I’ve never been much of a numbers girl before this year but suddenly I can’t get enough of them. I’m seem to be able to spend hours Googling statistics: chances of three miscarriages in a row; chances of three in a row with no previous children, chances of successful pregnancy after 6 weeks, 7 weeks, 8 weeks, chances of getting pregnant if you ‘do it’10 days post AF, or if you stand on your head, or if you’re a libra (which I’m not).
And once I have these stats I can spin them to match my mood. If I’m feeling negative, 40% chance, less than half, there’s more chance of rain at a summer wedding than me having a successful pregnancy, it’s never gonna happen *wails*. Or on a good day, people win the lottery or get struck by lightning every day (I’m sure some have done both), my chances of a successful pregnancy are huge, it’ll definitely happen!
But most days the numbers are just numbers, not good or bad just there. The one thing which can always give me hope is people. One of my close friends had a horrid few years with IVF treatments but now she’s days away from giving birth. Another friend from work suffered a missed miscarriage last year and today she brought her three month old in today to meet everyone.
These things give me hope when all the stats seem like random numbers, these names and faces and tiny baby fingers make me feel positive. So this evening rather than googling for stats I’m going to find one persons story (just one) which mirrored mine to date who has now had a healthy baby and that will be enough to remind me that it can, and will, happen for me.
I want this so much that sometimes it hurts. A friend just added a picture like this to Facebook and the emotions that I felt took me by surprise. Most of the time I feel like I’m handling things well and then occasionally I am completely blindsided by my sadness.
I would give anything not to have lost our first two babies but through all of the sadness, there are moments when I can see the silver linings. Despite trying to conceive for five months, when we first discovered that we were expecting in January 2013, I think the boy and I both had an few scared moments when we realised that our lives as we know them would never be the same. After getting over the devastation of the first miscarriage, we found that we really appreciated being able to do things which we had previously taken for granted (and which we won’t be able to do when we finally have a baby). Spontaneous post work drinks, weekend camping trips with the dogs and cross country bike rides all have greater importance now that we appreciate that the time during which we can do these things is (hopefully) limited.
We have also been able to book a holiday of a lifetime which would not have been possible if we had had our September baby. The boy had long talked about wanting to photograph the autumn colours in Boston and New Hampshire and I have a fondness for US holidays (there is something more relaxing about holidaying somewhere where you can speak the language). So a few weeks ago when we got home from the hospital following my second ERPC, we took the plunge and booked a 9 day trip around Boston and New Hampshire for October this year. I cannot wait!
When you are trying to start a family it can often feel as if life is put on hold but I am trying hard to focus on the now and to appreciate the things which are currently possible. Hopefully we can keep experiencing little adventures as a family of two whilst we wait for our life as a family of three to begin.
Welcome to the blog I never thought I’d write. I’d never thought of myself as a blogger. Didn’t really see the point in spending hours writing down random musings that few people would want to (or would ever) read. But now after two missed miscarriages in four months (one discovered at 13 weeks and one at 9 weeks), I feel like I want somewhere to put down in writing how I’m feeling. Hopefully it will help someone else going through a similar experience, and even if no one ever reads it, I feel like it will be good for me to get the thoughts out of my head and into words (wow that sounds deeper than expected – I’m not a deep, big thinker kind of person). Over the coming weeks I am intending to add posts recording some of my experiences from the past six months, from the day I found out I was pregnant for the first time to my second miscarriage, so apologies if they are all a little disjointed.
The key thing which has been on my mind over the past few days has been feeling as if I’m excluded from the ‘Pregnancy Reminiscing Group’ (PRG). This is the group of woman who are either pregnant or who have children and who publically reminisce about their pregnancies. The PRG are the first to share advice when others announce their pregnancies and will talk about their experiences of morning sickness, taking pregnancy tests, having their first scan etc. and I am categorically not allowed to be part of their group! Even my close friends who know about my miscarriages will happily talk about their experiences but if I dare to say anything about my experiences, I am shot down, or glared at. I understand that it can be awkaward for them and that if they don’t think about it, it’s like it didn’t happen. But it did happen and I hate being made to feel as if I should simply erase those months from my life. It’s not like I’m talking about seeing my dead baby on a scan or having an operation or what miscarriage bleeding is like. I appreachiate that no one wants to hear about the bad stuff, but I wish that when people were sharing tips on how to cure morning sickness or are laughing about falling asleep whilst eating due to first trimester tiredness, that I was allowed to vocalise my experience without it being a huge social faux pas. I want to yell, I KNOW EXACTLY WHAT IT IS LIKE TO EXPERIENCE THE FIRST TRIMESTER, I’VE DONE IT, TWICE!
By I don’t, I keep quiet and pretend that it never happened. After all, how can you know what pregnancy is like if you don’t have a baby?