38 weeks

So the tracker I have been using for this blog conveniently stops at 37 weeks - thankfully the amazing babysizer.com was there to help me out! I wish I had known about this site earlier, a lovely mix of the factual and the slightly odd :)

The day I thought would never come has arrived. In the next 24 hours our little girl will be in my arms - unbelievable. I've been completely overwhelmed and it is no exaggeration to say that my anxiety has been worse in the last two weeks than at almost any point in the pregnancy.

Christmas Eve saw us watching the carols and baby was wiggling around like crazy. I suddenly had a complete meltdown, imagining this was the last time I felt her move, and I could see the entire thing playing out in my head from the ambulance to the heart-rending wailing... it was just so vivid. It took me a while to calm down and hubby was amazingly supportive. Part of what upset me so much in the end was that I could imagine losing our little one so easily, and so vividly, but I can't keep a clear picture in my mind of her being here with us.  He then decided that maybe there were too many babies on the carols and a dose of Die Hard was what we needed to get through Christmas Eve.

We ended up awake well into Christmas Day and hubby took some lovely pictures of me and the bump in front of the tree, her first Christmas as he said and he wanted to have photos to remember it.

A few more appointments helped the time pass and hearing her tiny heart pounding away during the CTG was enough to keep me going.

Then New Year's Eve. In talking about this last night I'm not surprised that the two big dates set me off. After all, we are missing our babies that could have been with us, and trying to focus on the one who IS with us - it's all a bit overwhelming really. Hubby said some lovely things about having our little girl with us to celebrate the New Year and gave both of us a kiss which set of tears of a completely different kind.

The bags are packed, the house is ready and now we wait. We have a quiet night planned tonight, before our world completely changes tomorrow.  Thank you to everyone who has followed and supported me on this journey through this blog, it has meant a lot to me.

I'll be back soon to post about the next chapter in our journey xx

27 Weeks

Some of these vegetable sizes really don't mean anything to me! I know how big a cauliflower is, I also know that my baby is bigger than that!

I hadn't realised that a month had passed since my last post. It has been a tricky month. Four weeks between scans, and I made it to the end without too much panic. We have also gone through a few painful anniversaries and the observance of Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Day and the Wave of Light. All of these events have brought their own painful memories and reminders that there aren't really a lot of people standing with us in our loss.

Well, perhaps that isn't fair. I know everyone has such busy lives and troubles and concerns of their own. I know that I also haven't been the most supportive friend in the last couple of years as I have struggled just to hold myself together, much less be a support to anyone else.  And I haven't directly reached out for help so I suppose I can't expect too much. At the same time, on October 15th, my feed was flooded with images of people lighting candles in honour of their nieces, nephews, grandchildren and children of their friends. I received one message of a lighted candle and it honestly almost made me feel worse, as though the person was ashamed to post it publicly. Probably the ramblings of a grieving yet hormonal pregnant woman!

We are also coming up to the due date of the little one we lost at the beginning of the year. In truth, knowing we were looking at a 38 week arrival at the latest, we would already have that little bundle in our arms. Still can't get my head around the fact that if that baby had survived I wouldn't be carrying the little girl I am so in love with now. I just avoid thinking about it too much, because I don't think it is something that will ever make sense.

Our little girl is doing wonderfully. We had our 28 week scan yesterday and everything was perfect. She's measuring long, but not too big at the moment, which is a blessing considering my gestational diabetes. We even saw her perfect little face on a brief 3D scan, and she gave us a little smile. She's super active and feeling all those little kicks and rolls is such a wondrous feeling.

I am also doing better than I was a few weeks ago. Not working is doing wonders for my back and nerve pain in my leg, as is twice weekly hydrotherapy. Baby seems to love the sensation of being in the pool, she's been extra active the last few visits. I'm also finally able to drop my midday progesterone dose (yay!) as my last reading was over 100, which everyone was thrilled with. Will monitor again in two weeks and go from there.

Hospital follow up to the scan is on Friday, they've asked me to bring in all my scans from my back to make a firm decision about delivery, so I should have a better idea of what to expect by then.

Thanks to those who checked in on me between posts, it is really lovely to know there are people looking our for out little girl x

11 Weeks

11w1d...amazing.

I am still not convinced that the scan tomorrow will go well and I am getting a little tired of people (GP and hubby) trying to calm me. I don't really need reassurances, I need to be allowed to explain how I am feeling and what I am thinking.

