would love to do these tests just to know, but we are going to wait on them unless we aren't getting answers from the other tests, because it's about $500 a person at the cash cost.  And who knows about insurance helping at all these days...  So the karotyping will probably have to wait a while (if it's necessary at all).

A test (that I have to do for sure) is freaking me out just a little bit- A CLOMID TEST. ahhhh!  Run for your lives!  My cousin is pregnant with triplets right now from this miracle-making medication...so I'm just a little anxious about the idea of needing to take a high dose for 5 days straight.  This is not to help me conceive, it's so they can see how my body responds to ovulation and makes sure that everything responds properly to make a nurturing environment.  But just knowing how easily I get pregnant, I told Kevin he has to live in a different house while I'm taking Clomid.  I'm pretty sure if we shake hands while I'm on Clomid I will have quintuplets.  

I am a little concerned about the scheduling of all these tests, since they have to be at an exact time on my cycle (so can only be scheduled a day or two in advance) and the clinic is 45 minutes from my house.  Also, I can't take Jack to these appointments for obvious reasons.  Also, Kevin is in full time doctoral school and I work from afternoon to night.  So I am wondering even logistically how we are going to make this happen... but I'm praying something will somehow work out.

We walked out of the clinic seeing dollar signs...that part is a little crazy.  The good news is we have a few months before we can start testing, and our loans finally came in to help with the normal bills, so with me working some extra hours we should be able to save up for at least a couple tests at a time.  If it's God's will for us to take this journey, it will work out somehow.

Occasionally my hope turns to sudden fear and I think, "What if it really is my blood and they really can't do anything for it?"  But we just have to take this one day at a time and have faith.  Fear like that doesn't help anything.

I felt so overwhelmed walking into the clinic and seeing pictures of all these miracle babies on the wall.  I know it's possible for us, even though it might be a lot of work, money, time, patience, stress, and "uncomfortable procedures" (just say painful already).  The doctor was very happy to see we have a son and it gave him confidence that it's possible again.  Sometimes I feel a little mad at the world that we have to go through this process and I wonder why it can't just be simple.  But I try to get rid of that attitude pretty fast.  It is what it is and I'm just thankful there is so much help and hope available.  Kevin told me he can't wait to hold another newborn of his own and tell them "You were hard, you caused a lot of problems." haha- wouldn't that be the most wonderful thing in the world? I'm sure he wouldn't even be able to fake scold them because he wouldn't be able to wipe the smile off his face.  

We are dreaming of you baby.  We hope this leads us to you. <3

What To Expect When You're Expecting

What a crazy and wonderful two weeks it has been.  We moved into our new apartment (which we love), and got a huge surprise three days after we moved in- Kevin got a phone call that told him that he had been accepted to the Doctoral Program for Physical Therapy, at the school we just moved 4 minutes away from.  We were floored.  The rest of the class had been accepted in February and tuition was already past due.  Someone had paid the deposit and then dropped out- and Kevin was the very next name on the list.  It was nothing short of a miracle!  Obviously we have been scattered and trying to quickly figure out how we are going to deal with finances- but things have started to work themselves out.  Hopefully our loans will come in quickly (since they take a month to process) and I have been looking for part time work.  I had a good interview yesterday, so I’m hoping that I will be able to start a job within the next week or so.  We have unpacked our house, and though it’s not totally clean yet, it’s comfortable and peaceful and I feel very happy to be in our new place.  Kevin is starting his Doctorate program tomorrow- dreams are coming true.  I really expected that as we settled into our new life, my baby aching would settle too, and I would be distracted with everything else and be consumed with all new things.  That’s not quite how it has worked out.  Maybe it’s because we’re back in our own place; maybe it’s mother’s day, but the aching has been difficult since we moved and that hole I feel in my heart has seemed to be getting bigger.

As usual, I’ve found myself diving into the world of self-improvement to fill the void and make me feel like I’m doing something worthwhile with my time.  Time that would otherwise be spent just at home, which sometimes eats away at me and makes it easier for me to slip into depression.  I’ve tried harder to keep up with the housework.  I’ve rededicated myself to school and figuring out how on Earth I’m going to finish this program (which is way more difficult to do with a child than I anticipated.)  I’m starting piano lessons this week to improve my abilities in that area of music. I’m starting a part time job (if everything works out) with more hours than I’ve had since Jack was born- so I’ll be a first time working mother.  Kevin will be in an intense school program during the day, which I’m sure will be a great experience, but a new stress for both of us.  Also, I just joined the rec center and have set a goal to work out in some form at least 4 times a week.  Basically, I am keeping myself busy with good things.   

I’m not sure what started the hurt again- it is more pronounced in my life than it was a month ago.  Maybe it’s because I got really upset a few weeks ago because I had encountered several things consecutively that made me feel that the sanctity of life is just not respected in this country.  I feel like there is not enough respect for those babies who lost their lives because of purposeful procedures initiated by their mothers- a concept I seriously can’t even stomach.  I would bury every one of those babies with respect and dignity instead of their resting place being in a “toxic waste” bag to be burned with the rest of the “medical waste and tissue.” I've become much more sensitive to the issue of abortion through my experiences.  I don't think that being upset about it brought the pain on, but I think it amplifies it.

The hurt that I’m describing has been changing, not to be less painful, but just morphing back into readiness to try again.  I have felt this "switch" happen before, where all the sudden my grief feels less present than my hope and I feel ready to be pregnant again.  It turns from "waiting for the right time" to "nothing is going to happen if I don't try and fix the problem somehow."  It really makes no sense timing-wise right now to look back into this.  Money is the first issue- we are now going to be living on loans and a part time job.  I'll be doing everything I mentioned before (along with the normal mom/running the household stuff) all while Kevin is doing his doctorate.  It is literally insane.  But so was having Jack half way through college- and he came at the perfect time and everything worked out.  I've always been one of the attitude "If you want something, make it happen." and I'm not necessarily patient about it either... so what happens when you don't have the power to make something happen?  It makes you dependent on God for one thing, but it also drives me to want to at least be working on my goal in someway, or else how will it ever happen?  

