Hi ladies. I’ve had a rough couple of weeks, and I need your feedback.
On Oct. 27th, I took a test and found out I was pregnant. One week later, I started bleeding. Four days and two blood tests later, my midwife confirmed a miscarriage.
Please bear with me as I attempt to sort through the myriad emotions that I’ve been wrestling with:
Shock. I was not actively trying to get pregnant. As most of you know, I have a history of unexplained infertility and I don’t get pregnant without a lot of effort. So my initial reaction was WTF? I thought DH might be upset, as this was unplanned (although we had agreed that we were open to another child, we didn’t talk about timing). And truth be told, my initial selfish thoughts were: how am I going to fit into the size 8 bridesmaid dress sitting in my closet? I guess I won’t be running that half marathon in January. I can’t fly to my best friend’s wedding in April. And that long-planned trip to Europe next summer will be postponed indefinitely (the due date was June 27th).
Excitement. Then DH noticed my period was quite late (yes, he subconsciously tracks my menstrual cycles. Yet another WTF moment). I told him my suspicion that I was pregnant, and I took the test that night. He was happy, which made me happy. Then I started letting myself get excited. Because of my past infertility, this baby was meant to be, I thought. DD would finally get the baby brother or sister she has been begging for (she adores babies). I could share the happy news with my family at Christmas, around the 12 week mark. And I would get another baby. I have enjoyed every stage of motherhood, and now I was eager to do it all over again. We started talking names, and bedroom configurations, and even the larger car we would need to buy.
Despair. The bleeding started slowly, with some sporadic spotting for a couple of days. I called my midwife, who assured me this was normal, as long as the blood wasn’t heavy or bright red. Then Friday morning I woke up to heavy bleeding, like a period. I headed off to DD’s 2nd grade class, completed my volunteer shift in a daze, then headed to the lab to get blood drawn. I was instructed to repeat the test two days later to check for falling hCG levels. But I knew in my gut that this pregnancy was ending. And oh, the sadness descended. I only had a week to start dreaming and planning and fantasizing, but I already mourned the many possibilities. Then I started to think, why me? Why do I seem to suck at this fertility and pregnancy stuff? Why has having children been such a struggle?
Then came the Guilt. Why the self-pity when I have managed to give birth to two healthy, vibrant children? What more could I want? Maybe this miscarriage is a sign that I should quit while I’m ahead, that I’m tempting fate by trying again. I have so much. Why dwell on what I don’t have?
So now I’m left with Confusion. I have no idea what my next move is. Initially I thought we should try again, but now I’m considering quitting. Still, I am not ready for any permanent measures like a vasectomy. I’m 37 years old and have a full and busy life with two amazing children. I have always heard that when you’re done having children, you’ll just know. So why am I so torn? Maybe it just comes down to not feeling like the choice is completely mine. Which doesn’t sit well with my control freak tendencies.
I guess I’m asking for your insight, your experiences, your advice. Did you know when you were done, or was that choice somehow made for you? If the latter, how did you make peace with it?
You ladies have always been a font of wisdom and comfort. Thanks for giving me a place to vent.
And please, do chat about what else is on your mind today. I don’t want the open thread to be a pity party! Some laughs and snark always soothe my soul 😆