Just yesterday at church, I was asked if there would be more babies in our future. I guess I should take it as a compliment that people don’t automatically know I am pretty close to 40 or they just assume that door might not be closed. However, over the last 24 hours, I keep thinking, will there be more? My automatic response to this questions has always been, It’s in God’s hands. He will be the one to decide if and when we have more babies. Yesterday my answer was, I don’t know. I felt guilty. How can I not know if I want another child.
In my last post, I talked about our journey to have Baby #1 and Baby #2 (click here is you want to catch up Babies). Because of my struggles with birth control before Baby #1, we decided as a couple, okay mostly me, that this was not a road we wanted to go down again. However, since I was told there was never going to be a Baby #2 unless we went through the medical process again and Baby #2 was a huge surprise, we decided to try birth control again. Three months of horrific mood swings, daily migraines and lots of other issues we decided we just needed to watch things and go the route of natural family planning. Within just a few weeks of not taking the medicine, I felt so much better.
Baby #2 was born in May 2010. In September 2011, something was different. I had been sick. Not horribly sick, but just feeling bad. I was later than normal. In the back of my mind I wondered, was I pregnant? Then, something wasn’t right. I waited to call the doctor, just chalking it up to the “female” issues I had. But as the day progressed, I knew this was not normal. I called and or course, I needed to come in and have blood drawn and test taken and an exam. None of which I wanted to deal with because I knew at this point there was nothing they could tell me for sure. She told me, from everything they saw, they thought it was a miscarriage, but they couldn’t be for sure. At this point, it still would have been very early, possibly too early for an over the counter pregnancy test to show as positive and with everything I had been experiencing that day, all signs led to that diagnosis, but they needed to look at the blood work.
The next morning, I got a call that said all looked fine on the blood work, but they couldn’t be for sure I had actually miscarried, they were going to assume I did. If I had any questions, I could call back. I had 1,000,000,000 questions. This had not happened to me before. The people I knew that had experienced the same thing, don’t usually open up about this issue. This isn’t a topic we discuss much in the world even though so many of us have been through this. So here I am experiencing the physical symptoms that come along with a miscarriage, yet no one can tell me for sure. This is when I become one of those black and white people. Why couldn’t they tell me for sure. I needed to know.
In the end, I needed to know because I was grieving a loss. In my mind, I was grieving a loss that might not even be a loss. No one knew for sure. I felt so stupid being sad over something that I didn’t know as a fact. I needed to know. I would never know. I don’t think anyone understood. One person refused to even listen because “in her day” if you miscarried they automatically did a procedure. I tried to explain, yes but that was also 30 plus years ago. Things change. Medicine and practices change. They don’t do procedures now if there isn’t a problem. Some people didn’t quite understand why I was upset because I didn’t know I was pregnant before. For me, just because I didn’t know there was a life inside me doesn’t mean there wasn’t a life. For me, life begins at conception. A baby is a baby at 4 weeks, 20 weeks or 42 weeks. This was such a confusing time for me.
We went on with life and in the back of mind, every November 15, I took a moment to remember what I lost. What we lost as a couple and a family. Theologically correct or not, I had this vision of my Dad, who passed before he could be a grandfather, watching over my baby in heaven.
This past September, I has a similar experience. Things were late. Pregnancy test was negative. A week later, still nothing. I couldn’t eat, had a horrible headache and many other pregnancy symptoms. Then it happened. When it did, it was really bad. I was worried at what I saw and contacted the doctor. A new doctor, may I add. A wonderful, kind compassionate doctor. She said to go get another test and call her with the results. I did. My husband knew the doctors orders but we said nothing. I took the test and there it was, a faint second line. It never got really dark, but it was there. I couldn’t be seen at the doctor till the next day, but she told me signs to be concerned about. By the time we went in the next day, my numbers were almost normal again. Only a small sign of elevation that they didn’t consider a viable pregnancy at that time.
The official term was a chemical pregnancy. I had only heard that term as few times and really didn’t know what it meant. She explained many details, told us how sorry she was that I had to deal with this and asked if I had questions. She was comforting as tears stream down my face as well as my husbands face. This was a confusing time for us. Did we want another baby right now? It wasn’t in our plan, but the thought was terrifying and exciting all in one. The thought that I knew for sure this time, there was a baby, but not really a baby was harder than before.
For me, I truly believe this is when I started having a more difficult time with my anxiety. I wasn’t sure how I should feel or cope with this event. I still don’t know anyone else personally that has a chemical pregnancy. I don’t know if there’s a right or wrong way to feel, but I know I feel something about it. Almost 7 months later, I still have a lot of feelings about the situation and I’m not sure what to do them, how to process them and how to cope with these feelings.
For next time, my thoughts on if there will be more babies for our family. It depends on the day what my answer will be 🙂