This week has been so heavy with the baby ache that I've decided to make somewhat of a compromise. We decided to wait a year before we tried again- and I'm six months in.  I'm impressed I made it this long without the ache and impatience feeling overwhelming.  So I thought "Maybe I can do consultations, appointments, tests for six months or occasionally until next year."  I think what it comes down to is that I'm not in control and it breaks my heart- so I have to feel like I'm taking charge of something.  If I do tests and research (if those things count for anything, or make a difference at all) at least I'm showing God that I'm trying everything I know how to do on my end.  I know I’m not ready to be pregnant again, but if I’m feeling this ache again, perhaps I can start seeing doctors.  That’s a start.  I'll be doing something more than just sitting by and crying and wishing and aching for my lost babies. 

Maybe it's being in our own place, maybe it's mothers day, I'm not sure what is motivating this sudden pain and urgency to get back in the game.  I try to be very prayerful.  If I know something is a prompting from God and not my own impatience, then I know things will work out the way they are supposed to.  If I need to do tests for 6 months, so be it.  At least I'm working towards our goal.  I just don't feel like I can sit around for another 6 months only waiting in this pain.  I just feel that someone is missing from our family.  Jack keeps talking about turning 3, which is still 4 months away, but it's something I really can't seem to comprehend either.  Children really only keep getting bigger don't they?  At least I know I will appreciate it more if we are ever blessed with another.  My prayers have changed and I am learning to accept God's will and trusting that it really is best in the end.  If I realize all that I'm feeling is impatience, I will change my plans.  I have been praying to find a job that will make enough that we can afford to maybe look into a fertility clinic.  We will see what God's will is.  When I look into fertility clinics, I feel discouraged all over again.  Because I see the tests they offer, and common reasons for pregnancy loss, and it looks like everything else we've tried.  What more can they do for us? But I wrote a message to a fertility clinic near us anyway, just to see what they had to say on the matter.  If it's only 50 dollars to go in for a consultation and talk about what they could do for us or ideas they have that we haven't tried- totally worth it.

I would say that "some days are easier than others" but it is more accurate to say "some days are less crazy super hard than others."  As I was unpacking I pulled out my book "What to Expect When You’re Expecting" and almost burst into tears right there- I don't expect a live baby anymore.  What to expect when you're expecting--for me it's a loss.  I expect a miscarriage. I find it hard to be realistic and not get my hopes "too high" if that's possible, but also have faith that I will have another living child.  The idea of a positive pregnancy test just starts my mind on the course of "this child will die before they are born, probably within the first two months, and I will never meet them."  Yet somehow, my heart aches to try again.  This is why I got the implant in my arm- so I couldn't have a hard week and change my mind so suddenly to be ready to go through it again.  But the idea of trying pregnancy again has been on my mind constantly even though it makes no logical sense with what is going on in our life right now.  That's why I think a new doctor might be a good start; the waiting can sometimes get pretty tough.  This always seems to happen right as I've settled into the life of being a mother with one child and actually feeling happy.  Something triggers it and once again I get desperately sad and lonely for another baby and feel somewhat disgusted in myself to watch so many women around me do something that I can't do- even though I have tried four times to have a second child.  I can't understand why this won't work for me. 

A study done in 2002 by researchers JB Ritsher and R. Neugebauer “evaluated the Perinatal Bereavement Grief Scale (PBGS)—the first scale designed to measure grief following reproductive loss in terms of yearning for the lost pregnancy and lost baby.” The study compared “measures of attachment and investment in the child and divergent validity against measures of social desirability and depressive symptoms.” Not that we should need a study to evaluate the true grief many feel after a miscarriage, but it does help to show that the feelings that are present afterwards certainly prove that a miscarriage was a “real baby,” worthy of a grieving process.

Some days you just have to have it out all day and cry and think, so that you can go back to normal life the next day.  I worry sometimes that I'm fooling myself- that these losses were a start of a pregnancy that didn't take, more so than a "loss of life" and that concept terrifies me because I have felt so much grief and mourning.  I told Kevin "I can't think of it as something other than life, because I remember when we were at that stage with Jack, and I loved him then like I love him now, and he is very much alive, so how can it not be a loss when they don't make it to birth?"  He just replied simply "It is life."  Maybe it would seem more real if we had ultrasound pictures from 8 weeks or something like that, but does it even make a difference?  Death perhaps is more difficult to understand when it happens so early.  How do your mourn someone you never met but loved so much?  My heart hurts for them the same.  To be pregnant and then to suddenly not be, that is a loss.  And I suppose in the end, the exact science doesn't matter as much as the big picture, and the emotions we go through, and the children we yearn for to join us.  To have a positive test turn negative, that is a loss and it's just the adversary whispering "You're fooling yourself, mourning nothing, there was no baby, and there is no hope for the future."  

Something that I have been, I won't say "angry" but, "upset" about is the loss of excitement surrounding pregnancy.  Before I was pregnant with Jack, or after he was born but before we experienced any losses, pregnancy was the most exciting happy thing in the world to me- for a friend, family member, acquaintance, didn't matter.  I felt like throwing them a party. Ultrasounds, seeing a new baby blessed, meeting a friend's newborn, were all thrilling and joyful experiences.  Now, no matter how positive my attitude, or how strong my self-control, all these things are accompanied with sadness and loneliness and painful memories.  Why are all these things tarnished for me, and how do I get that joy back?  I know that we all have painful areas in our lives and different things will trigger that pain.  I just wish it was something less thrilling (and less frequent to be honest...I don't like to be brave about it so often).  I know that no pregnancy is "care-free" but I think for the most part, moms expect their babies to live and be born when they see that positive test.  For me, that now brings stress, and what feels like unrealistic hope at the same time.  After a loss, I scold myself for ever thinking things could change.  What did I think was going to happen?  Why did I do this to myself?  I can't imagine ever having a pregnancy where I don't feel nearly consumed with worry that everything is ok and somehow working. I imagine that even in a successful pregnancy I will have to choke down fear until the very delivery day.  But then again, it never stops does it? Moms worry about their children and their wellbeing their whole lives- it doesn't end with birth!  So I will learn to be brave and let go the things out of my control and try to be happy and focus.  I wish just one time though, I could look at a friend's ultrasound and feel that joy and excitement without the side of painful memories and grief.  I feel like I've lost a great treasure because of these mixed emotions.  I tell myself perhaps if we have another miracle baby someday- at that point I will know it's possible and I won't feel the same amount of sorrow or grief.  Maybe it will shrink with time and miracles, and that joy will return as I accept my plan in life.  Maybe.  

