The Third Miscarriage In A Row
As I lay curled up in bed in my parents guest room, in the process of losing yet another pregnancy, I thought to myself how strange it is that women have menstrual cycles on a monthly basis but when you bleed from a miscarriage it feels completely different. There's an intimate awareness that a life is exiting your body.
The ironic thing is that after our second miscarriage, Paul and I started saying what if we just stop now? We're so happy with our boys and maybe it's just best for us to move forward? A week later we found out we were pregnant again. We were ecstatic and we talked about it the whole drive up to Green Lake (going to visit my parents). It was like we were re-framing the entire vision of our future with the expectation of this new little one. Where all the kids would sleep, how we'd use the mini crib, not finding out the sex this time, what camping trips would be like with three kids, etc. All of our past heartbreak and losses were tucked away in a safe place. I felt cautiously confident this time.
Recurrent pregnancy loss is when a woman experiences 3 consecutive miscarriages.
The internet tells me that only about 1% of women will have three miscarriages in a row.
Our next step is being referred to an OB to start the process of finding what the source of the problem is, if any at all.
Right now we have so many questions and unknowns. I've had two healthy pregnancies with my boys, so what changed? What's going on under the surface? Is there a connection to all of the losses? Will we find out why we lost Sparrow at the end of the first trimester?
A few years ago we had to see a fertility specialist (briefly wrote about it here) to get pregnant with Maverick. Now, it seems as though I have no problem getting pregnant - I just have trouble staying pregnant.
I don't know what the future holds for us, or what we even want from it, but one thing I know for sure is... I am beyond grateful for family and friends when in valleys like this one. I'm thankful for friends who shoot me a text and tell me they had been thinking of me. I'm thankful for friends who message me a bunch of heart emoji's and that's it. Or laugh when I tell them life is just frickin balls right now. I wouldn't want to experience this alone, and that's why I continue to share our story. I hope that these conversations of loss will become more and more normal, so no one ever feels they have to suffer alone.
Well, I'm off to wrestle with this some more.
Thanks for reading, friends.