First, I want to thank you all for being on this journey with us. I shared that we suffered two miscarriages in 2020… and these past few week’s I’ve been re-living all the ‘One Year Ago!’ reminders. *deep sigh*
Looking back, I didn’t know I could be brave, but when life hands you the most unexpected heartbreak, you literally pick yourself up and try your best to move forward while finding glimpses of hope for the future.
I’ll be sharing more on our losses soon. Brian and I discussed possibly doing a podcast episode since it’s so hard to type the experiences we’ve had. Let me know below if that’s something you’d like to hear.
And a little backstory… we had decided not to do IVF just yet. We almost went that route in January, but our doctor advised us to try once more.
And recently, we had our first chemical pregnancy. Yup, I was pregnant again. This loss occurs when you’re just a 2-3 weeks pregnant. I was 5 days late and had felt all the pregnancy symptoms leading up to that morning. I avoided taking a pregnancy test too early (I’ve made that mistake and I guess I was just avoiding disappointment), and just as I sat down and took the test, I got my period.
Side-note, if you’ve ever peed on a stick while simultaneously getting your period, you know how utterly annoying it is. You felt like something was coming and then bam, the timing.
* cue Alanis *
Even though I was 5 days late, I quickly moved on and put the stick on my bathroom counter. I went upstairs to clean up and when I came down to pack (I was meeting Brian in Arizona later that day), I went to throw away the test. I glanced down to see TWO FREAKING LINES. I gasped… could I have implantation bleeding? But it was too late for that. But maybe? Could I possibly?
I decided to take a few minutes and logically think through everything before getting too excited. I called a girlfriend who experienced a chemical pregnancy and she told me to wait to see if my bleeding subsided or became my full-blown friend of the month. And sure enough, it came heavier than ever.
It’s weird — I didn’t cry at first. Maybe it’s a protective layer… I don’t let myself get too high or too low these days… I just kind of stay in the middle, especially in the moment. I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing. I do think it helped that I didn’t have months of connecting with the pregnancy, to then lose it like the others. I don’t know.
All pregnancy loss is hard though. It’s all just heart-wrenching and feels so defeating.
Strangely, the times that I break down and cry are if I stub my toe, I can’t find something like my phone, or I feel overwhelmed with work… and then it hits me- I’ll cry for about 20 minutes about fertility and then move on with my day.
Grief is literally so strange— it comes in waves, but it’s also such a mind-f***. One second you’re happy, the next you’re sobbing into a bowl of cereal because something reminded you of your loss.
When I arrived to Arizona I shared the news with Brian. He poured me a glass of wine (my first in a few weeks since I thought, just maybe), and I sat by the pool and I said–
‘well, we’ll try again soon’
To anyone experiencing a miscarriage or riding this fertility journey with us, I’m wrapping my heart around you. As women, we can do hard things… and this is just really hard. I have my good days and my bad days, but today, I’m choosing hope.
I’d love to hear from you below <3