I remember the joy with my second pregnancy.  I was smiling everywhere I went for those few weeks.  I wrapped up the beautiful white dress I wore for my own baby blessing and gave it to Kevin to announce to him that we were expecting.  I had a whole list planned out for how I wanted to do things with the second baby.  We were touring hospitals when I was just short of six weeks, beaming the whole time.  The excitement was so different than with my first because I knew what being a mother meant.  I had my hand on my belly constantly.  When I lost that baby, I felt like the whole world buckled and fell down on top of me.  

We were actually watching "What to Expect When You're Expecting" a movie which I loved, and in the part of the movie where the girl finds out she's lost the baby I started to cry thinking how awful it would be.  When the movie was over, Kevin and I were sitting on the couch and I remember telling him "Can you imagine how horrible it would be to wake up in the night and find you're bleeding like that poor girl?  I feel so bad for people who that happens to."  I remember rubbing my belly and standing up to go use the bathroom as Kevin was still sitting on the couch.  I went into the bathroom, and found I was bleeding.  The irony alone almost killed me.  For that first night I tried to tell myself I was just freaked out because of the movie (we had called the doctor and he assured us it was fine).  But by the time the cramping started I knew.   I struggled so much to process how this could happen, and that inexplicable joy that I had been feeling was gone, along with a bit of my ignorance.  I was just a little less naive.  When I lost my third pregnancy- my shock and horror that I felt lasted even longer.  It was like I was living a nightmare.  How could this happen twice in a row?  I had finally started to heal from the first loss, how could God take this baby from me too?  This was no longer a "fluke."  This was a problem.  Then with the fourth pregnancy, and the fifth...each time I became more hardened, less hopeful, less naive to the possibilities.  I lost that glow and joy I felt with my second pregnancy.  Now it's just what I expect.  What I expect when I'm expecting.  Yet in the back corner of my mind, I know that our next baby has a 70% chance of surviving and being born healthy and alive with no medical intervention at all.  And perhaps that's why every 6 months or so I feel ready to give it a chance.  But in the end it's not about the statistics, it's about God's will.  I hope that the spirit will somehow help me to feel that maternal joy again and take all the dark and depressing feelings away.

It's true that things are in fact, less complicated and easier with one child.  I just wish I could settle into that life and appreciate it without having so much pain because of the lack of more children.  It seems ungrateful.  But at the same time, I feel that having children is one of the most important things God gave me time for, and so it is difficult to tell myself I shouldn't have these feelings and be glad I can do other things instead- because it is still just second best.  But if it's what God wants me to do right now- I try my best to be thankful and appreciate everything that comes in life with having an only child.  I really do celebrate my wonderful child.

 

Saturday night I told myself “I have to be brave enough to go to church tomorrow.”    Because I am a mother and I do have a child who is alive and healthy and incredible.  I need to focus mother's day on that, instead of this deep sadness that seems to spill over on certain days.  For some reason it’s hard to go to church and listen to all the wonderful things about babies and mothers.  I keep telling myself to adjust my attitude and to stop ruining wonderful things- like mother's day and how I could use it to be a celebration of my wonderful gift- my son Jack.  But instead, somehow in the frustration of not finding the shirt that matched the skirt I was already wearing for church- I collapse in my closet crying and I am forced to admit it's not actually about the shirt.  Mother's day is hard.  I really looked forward to church today- I knew that there would be uplifting messages for me and comfort- even if there were some painful moments.  But after not being able to get dressed or put my make up on without several little breakdowns, Kevin suggested that we just stay home today.  It makes me feel a little more like a failure, but I guess at some point you have to admit you're only human.  I lit four little candles to burn in the kitchen for a little while for my heart's sake.  I went into the office and picked up the guitar I've had since my 16th birthday and pretended I understood how to figure out chords for a little while.  Then I fumbled through some hymns on the piano for a little while.  I miss music in my life, and all the ensembles I got to participate in through college.  I’m glad I start lessons again this week.  It will be healing for me.   

As every mother does, I have definitely had some experiences I never anticipated and that I felt were too much for me to handle- but as mothers, we rise to the trials that God gives us and we keep going.  The love for our children is stronger than the trials they come with. 

Overall, I know I am so blessed and I am so especially grateful to be a mother to the most wonderful boy.  I'm blessed beyond measure to have such a loving and dedicated partner to navigate this life with and for caring, understanding, and considerate family and friends.  

Happy Mother's Day.  To my own mom, to my friends, sisters, extended family, in-laws, and every nurturing woman with a mother's heart.  I love you all!

In The Quiet Heart

“Even if you have the strongest faith, God will not always reward you immediately according to your desires. Rather, He will respond a piece at a time with what in His eternal plan is best for you. Your continuing exercise of faith will forge strength of character available to you in times of critical need. Such character is not developed in moments of great challenge or temptation. That is when it is used”.

 –Richard G Scott

These past two months have been a journey for me from the darker feelings of depression, to looking for light and feeling the beginning of hope take root again.  Not just hope for a baby someday, but hope to be happy.  Hope to have a great life despite any medical problems or circumstances. 

In a popular hymn in my church, there is a powerful line written: In the quiet heart is hidden sorrow that the eye can’t see.

That is how I felt at the start of this process, almost two months ago.  I felt like I needed to be outwardly positive and energetic and that enough time has passed for me to be “normal” again, but I felt anything but normal.  This is what I wrote about it at the time:

“I’ve been hurting a lot this past week.  A lot of deep, dark, out-of-the-blue heartbreak and pain.  I wish it would give me a little break and let me feel peace for more than a day at a time.  This blog is therapy for me, but I know I need to pray more often for peace.  If I can’t find balance doing those things I may even look into getting some help professionally because I’m really struggling.  I know life has ups and downs and I am praying for an “up” soon because I feel like I am just about at my breaking point.  God pushes us to make us stronger, but I am praying for release and relief.  I am craving some sort of answer and something to bring me more happiness, even if that answer is the strength to focus more diligently and happily on some endeavor I currently have in my life.  I’ve learned to trust in the Lord’s timing but I just can’t seem to fill my time the way I think He wants me to, because I’m so sad All. The. Time.  I don’t think medication is the answer for me.  I think it’s prayer, exercise, eating healthy, working and studying hard, having fun with my family, counting my blessings, and maybe the occasional romantic date with my husband.  But all those things are hard to get into when you feel so sad.  I have no effort or energy.  My attitude is lacking.  I need a jumpstart Lord, just a jumpstart please.”