I also feel a little like my anxiety is just being explained away as a result of our past losses, rather than being offered any help or ideas for how to cope with it. I tried to explain to my GP yesterday that I was having trouble sleeping and that I just can't imagine that everything will be ok tomorrow, and she just said, "Well, you know that from past experience."

This is once huge area where I feel I've been let down repeatedly. My first GP who knew I had a history of depression didn't even mention anything after our first loss. After our second I had to ask her about seeing someone. Our new GP seems to think that because I can talk about it, I can handle it. Even when we were sitting in the hospital this year, just having found out that our baby had no heartbeat and being asked how we wanted to proceed, no one even offered us a piece of paper with support services listed, and how hard could that be?

I keep trying to tell myself that everything seems to be going well. I have had no real cramping and no spotting or bleeding. When I say no real cramping, I have had some weird stretching/pressure pains low down in my pelvis and from what I could explain my physio seems to think that it's pelvic girdle pain. I have still been feeling super tired, partly from not sleeping well and also because I haven't had my normal mid-afternoon nap the last couple of days - to try and help me sleep at night! My always low level nausea flared up for a couple of days but has died right down again, as long as I eat at least something small every couple of hours I am ok. My skin is going dry, something I have never had in all my life. Other than that I am increasingly forgetful (I put it down to fatigue) and emotional. The last ridiculous thing I got teary over was an old episode of Stargate!

I just want to stop analyzing everything but I also know that this isn't likely. I'll go to the scan tomorrow and if everything is fine, I'll be ok for a couple of days and then I'll start worrying about what we'll see on the next scan.

When the numbers don't add up

I have had three tests so far to measure my progesterone.

The first was at 4w5d and was 16.8.

The second was 6w and was 27.7

The third was at 8w1d and was 39.

Or so we thought.

- - -

On Friday night I received an urgent message from my doctor, who just a couple of hours earlier had told me how good my progesterone was looking. Apparently, she had been reading the numbers wrong, using the wrong units as she put it, and my numbers were actually low.

In a blind panic, I picked hubby up from work and raced to the clinic to see the genetic councilor who had noted the incorrect number and had written my a prescription for progesterone pessaries. They promised to wait behind for us to arrive.

All the fears of the day and the stresses about this pregnancy that I had been trying to hide come flooding out. I had been having cramps on and off for a couple of days, maybe we were too late?

As a reassurance, they offered us a scan then and there. They tried an abdominal scan but my bladder wasn't full enough to give a clear picture. We saw baby, but nothing was clear. I looked for that little flicker but saw nothing. Bladder emptied, we tried an internal scan and there, almost at once, baby's little heart flickered on the screen. Measuring high, I thought, at 180bpm but most certainly there and measuring perfectly.

They're convinced that we caught it in time, as my levels were still rising, just slowly and lower than they would like. Turns out my numbers were actually 5.8, 8.65 and 12.18. I'll be visiting the doctor on Wednesday to find out what happens next as I think they want to do weekly monitoring of my levels and have me on the pessaries until 14 weeks.

Typically, the terrible bloating that I have had for the last couple of weeks has also died down over the weekend, making me feel as though my 'bump' is gone, just another reason to stress but I am trying to keep my anxiety under control.

Let's hope that a completely avoidable medical mistake hasn't cost us our little one.

A Whole New World

I have never seen a line like this in my life. Any thoughts that I was late due to the after effects of the last miscarriage or left over hormones flew right out the window! I am pregnant, again! I am currently 8w6d and further than I have ever been before.

We visited the doctor for blood tests to confirm, on my birthday. What an amazing but terrifying gift! My hcg was high and progesterone looked great (more on that next time). We decided, due to the horrible stress surrounding our last pregnancy, that we would treat this one as 'normal' as possible, until something indicated otherwise.

A follow up blood test showed my hcg was higher than I'd ever seen it (22 000!) and progesterone was still rising. I've had no spotting at all this pregnancy and after I reached 6 weeks I even stopped wearing a pad to work "just in case."

We booked in for our first scan just before 8 weeks, on hubby's birthday. I was sure we were jinxing ourselves, afterall, we had never made it past 7 1/2 weeks before, did we really want that kind of news on a birthday? Everything went perfectly. Baby was in the right place, measuring exactly the right size (based on when I thought I had ovulated due to my pains at the time) and with a gorgeous little heartbeat. Bliss. The sonographer took her time, explained everything we were seeing and recorded the scan for us to take home, even giving us a few photos. Something normal for others I suppose, but nothing like we had ever experienced in 4 scans at the hospital during our last pregnancy.

