Officially the most pregnant


that I’ve ever been!  It feels good to be past my last loss milestone.

Today’s ultrasound, at 9w2d went perfectly.  Both nuggets are still in there, happily growing away.  Both heartbeats are in the high 170’s.  I could even see one of the babies legs moving around.

Its strange though-I still feel totally detached.  Like, the babies on the ultrasound are definitely babies, but I don’t feel like they are mine.  I think it may just be a coping mechanism, a way to protect myself.  Most days I’m ok, and the anxiety is in check. One day this week I had a total meltdown-it wasn’t pretty.  I broke down and rented a fetal doppler to have at home-and hopefully that can help me when I have freak out moments (and won’t further add to my crazy woman tendencies!)  Eric asked if I am just going to walk around with strapped to my stomach!

Hopefully, as time goes on, and I start to show I will feel more confident and start to bond with them.  I hope the next month goes by quickly.  I can’t wait to be out of the first tri, hopefully feel more sure that these are our take home babies, and start getting some relief from my nausea!  I miss wanting food!


Today I remember

And every day I remember.

Today is Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness day.  While I think of my three angels every day, I don’t make a point of publicly recognizing them.  Today is different.  Today I want the world to acknowledge that they existed, that they matter.  I want to remind the world that I am just one of many-one of every 4 women goes through this devastating loss, and somehow finds a way to pick up the pieces.  They find a way to somehow be stronger than they ever thought they could be.

While some memories fade, the memory of each loss is still just as clear as the day it happened.  I still remember, each time, the disbelief.  I can still feel the intense grief.  I remember the exact words that were said by the doctors and nurses givng me the news that no one ever wants to hear.   And the crying.  Crying like I don’t think I’ve ever cried before.  The pain-such a strong emotional pain that it was physical.  I felt so empty, so broken.  I will never forget those feelings, just like I will never forget my babies that are in heaven.  Going through a miscarriage changes you.  I can now say that I was able to survive the losses, but I will never be the same person that I was.  I am forever changed, and will forever have the scars.

The primal drive to be a mother is amazing.  Even though I can still feel the pain, that memory isn’t enough to make me give up.  Here I am, over two years and 3 losses later, still trying.  The only thing that scares me more than having to go through that pain again, is the thought of never being a mother.


Baby Boy….

We received the results of our genetic testing on the baby we lost in June (finally).  It was an abnormal fetus.  It had trisomies of chromosome 18,21 and 22 (I didn’t know you could even have multiple trisomies).  And it was a boy.  I shed a few tears learning the sex of the baby.  Finding out made the loss a little more tangible and “real”.  When I was pregnant I felt like I was carrying a baby girl-so on some level, finding out it was a boy might have been a little easier.

I knew going into the testing that chances were in favor of it being an abnormal embryo-with all the testing I’ve had done, the likelihood of there being another problem was slim.  A part of me had hoped that it was a normal embryo.  That I COULD produce a normal embryo.  But it wasn’t.  The positive of this is that I don’t need to be on blood thinners if I ever get pregnant-my body’s failure is not keeping a pregnancy-but producing a viable embryo.  The flip side is that my eggs are to blame.

This information does help make the next step (if this IVF doesn’t work) clearer.  If after another IVF we still aren’t pregnant, then we are closing the door on infertility treatments using my own eggs. It will be awhile before we try other avenues, but IVF with my own eggs will be off the table.

We miss you baby boy bean…..

Walk a mile (or step) in my shoes

I understand that if you haven’t been through it, then you can’t truly understand what it feels like to have infertility or to lose a pregnancy, to lose a baby.  I understand that other people’s lives have no direct impact on my fertility.  I understand that other people can’t plan their pregnancy’s or how they feel about them around how I might feel.  I don’t want people to feel like they have to walk on egg shells around me, but treading lightly wouldn’t hurt.  All I wish that people would do is TRY to put themselves in my shoes before they speak (or in today’s example, send pictures of their latest ultrasound)

Yes, I am happy for you.  Any child is a miracle and while I don’t begrudge you yours, recogonize the fact that I have been through a lot, for a long time, and I am still grieving a loss.  The only picture I have of my baby is an ultrasound-and by sending me a picture of yours it just reminds me that my baby is gone, and it hurts-like hell- to see that.

While I don’t wish miscarriage or infertility upon anyone, I do wish compassion and understanding on them.  Its not fair that I’ve had to struggle for 2 years to get pregnant, or that I’ve lost 3 pregnancies.  Its not fair that I can’t simply feel happy for others successes-but that’s my life.  Would you send someone who just lost a child-an actual living, outside your body child, an ultrasound picture of theirs?  I doubt it.  While no one else knew my baby-I did, and I grieve its loss everyday.