I think part of my pain was coming from anger.  Not an overwhelming amount of anger, but just bits that have been collecting inside of me as we’ve been dealing with all of this.  Don’t get me wrong, I don’t feel that I have been mistreated and I have been very fortunate to have kind and loving people surround me.  It comes from misunderstanding, and haven’t we all felt misunderstood at times?  So when I wrote the following paragraph, it was not intended as a message of ingratitude or hurt feelings, but just of truth.  Excuse the rant format that the writing took on, but that’s what I needed at the time.

“One of the first things people ask me when they heard I've lost another pregnancy "how far along were you."  I know they are curious, and I know that I open the door by sharing information, but does it REALLY MATTER?  Does it somehow dull the pain to be "only" so far?  I'm thankful I've never had to deliver a stillborn child, and that if the life had to end my body was able to take care of it on its own, but the pain of loss is still there.  Pain is not measured in week's gestation.  A dream and a child is lost.  A life that was growing has stopped.  That's enough.

Cliche answers hurt.  I believe in reaching out to Christ in hard times.  But all it sounds like is "Reach up to God because it's really not that bad.  It's in your head- this is hard for you.  It will pass. Have more faith and you wouldn't be so sad.  Get some perspective and then it won't seem so bad."  But guess what- IT IS BAD.  It's horrible and heart wrenching and lonely.  People offer advice as if you are choosing to be unhappy and are worse because of it.  Almost as if you are weak, or a sinner because of it.  Sure, I try to be happy but grief doesn't always work that way! Some nights it really hurts! Literally pains you and you can't just put a smile on your face and move on.  Your heart is broken.  Sometimes you have to just sit and breathe and endure the searing pain.  You try to endure the hurt bravely and that is as close to happy as you get.  The overwhelming vibe I get from others is “get over it quickly” even if they don’t intend to send that vibe.  Support is not spitting out cliche sayings about "there are worse things" or "at least this or that didn't happen..."  Yes, those things may be true, but belittling someone's hurt does nothing but hurt more and causes the one hurting to put more blame on themselves.  They think "I shouldn't feel this way."  Support is saying I'm sorry for your loss. I love you.  God loves you. It hurts because it matters.  I believe in you.  Real support doesn't glamorize the future or disregard the past.  True pain deserves true sympathy and love.  Not a holier-than-thou attitude because people that think they've got it figured out though they have never been through it- they don't.  This is true for many obstacles in life.  Next time someone is hurting, give them what they need- don't discredit their pain and preach to them.”

The Lord does give us jumpstarts, or as I usually call them, tender mercies.  He has helped me through this hurt.  The first mercy that I found was validation, through a blog post called “Why Miscarriage Matters When You’re Pro-Life” that resonated my exact feelings.  I was so appreciative for the wording and honesty of the blog.  It soothed my soul and I felt less alone in my pain.  I would like to share a section of the post.  It can be found at: http://thelewisnote.blogspot.com/2014/02/why-miscarriage-matters-if-youre-pro.html

“In this Christian microcosm of ours, somehow an aborted baby had so much more to offer the world than a miscarried one.

Both babies may have died at the same gestation -- one by choice, the other by chance. But the value attached to each child completely depended on how that child died. 

Here are some of the mixed messages I received -- sometimes just hinted at, other times outright:

An aborted baby deserves to be grieved. A miscarried one deserves to be gotten over. And quickly.

An aborted baby could have been the next Einstein or Bach or Mother Theresa. A miscarried baby was probably damaged goods.

An aborted baby was a real person, and should have the rights as such. A miscarried baby was not a real child -- naming them really is kinda weird. Speaking of weird . . . counting them in the line-up of your children? THAT'S weird!

An aborted baby should always be missed in this world. God had created them for a purpose, no matter what health issues they may have had. A miscarried baby was meant for heaven -- and we moms should just be so thankful we have a baby in heaven, and should not grieve the loss of their place on earth. After all, they never TRULY had a place on earth, did they?

An aborted baby is a tragedy. A miscarried baby is slight bump on the road of life.

An aborted baby could never be replaced. A miscarried baby can always be replaced -- "Oh, don't worry, hon -- your time will come again. You'll have more. Just relax and trust God. You'll see."

An aborted baby's mom should know exactly what she's missing out on if she has living children. A miscarried baby's mom should not grieve that loss, but instead, should just be thankful for the lives of her living children.

This isn't a debate about abortion. Really, it's not. 

It's a call to those of you who say you are pro-life. It's a call to be consistent. 

Do you really believe life -- personhood -- begins at conception? If so, standing up against abortion is understandable. But so is treating a miscarriage as a real death of a real person.

What if you didn't try to stifle her tears? What if you welcomed them? And matched her tears with your own?

What if you held back any trite, easy answers that promised God's will and promised easy comfort? What if you just wrapped your arms around her the way Christ would?

What if you made that meal, bought those flowers and wrote that card?

What if you went to the hospital and sat in the waiting room for her, even if you wouldn't see her? Just because she is your friend. Just because that's what you do when someone is sick in the hospital or their child is dying.

What if you called her child by name?

What if you went to the service if they planned one? What if you helped her find a support group? What if you offered to go with her?

What if you prayed constantly for that hole in her heart that will one day scab, one day scar, but will never fully heal? 

What if you were consistent? What if all your actions when dealing with loss of any kind, affirmed that fact that all life -- ALL LIFE -- is good, worthy of recognition and worthy of grief.

What if you didn't just affirm to the world that all babies are valuable -- but you also affirmed to a bereaved mom that HER baby was irreplaceable, and would forever be missed?

A person is a person . . . no matter how small.

And I would add . . . no matter when or how they died.”

That blog was so comforting to me.  It was hard to admit it to myself, but I think one of my difficulties with mourning was the question of what we consider life.  We are bombarded with messages that tell us that the beginnings of life are meaningless.  We often hear the term “ball of cells” etc.  I never felt that way when I was pregnant- especially feeling the overwhelming amount of love right from the start for this little life.  Not just the idea, but love for the actual little life that had just started to grow.  That one, specifically.  But I would get moments of fear where I had the thought I was being ridiculous for mourning when perhaps there was no life at all.  Perhaps I was fooling myself.  People would have taken me more serious if the losses were at 17 weeks instead of before 6 weeks, before we even see a heartbeat.  But then I look at the chart of the HCG rising before it plummeted, and I think of the changes I felt within me, and the sudden stop of symptoms and the physical pains I felt when the life was lost.  Though it was early and short, life is life.  It is not just the potential for life when it is already growing.  I’ve been told by people before “Oh that must be hard to have multiple miscarriages because you must get so excited thinking you’ll have a baby and then are disappointed.”  Well, it’s more than that.  It’s not like I thought I might be pregnant and then wasn’t.  I was.  There was life.  And then it was gone.  That is a loss; and much more than a loss of excitement. 

