Another One Bites the Dust

The title of the post pretty much sums up how I have been feeling lately: sarcastic, a little bitter, with an underlying sadness that creeps up on me when it is most inconvenient.  Yup, Dustin and I have just had our 3rd miscarriage, so we are officially a part of the chronic issues club.  Now not only do I struggle with getting pregnant, but keeping the baby seems an impossibility as well.  One scenario where a 2fer is not appreciated.

So, I guess I will start at the beginning, and lucky for readers, conception isn't necessarily the beginning of this story, so the details won't get too juicy.  Dustin finished his first 2 years of medical school in May and, after we moved our lives from the beautiful Caribbean island of Grenada back home to our parent's in Phoenix, Dustin checked out of our lives for all practical reasons to study for his Step 1 exam.  However, despite the huge transition and the looming lack of husband for the summer, we felt a lot of hope and excitement.  We were back in the States!  We were among Target, Costco, Children's Museums, and summer sports opportunities.  We could eat out anywhere and everywhere, and our families became closer than a Skype call away.  Most importantly, we could start the adoption process again.

We wanted to wait until we made our next move, to where Dustin would be completing his final 2 clinical years of medical school, but I still made phone calls and checked off the necessary boxes to make sure we could hit the ground running.  My sense of urgency had grown tremendously over the previous months, and I wasn't feeling the same sense of peace about not having a new little one in my life.  I knew family members were getting ready to grow their families, and Jackson seemed to be crying out to have a sibling as a companion.  My anxiety was building and the sleeping giant of my infertility was rearing its head.  I needed a baby, and I already knew from experience that adoption was a blessing of an option.

Of course, settled on adoption, heart and mind set in one direction, that is when I found out I was pregnant.  Having taken a pregnancy test, brought on by sore breasts and fatigue, I sat in the bathroom, elbows on knees and head in hands, crying over the positive result.  It felt miraculous.  I took Dustin to lunch and showed him the test afterwards.  And after a few exclamations, we drove home in awed silence, smiles on our faces.

I went right to the doctor, having an ultra sound and blood tests, and Dustin and I had conversation after conversation over his feeling of peace and my anxieties.  We told parents, and I planned in my head over and over again how I was going to make the big announcement.  I bought the book What to Expect for the 3rd time, subscribed to 2 or 3 different pregnancy websites, downloaded 2 pregnancy apps, got on progesterone, started popping prenatals, stopped caffeine, took a break from exercising because of the doctor's recommendation, and monitored every twitch or ache in my body.  I did all of this in the one week I was pregnant.  And by the following Monday I had blood work back that said I was miscarrying.

Since then I have felt slightly lost.  I struggle with the idea of faith because I can have faith in God's plan for me, but I don't have, or don't want to, have faith to get and stay pregnant.  What if I were to put all of my faith in that and it isn't meant to be?  I don't understand how it is supposed to work.  I don't understand why Dustin felt at peace.  I don't know if I will get pregnant again soon or in another 4 years.  I don't know if I should pursue adoption or work on my reasons for miscarrying.  And through it all I have a little boy who needs another little person in his life.  He is getting older and older and something is missing.  He may not feel it, but I feel it.  Our family is so incomplete, and the hole is only bigger because of the miscarriage.

Yet life calls, and we do swim lessons and play dates, laundry and work, dinners and bedtimes.  I am fine.  I laugh and joke and play and pray.  Mostly I just want all of this emotion that is boiling under the surface to go away.  I want to not ache when it is quiet.  I don't want to cry when I push myself too hard while working out.  I want the stupid weight I gained from the progesterone to disappear, and I want to stop waiting around everyday for this miscarriage, which I am waiting to take place naturally, to be done with.

So, I guess that is it.  I  finally felt settled enough to write this blog, so I guess that is a step in the right direction.  I have the most fabulous of husbands who took off precious time from studying to take care of me physically and emotionally.  I am surrounded by family.  And my sweet boy, who I think needs a sibling so desperately, needs me ever more, and I love that.  Hopefully I will get back to all the hopefulness this blog is supposed to be about soon :)

P.S. I love information, it makes me happy.  Feel free to share anything you have learned about your own miscarriages.  Research calms me and gives me somewhere to put my emotions.

P.P.S.  I want that shirt!