Pregnancy loss–there is nothing more horrifying, nothing more devastating than seeing the beginnings of life come to an end so quickly.
A life that did not get a chance to live.
They say at least I can fall pregnant. I would rather not experience pregnancy at all than being tormented with three miscarriages. I would rather go through life accepting that having one child is meant to be, than being toyed with glimmers of hope of another baby–only to have that fantasy smashed into a million pieces. As I scramble to pick up the pieces and attempt to connect each one back together, I lay in bed numbed. I try to make sense of it all whilst my body hurts.
I am extremely grateful I have my son. To have naturally conceived him and have no health issues, I count my blessings daily. Yet, to have a little boy constantly ask me for a brother or sister excites me to extend our family.
After my first miscarriage, I was ok. I coped with the loss. Most women will experience pregnancy loss at some point in their lives. One miscarriage was OK to handle. I was young. 22 years of age. I just started university. My boyfriend, who is now my husband, knew we had to set our lives up and become more stable to start a family. So I knew there was plenty of time for children.
The second loss was two and a half years after my son was born. It was also during the year of my suicide attempts and confrontation with my post natal depression and anxiety. It was physically detrimental as my body endured so much that year. Mentally, I knew that the loss was meant to be and I had to recover.
This recent loss has really gotten to me. It has cut a transparent wound in me that runs so deep, that it just will not heal.
Are my ovaries too lazy to have another baby?
Why three losses?
My ovaries are polycystic so maybe that is the reason why I have miscarried again. Or is it my age? Am I leaving it too long?
Are the clocks beginning to tick?
The more I think about it, that transparent wound continuously opens back up.
It is painful.
My heart hangs heavy.
My little boy’s pleas for a sibling echoes and I tear up inside because I cannot give that to him at this present moment. The frustration ripples in my veins because my husband and I are finally stable. We have finally set up our lives. Perhaps I have tried so hard that my ovaries have become tired, or too lazy to have another child. I get frustrated. The frustration curls into anger. When I saw my doctor about my third loss, he reassured me, “Most women experience pregnancy loss.” This was the third time he said this to me.
The frustration turns into anger.
The anger turns into hopelessness.
My mind overthinks. Do most women experience multiple pregnancy loss? Is it to do with the never ending anxieties that bolt onto my shoulders and drag my body down making it hard to move? The everyday grind of work life and mom life where there is no equilibrium. The other external stresses that soak internally, which buries into the skin and eat me alive. Is it to do with my constant health issues of polycystic ovarian syndrome, and recurrent cysts that just do not want to go away? Is it due to the check-ups for cervical cancer all because of the early stages that were detected 12 years ago? Have I ultimately brought it all upon myself?
Are my ovaries too lazy to another baby?
I must admit, my recent pregnancy was not planned.
Yet, I still grieve.
I still ache.
Whether a baby is planned or not, pregnancy loss can be detrimental. Nothing can measure, Nothing can weigh the emotions or physical impairment a mother faces during this time. Even though it has been over a week, I still wonder why it happened, why didn’t the baby just live? The pinches of pain still flicker my womb. The transparent wounds are slowly closing, but open right up when I walk past the empty spare room that could have been the nursery. I know that pregnancy loss often occurs, I know the statistics, I know I am blessed to have one child, but knowing these reassurances does not comfort or take away the pain.
Originally published in She Is Sacred