We are currently booked in for our 12 week scan and NIPS on the 6th of July and I have the paperwork for my combined first trimester screening for next week at 10 weeks. It's all new and very scary but so far things are looking positive.

Here's to seeing what comes next!

Outlander - "Faith"

I haven't really written here before about the types of things I spend my time doing that aren't related to TTC or PAL. I guess all of that is so very personal and huge that everything else seems kind of petty and insignificant. This time, the two have overlapped.

For the longest time, I have loved the Outlander books (although when I picked up the first book in the series while I was at uni it was called "Cross Stitch" which I always thought was strange as that title has nothing to do with the book!). I have read all of them multiple times, except the 8th and most recent in the series which I have only read once.

The second book in the series if full of heartache and loss for Jamie and Claire (the main characters) and one part that always stood out to me was the description of the still birth of their first daughter, Faith, and the way in which the both individually grieve this loss. Claire had believed she was unable to have children and then her first pregnancy ended in such heartache.

The last few years, having experienced pregnancy loss myself, I was in equal parts anticipating and dreading this part in the stunning TV adaptation. In the lead up to Season 2 I remember saying to hubby that if they somehow cut this part out I would stop watching, even though I adore the series almost as much as the books. It just wouldn't feel right, and would further buy in to the taboo surrounding pregnancy and infant loss.

Last week's episode showed the lead up to their loss, Claire bleeding and then hemorrhaging before waking up and screaming "Where is my baby?" and even that had me in floods of tears and hubby comforting me saying how awful it all is and that it'll be hard on me to watch and maybe I should wait. He's not usually one for needless hugs but last week he just kept holding me and I was so grateful.

This week's episode is called "Faith" and I guess follows the loss of their daughter and everything that follows on from that (having read the book over and over I have a fair idea!) but I know it will still be hard. But I am also glad, because maybe it will do a little to help people who have never experienced this to understand a little of what impact such as loss can have.

At least, that was my hope, until reading on the official Facebook page this morning and looking at some of the comments. Most tragically, someone had written that they hoped this part would be written out of the series because it was hard to read so would be harder to watch. All I could think was, imagine how hard it is to live! Why should this type of pain and loss be edited out of life, out of books or TV because it is hard for people to witness? Isn't that what causes so much of the taboo around pregnancy and infant loss in the first place? Being scared of how others will react?

I will watch, I will cry and I will be happy that these writers had the courage to address such a heart wrenching but significant part of so many of our stories.

In need of a miracle

We're really in need of one of those miracles we hear so much about.

After being on bed rest of the week, and noticing that my spotting had stopped and my symptoms were 'developing' (read every growing boobs, gas production off the charts, etc) we arrived at yesterday's scan with just a little optimism.

We waited an hour before being brought in, not to the scanning room but to the fetal monitoring section. When they asked how far along I was and I replied 8 and a half weeks, the midwife scurried off, only to return and tell me to wait outside again for the specialist.

After another hour (and overhearing a conversation about why I was here and how they were supposed to prepare the room for us - and the midwife in charge having plainly no idea what they were talking about) the specialist whizzed past and told me to come in to the room with him. Unfortunately, there was already someone in the bed. Who he promptly moved out and got ready for my scan.

The abdominal scan wasn't very clear (having been holding for more than 3 hours at this stage!) and so he wanted to do another internal. Then he couldn't find the probe, or the cover, so after yelling at someone and telling us that 'everything has gone to pot' as the two head midwives were away, he just put a rubber glove over the probe and went from there. Then remembered to tell me to go and empty my bladder. It was absolutely surreal and I just felt like it must be a dream. I mean, we knew they were bad, but not this bad, surely?!

Unfortunately things just got worse. He had such a hard time finding baby, and then when he did, he couldn't get a good view. Then he told us that he couldn't find a fetal heartbeat. He asked for my wrist as he was seeing something, but thought it was just my heartbeat. He said the two pulses matched. He then measured and said baby was measuring exactly the same as last week and that the low fluid must have caused too much distress.

We were then told to change and think about our options in the waiting room, surrounded by heavily pregnant women. As soon as we had the chance to speak privately both hubby and I said we were convinced he'd made a mistake. Sure, we're probably in denial, but he's made this mistake before and everything was so rushed and poorly organised it just didn't seem real.