I experienced another tender mercy not too long after reading the blog post.  I had seen this picture many times before, but the next time my eyes fell on it, it felt like my heart stopped and it spoke to me.  I love how God can speak to us through art.  He can speak to us through any means that work for us, but art and music are particularly emotional and tender mediums for me and I am thankful that He helps me find peace through them.  I believe the picture is a portrayal of Mary teaching young Jesus to pray; he is perhaps 2 or 3 years old in the painting.  I love the oil lamp giving light to the scene- which seems to symbolize putting “oil in our lamps” and growing in the gospel, as we learn about in the parable of the Ten Virgins in the Bible.  When I saw the picture, my heart saw myself in the painting, in a more humble state.  I saw myself as a mother who understood her essential role in the life of a very important and special child.  I was focused on my role and my blessings, and dedicated all my effort to them instead of wallowing in the pains of life.  It was such a beautiful moment.  I saw how I wanted to be.   I felt overwhelming love for Jack.  He is my boy and truly my life’s work.  I want him to grow up with a mother who is happy.  I don’t want poison to suddenly well up inside me and take over.  I want to be in control.  Every time I see this piece of art now, I remember that feeling and it is a source of strength.  Kevin has told me that he will take care of finding the painting for our house so I look forward to the time where he will surprise me with it.  It’s not the easiest one to find. 

I think it’s times like these that we truly come to acknowledge our need for the Savior.  It hurts me to look at a picture from myself a few years ago and see a totally different person.  Someone who was happy and energetic and determined even in hard times.  I feel like I was a much higher caliber person then.  I don’t always feel a drive to life these days and honestly, sometimes I don’t try very hard.  It hurts me to say that, especially in my prayers, but I have to trust that Heavenly Father loves me even when I don’t try my best.  

Maybe I don’t try my best in my outward doings every day, but I have an emotional battle raging inside of me and I am fighting just to tame those demons and still have a good outlook on the world.  I have never dealt with pain of this intensity.  I’m new at it, maybe I’m not very good at it yet.  But I want to recognize myself again.  I want to work hard again, with energy and diligence.  Hopefully the desire is enough to God to love me in spite of me, and send angels to help me through the laziness of depression and find life in my life again.  I don’t want to miss a moment with Jack or Kevin.  I want to feel a fullness of love even in hard times.  I think the best place to start feeling that love is with the love Heavenly Father has for us.  It’s perfect and something I don’t understand.  It’s flawless even when bombarded with our earthly faults.  Sometimes all I can pray for is “show me your love today please” and when I can feel the spirit- my energy and drive picks up.  My life gets better.  I hope I can make habits out of the little moments I find bursts of passion to do better.  All those little moments will eventually come together to make me the woman I want to be.  Not the one I used to be, because she hadn’t been through all of what I am trying to understand now, but a better version of myself.  I’m somewhat ashamed of the step I am in now but I want to keep trying so that I don’t stay this way.  I want to start praying for others more.  I know that will help.  I try not to make too many more goals because I am already overwhelmed with my long term goals, and just the basic goals of that day.  But mostly, my goals now boil down to better, more honest prayer.  I believe that will direct everything else I need to do, one step at a time as I can handle it. 

I don’t get upset at people for talking about their pregnancies or babies (how could I…seriously) it just makes me miss my babies I’ve never met.  That’s where the pain comes from.  It makes me remember my inability to deliver them safely, and it sometimes makes me feel like less of a woman than the mother-to-be I’m speaking with.  That is a deep and personal pain in the quiet heart.  That's where I have to turn to God for help.  

I continued to work through the weeks and find hope in little things in our life.  I focused my time on trying to help Kevin figure out if doctorate school is in the picture this year, we started looking at places to move, and he got a new job.  And seemingly out of nowhere, my sister was in labor and just a few hours later a beautiful little girl joined our family. 

I was so overwhelmed and excited/nervous to go meet a newborn member of my family in the hospital that I cried three or four times during the day.  I just didn’t know how I was going to react.  I wasn’t sure if it would be beautiful and peaceful, or extremely painful.  I knew I was excited to meet her and for her to be part of our family, and that’s why I needed to go as soon as I could.

When I think of my babies who were never born, the heartache starts in the core and then it feels like the blood runs out of my fingers and toes.  I think it’s the same for whenever you miss someone so much that it hurts.  Since the day I found out that my sister was pregnant, I knew it would be a difficult balance for me between joy and pain.  It was.  She has had some health problems in the past, so at one point we weren’t sure if she would be able to have more children, but this pregnancy was perfect.  I am so happy for them, but it was hard to lose a buddy who was “in the same boat” as me, being baby hungry and having to wait.  I knew that the day of the birth could go many different ways.  I prayed I would be able to handle it with grace and not run screaming from the hospital and have a total breakdown.

I felt emotionally displaced all day as she went through labor, and as I waited to go visit the baby once she was born.  I think I was afraid that as I held this baby, just a few hours old, that I would see the faces of my four lost babies and it would be too painful to handle.  But I didn’t see my babies who I didn’t meet.  I just saw Sydney.  She was beautiful.  She looked just like her brother and sister, and felt like my niece.  Holding her I knew she belonged right where she was in our family.  It was a blessing to feel more peace and happiness than pain.  The only difficult part was choking down tears was when my husband was holding her.  He looked so happy and was talking to sweetly to her.  I wish I could give him that joy for us again.  I was hoping that as I held the baby I would feel the Spirit tell me just to be patient and that our time would come, or feel confirmation that someday we will be blessed with another child.  I didn’t feel any of those promptings or whispers, but I guess you can’t force promptings.  I’m just happy that it went so much better than it could have.  I’m proud of myself for crying it all out before I went so I could enjoy my new niece and not let my joy be stolen by this trial we deal with .  It’s not our time now.  I hope it is in the plan someday.  I know that I will be blessed with a greater love and appreciation for my next child than I could have ever imagined possible before going through these losses.  I’m thankful for the joy Sydney has brought to our family, and for the grace and patience my family has shown me as I’ve processed my emotions and gone through all my different phases.  I’m learning how to deal with grief and hopefully learning how to be patient. 

One week and one day after Sydney’s birth, Kevin’s sister gave birth to a little girl and my little niece Emma joined our family as well.  I was sad not to meet her in person, but thankful to not have to go through the rollercoaster of being in the maternity ward twice in one week. I'm glad to have another beautiful spirit in my family.  

I’ve been looking for the good things every day.  It’s amazing how much little things that make you smile can light up your whole day, and eventually your life- if you let them. 

I love the icon that appears on the homepage of my school account when I log in to do my transcriptions (which the professors understand can be frustrating).  It’s a picture of a cloud burst with the overlay saying “Every day is a fresh start.”  If I remembered that more often perhaps I would loom in gloom for such long stretches.  Even putting this post together now I can see some of the progress I’ve made.  Only a few weeks after the rant and discussion about feeling so depressed, I wrote this:

“I’ve had more good days lately- that is a big step for me!  I’m putting more effort into reading scriptures, doing homework, and even exercise.  I’m trying to keep my house cleaner and think of how I can help others.  It’s not easy or perfect, but I know that if I do my best during the day, I feel much better about myself at night.  That spirals to help me wake up happier and more motivated.  I’ve been stuck in a depression slump for too long.  I know that when my house is (mostly) clean, it helps a lot.  I’m trying to keep it clean enough that it is manageable and quick to tidy up before it gets out of control.  I hope I can keep it up.  Now that Kevin has finished his online class we have less stress in our home at night.  We are still in limbo with work, school, money, and moving so there is still plenty of stress but we’re trying to deal with it well.  Plus parenting a two year old is hard- sometimes we want to deal with tantrums in different ways and it can bring my blood pressure up, but we do our best. I wish I could somehow finish my reports faster, but I literally have over a thousand left and have to finish by the start of June.  No big if I wasn’t mom all day and running the household.  I know I could try harder.  It’s difficult nonetheless.  I’m pretty sure I will have to purchase an extension instead of finishing faster and making money.  I’m kind of upset with myself for that, but I can only give myself to so many directions at once." 

Service is too often in my mind a project or favor for someone outside my own family.  I've realized though, that service is so alive in our own home too.  Doing the dishes and making dinner to try and help smooth the chaos over- washing someone’s load of laundry, and trying to hurry to finish so I can sort clothes to donate- that’s what the Lord wants of us.  To be actively engaged in a good cause to help people around us within our day-to-day activities and chores.  Sometimes I feel like I'm “wasting time" on these mundane tasks, because the night gets away from me, but now I've realized this is how I should be spending my time, and I feel a lot better.  This is what it’s really all about.  Small and simple things in our home bring about great things.

I’m starting to appreciate the little moments of reminiscing more, and finding them less painful.  It was hard going through all of Jack’s baby clothes (I was able to donate most of them to a woman who just had twin boys) and in fact, we just sold most of his infant furniture.  That was important to me, and a step to accepting that our life is currently going in a different direction.  I was finally able to smile and remember those good times and just take a breath and remember that’s not where we are right now.  It's still sad for any mom though, to find newborn clothes when her baby is big!

I was blessed to be able to go home to North Carolina for three weeks and try to give my mind some fresh air.  We took a little vacation down to Florida for a week, and then I spent two more weeks at my mom’s house. The vacation was one of those times where I felt thankful for the “freedoms” I enjoy with an only child, even though I would not have chosen for it to be this way.  The chaos of one child in an amusement park was enough for me.  But it was manageable and he was such a good boy, so we were all able to have a good time and make memories.  Not sure if that would have been possible with a toddler and a small baby.  I’m learning to enjoy the benefits of focusing all my attention on one child.  

We lost a dear family friend who was only 20 years old while I was visiting home.  Though I don’t want to go into all my thoughts about him here, it was certainly a reminder of our mortality and forced me to put things in my life back into perspective.  It was a devastating loss and I found myself really relying on the Lord for peace and understanding.  I am thankful to feel closer to God during this time of heartache. 

Just as I had to come to terms that God called Hans home at a time we all felt was unfair, I’ve been reminded in my pondering regarding children, that “If it’s not their time to come, it’s not their time.”  It’s not really about my life. Children are on loan from the Lord and I’ll be blessed to be the mother of whoever comes to me.  Granted, it often feels as if many people get to choose or “plan” when and how their family grows, but maybe our next child is supposed to come at a very specific time.  I need to have faith, be patient, and be grateful for what I have in the meantime to gain a peaceful heart and have a happy life.  One thing I absolutely cannot do is compare my life to my friends’ lives or how their families are growing.  We are all different and that is ok.  It’s not for lack of trying to grow my family. 

A very dear friend of mine has just had a beautiful, sweet little boy.  I wrote about him before, he has spina bifida and had surgery before he was born (science is unbelievable…).  By nothing short of a miracle, he stabilized and was able to stay in the womb for 8 weeks after the surgery.  This week her water broke (also a miracle that her labor started with her water breaking so they could get her right into surgery…only like 10% of women start their labor with their water breaking) and after a life-flight trip, he was born via c-section about 6 weeks premature.  Which, for the situation, is just miraculous to me.  They have been in my thoughts constantly.  This has not been an easy journey.  I was on the phone with her and she was expressing some guilt that he had come early and that she hadn’t been able to “keep him in longer” so that he would have an easier time breathing (he is struggling a little now with his premature lungs).  As I offered any comfort and advice I could, I was really reminding myself of the lessons I have learned through my struggles.  We don’t get to pick when babies come or when they go- that’s all the work of the Lord I’ve learned.  But we just get to be the best moms to them while we have them with us.  Putting the control in the Lord’s hand is hard, but it does bring peace.  We do all we can do, absolutely everything- and trying to do anything beyond that does nothing but cause stress and heartache. He sends us beautiful miracles, and they are truly in his care.

As a final note (I know this post has grown very long because it’s covered a longer time span) I wanted to share one last experience.  I talked with a woman tonight who had a daughter, and then 13 miscarriages.  On her last miscarriage she was 16 weeks, and was hemorrhaging.  When she woke up in the hospital, her uterus was gone- they had no choice but to take it.  She was beyond devastated (especially because she had no warning), but now that her daughter is 23, she had lots of perspective and advice for me.  I really appreciated her help and support, especially the guidance on how to get out of the depression sinkhole after a loss and still be a good mom to the miracle you have.  She’s in the 1% and I was so thankful to meet her and see her strength.  I hope that our story ends differently, but it’s nice to know that she is still happy and has a good life.  I’m glad to be working on being happy.  Some days I still cry and it’s an uphill battle, but I finally am realizing it’s possible.  My fear still stops me in my tracks occasionally, but that is when I turn to the Lord and I know he will make up the difference.  I'm thankful to Him for all I have learned in the past two months, because I am a happier person now than I was then.    

Hope in Unlikely Places

The cycle continues.  About two to three months after a miscarriage, I find myself pondering and imagining about “next time.”  I start to ponder what my “medical plan” will be, and even let myself dream just a little bit of the uncontainable joy I would experience if I were ever able to hold another newborn child of my own.  Granted, our next pregnancy is at least 10-11 months away if not more, because we promised to take a break for at least a year.  Four losses seem to leave you no choice but that.  And if that weren’t enough, I am beyond terrified to get this implant cut out of my arm.  I already find myself worrying about that part even though it’s like a year away (get it together Amber, seriously).  Regardless, a mother’s heart is a fertile heart, and so I dream of when my miracle will come to me.

I’ve generally come to see clinics and doctor’s offices as places that usually deliver bad news.  Tracking my last four pregnancies and losses took place in a doctor’s office.  So, naturally, I’ve come to dislike them somewhat.  Bad memory triggers.  Who likes going to the doctor anyway, right?  I was feeling particularly somber today as I made my way to the InstaCare inside of the hospital for this sinus infection that won’t die.  I prefer saline/over-the-counter remedies to antibiotics- but too many days of pressure headaches motivated me to get a prescription.  The InstaCare is located just past the elevator that goes up to the labor and delivery/OBGYN floor.  So naturally, I passed by several women nearing their due date, as well as several tiny newborns nestled into their carseats.  I smiled a sad smile at them with a heavy heart and thought of my due dates past, and one that I had coming up in August.

I took a deep breath and put on my brave face and grabbed a magazine to flip through as I waited.  In that magazine I found a little boost of hope, even though I was surrounded an environment that is very painful for me.

Let me flashback for a second.  It was just last night I was discussing my next “plan” with Kevin.  I told him how next time we take a positive pregnancy test, I really want it to be between us and the Lord.  Not because I want to be irresponsible, but because no amount of medical intervention that we’ve done has made the slightest difference.  It never bought us any more time.  If it had given us even a few more weeks I would be right back in the office, but nothing ever changes in the slightest.  What the constant trips to the doctor has done, is help educate us.  We know what conditions I have, and what I don’t.  We know what our options are, and what we have tried.  Most of all, we know there is nothing they can technically “do” to save our pregnancies.  I have been poked and prodded and evaluated more times than I can remember.  I have tried aspirin with all kinds of varying timelines, daily lovenox injections, hormone therapy, HCG monitoring, etc.  Now we know those things didn’t change the outcome, all they really gave me was an insane amount of stress.  

This last pregnancy was the hardest.  I don’t think one can understand the stress of getting a test every 48 hours to find out if your baby is still alive, unless you have been through it.  Even the tests that came back well were insanely difficult.  They allowed me to take a huge breath of relief for one more day, even though I was still filled with worry and stress.  When I got the test back that told me baby had only grown 12% it was absolutely horrible.  The emotional exhaustion was too much.  I basically went home and waited for the life to stop, and then to lose it.  Finding out you are losing your baby alone in the bathroom is horrible, but perhaps at least a few weeks of hope instead of needles, calls from the nurse, and constant monitoring is a blessing. 

As far as medication, I still believe that aspirin is important for me to take for both me and a growing baby.  However, I think next time I won’t start on it until we find out we are expecting. That’s what I did with Jack and it worked.  The doctors told me being on aspirin while trying to conceive shouldn’t make enough of a difference to determine the outcome of a pregnancy, but if that’s the case, it shouldn’t matter if I take it beforehand or not.  Maybe my thinking is flawed here, but when you get to this point you have to listen to your gut.  I take the aspirin before a positive pregnancy test to decrease the risk of microclotting in the primitive placenta.  Starting it at 4 weeks is still very early, but I just have a feeling that the aspirin is perhaps interfering with the implantation process when I take it earlier.  There is no medical evidence to support this.  I’ve started on aspirin pre-pregnancy twice, and lost both.  I’ve started on aspirin after a positive test three times, and one of those was Jack.  In fact, my pregnancy with Jack was the latest I’ve ever started on aspirin.  Which tells me that it seems to be more of a preventative measure than something that really affects outcome.  The progesterone I used in my last pregnancy didn’t buy me any more time and I didn’t use any with Jack.  Though I’m not opposed to using it, it’s not medically proven or even recommended by my doctor for any purpose.

These are the reasons why I feel peaceful when I imagine our next pregnancy will just be between us and God.  If I make it to 6 weeks, I will practically run to the clinic, but the stress of imagining the every-other-day appointments with no change in outcome is simply too much.  Our next step is a fertility clinic.  I just can’t imagine being ready to jump into that world without giving my body one more old-fashioned chance.  Kevin agreed with my thoughts and felt peaceful about the idea of trying once more next year, using only aspirin once we find out there is a life growing.  If, heaven forbid, we lose that baby, I will surrender and work with a fertility clinic from that point. 

Enough of the long back-story, back to the magazine.  I was flipping through articles when something caught my attention.  An entire page of writing with a large title, “Recurrent Pregnancy Loss.”  What?!  Someone took the time to write about this in a normal magazine?  It talked about some basic statistics and then started talking about causation. 

First it discussed chromosome abnormalities which are the most common cause of miscarriage.  Then it discussed gene “translocation” which is one of the most common reasons for losing three or more pregnancies in a row.  It’s where one of the parents have part of a chromosome attached to another chromosome, which has somehow balanced out.  It makes it difficult to have a healthy embryo.  My doctor and I have discussed this.  Testing is extremely expensive and rarely yields a helpful result.  Even if you find out this is the reason, the only way to avoid it is to do IVF and screen embryos…and even then, no guarantees.  I think we are a few years away from going down this road.  If for no other reason, because it would be financially impossible.  Plus, I just can’t get over the fact that my very first pregnancy resulted in a healthy boy... if I really had a chromosome issue?  The statistics just don’t add up to me.  But I suppose it’s possible.

Next it discussed age and being an older mom (not my problem).  Then it talked about lack of progesterone even though this is not a proven theory.  We tried progesterone with no benefit noted.  It talked about uterine abnormalities, which is not my problem as it would have been noted with my pregnancy with Jack.  Next was thyroid problems.  Check.  I have hypothyroidism; however, it is well controlled with medication and technically should have no causation in my losses.  In fact, my thyroid usually is healthier while I’m pregnant.  Next was antiphospholipid syndrome, which my hematologist thought I had, but the test came back surprisingly negative.  Next is blood clotting problems.  Check.  Leiden Factor V, low protein C and S, MTHFR.  Check check check.  The article explained how these could be controlled with aspirin and heparin (similar to Lovenox) and increased live birth rates.  Tried it every time with no luck. 

Well here I was at the end of the article feeling pretty discouraged.  All of these reasons and solutions, and no new direction to go in.  Perhaps in the end we would depend on a simple miracle after all.  And then the last paragraph caught my eye. 

70% chance of a miracle.  With no medical intervention.  There is a 70% chance that our next baby will be born and held safe and warm in our arms.  I hope that the more times we try, our chances will only improve.  I am thankful for tender mercies such as this.  The next time I am pregnant, I hope I can tell myself "there is a 70% change that this baby will be born"  instead of "only one of my previous five pregnancies has been successful; my odds aren't good."  Though I know our next pregnancy is a while away, I felt peace in my plan as I read this.  I want to keep the start of my next pregnancy at home and out of the office.  I want to try and stay calm in the comfort of my home, the support of my husband, and with strength from prayer.  I know that our chances are still good of having a healthy baby with very little medical intervention.  I know that it will be better on me to have that stress and worry removed.  If it is God’s plan for medicine to be more involved, we will find ourselves in a fertility clinic and go that route after another loss.  However, I have peace for now in our plan and can look forward to it.  70%.  That number makes me smile.  God is aware of us.  I am thankful for this kind reminder of hope.  My miracle may not be my next pregnancy, or the one after that, but it will come to us somehow, someday.  May 2015 be a year of miracles.  Here’s to hoping and dreaming.      

The 1%

Among all women, about 20% of pregnancies unfortunately end in miscarriage.  Less than 1% of women will have 3 or more consecutive miscarriages in their life.  While I consider myself lucky in many areas of my life, this is an area I feel particularly unlucky in.  1%.  How did I not end up in the other 99% somehow?  It is a lonely and desolate place.  Though there is support to be found from women who have ever experienced a miscarriage, it becomes a different trial when you have lived through it four times in a row.  There is support from couples who struggle with infertility.  But again, it is not quite the same.  That loneliness can sometimes feel very heavy as I keep fighting to deal with the mourning and emptiness I feel almost daily. 

However, I was grateful when I learned of a woman (a friend of a friend) who has a beautiful child in first grade, but has endured losses in all the years since the birth of their first child.  She is pregnant now, and the baby is healthy and well past the point of their other losses.  Not only was her story miraculous and inspiring- I was simply amazed that there was someone else dealing with it.  I hope I don’t have to endure as many years as they have to meet my next miracle. 

She wrote me and gave me a little advice- saying the most important thing is to keep trying, as painful as it is.  She affirmed that once your body has done it once, you can do it again.  It's so good to hear that- sometimes I feel like people will think I'm foolish for trying again and again.  Not that it matters what others think in these situations, but it's still helpful to feel supported.  With every loss I become less shocked at the loss, and more shocked that I ever had a live birth.  If my mom hadn’t gone against my wishes and filmed my son being born I might not even believe it myself anymore.  My first pregnancy had no real complications and resulted in a healthy and thriving child.  I don’t know what could have possibly changed so much within me in a few short years.  However, I know that it happened and my child was in fact born, and so I have to keep trying because I know it is possible.  It may not be probable, but my body has done it before.  I have to trust that it can do it again.  The trick is finding that patience to endure.    

Though recurrent miscarriage is not an extremely common, I have been blessed and have connected with people who are in similar circumstances.  People I never would have met normally.  Friends, working alongside the internet, have connected me to a support system that has blessed my life.  I want to give back to someone else if I can.  Just the other week, someone told me of a relative who has struggled with recurrent miscarriages and is very discouraged.  I gave her my blog address hoping to either connect or support her somehow.  If anything good comes out of something bad- it makes a difference.  I try to reach out to people I connect with through these networks.  People don’t always write back, and I respect that privacy.  Really more than “talking about it” I just want to show love to these couples.  I want them to know that they are loved and that I feel their pain.  I want them to know that they are not alone, even though it really feels like it when you are mingling with 99% of people who don’t really understand.

It is a challenge in the 1% to wonder why you can't just “plan your family” like "normal people" but I am trying to keep a new attitude in mind- which is that everyone feels like that in some way.  We all try to reach this "normalacy" and when we struggle to get there it can be frustrating.  Whether it be getting a degree, finding a good job, buying a house, finding a loving spouse, having children, finding fulfillment in hobbies, etc.  I don't think it's "normal" to just "have it all" without the struggle.  Whatever your dreams may be.  So when I'm laying in bed feeling broken and feeling like the odd one out, I try to remember I have things going for me in my life that someone out there is wishing they had, like a "normal" person like me does.  We all struggle. We have to embrace our struggles with faith and have joy in what we have found. 

Comparison is the thief of joy.  Most of the time, I am very happy with my life and all of my blessings.  It's when I feel that emptiness that my trials bring, and see so many others around me with that fortune I wish for, that I start to feel despair.  And so, I am learning to not compare. I am learning to see my life as my own, and different from anyone else's.  Envy does nothing but hurt me.  I know there will always be sadness in my heart when I sit in my OBGYN clinic surrounded by beautiful round bellies full with life.  But sadness and righteous desire can be different from envy.  I want to be more Christlike in this behavior.  I want to feel joy for others in their good fortune.   

I'm afraid that it's never going to get better sometimes; that I will lose every pregnancy I’ll ever have, but I don’t want to let that fear get in the way of feeling joy for others. 

 Elder Holland is so wonderful as he describes this principle when speaking of the biblical parable of the Prodigal Son.  Specifically in this case, he is speaking of the elder brother:

"He is haunted by the green-eyed monster of jealousy. One who has heretofore presumably been very happy with his life and content with his good fortune suddenly feels very unhappy simply because another has had some good fortune as well."  -Elder Holland

I know that we all feel lonely in some areas of our lives, and no matter what “percentage” we find ourselves in, stretching ourselves and cultivating Christlike abilities to feel joy for others will bring us joy and peace in our hearts.