We were taken back in to speak with one of the consulting gynecologists who had been told we wanted a d&c. I told her we said no such thing and that we wanted to wait and see what happened. That I had already carried and lost my other babies and I didn't want this one to be any different. She then had to go and find out what the hospital procedure was for a 'natural' miscarriage!

After yet more waiting, we were told we could come back in a week and they would check on me, make sure I wasn't showing any signs of infection and they'd ask me again if I wanted medical intervention. If in the meantime I started bleeding through more than four pads in an hour, or was in severe pain, I should report to the ED, otherwise, see you next week.

It still seems so unreal. I have an appointment with my GP today and I am asking for another scan, somewhere else, just to confirm. Then we'll see what happens next.

Happy Easter little ones

This Easter has brought so many mixed emotions.

We should have been celebrating a first birthday. We should have been celebrating a first Easter with three of our angels. It was also our first Easter without my grandfather.

Yet I spent most of the day focused on protecting the life of the little one I am carrying now. Part of me feels terribly guilty, but I also know that really, this little one is the only one I can still do something for. So for the first time in my life, I didn't go to church on Good Friday. I didn't go the the dawn service on Easter Sunday and I didn't have Easter lunch with my family. Instead, I stayed home, mostly on the bed, and nurtured the life inside me the best I know how.

People keep assuming I must be bored, but I'm lucky I guess in that I can always find something to occupy myself. My mornings are reading, I'm reading the second book of the Outlander series (again!) before the series begins in two weeks and I check all the news on my phone or tablet. Then I have been catching up on movies in the afternoon that I'd rather not subject hubby to! I have a nap, hubby's home and then the night flies by.

In between there are countless trips to the kitchen to refill my bottle and the resulting trips to the toilet, along with an increased appetite (yay!) and the resulting nausea.

My nerves are building as tomorrow's appointment draws closer. I really don't know what to expect. My spotting has all but stopped, but I don't know if that is a good thing. I'm just hoping that baby has a little more room to move and that everything is still going along.

Only tomorrow will tell.

Scans, heartbeats and bed rest

After our weekly scan on Tuesday, I am officially on bed rest. I've been told not to go to work and to spend at least 1.5 hours, 4 times a day in complete rest.

Our appointment this week was booked in correctly, for the first time, and we only waited about 10 minutes for the specialist. He still walked in and asked, 'Where are we up to?' I suppose this is normal, but how hard can it be to check your notes before you see a patient?

He had a little trouble finding baby and I was getting anxious, but then we saw that beautiful little flicker on the screen and I breathed a sigh of relief. He was able to measure the heart rate right away (166bpm) but found it difficult to get a good clear view of baby. Even still, he did a rough measurement (still not convinced of his accuracy) and said baby was measuring well. He didn't give us a number.

I mentioned that I was still spotting every day and he noted that there was a blood clot just below baby. He said this would either reabsorb or continue to bleed out and either was fine. That didn't worry him. What was worrying him was that my amniotic sac seemed to be all baby and all heart and very little fluid. This, he said, was not a good sign and although nothing can really be done at this early stage he ordered bed rest and increased fluid intake. Of course we checked Dr Google when we got home and this seems to be the only treatment for low amniotic fluid this early in pregnancy.

We actually had an ok week last week, but this has thrown everything into chaos again. I am now consumed with what the next scan will show and the helplessness of knowing that there is really very little we can do. The only glimmer of hope I am hanging on to is that his scanning technique is rubbish (as evidenced by our first horror scan), that he just couldn't get a good view of baby and that next week everything will be fine.

Once again, we wait.

We've got ourselves a fighter!

To get the best and most wonderful news out of the way first, our little baby is growing perfectly and we saw its tiny heartbeat for the first time. So amazing. Such a miracle.

Now to how we got there...

For the third week in a row the clinic messed up our appointment. This time they actually had us booked in (makes a change) but had us booked for the normal antenatal clinic, not the specialist early pregnancy clinic.

This meant not only sitting in a room full of hugely pregnant bellies not even knowing if our babe was still there (and lots of tears on my part due to the extreme anxiety of it all) but it also meant waiting three HOURS for an appointment that we should have waited no more than 30 minutes for.

When we were finally called in, the specialist asked what I was there for. I know they have so many patients to see, but considering that our last appointment with him lead to the week from hell it was a little hard to hear. I explained. He asked me how the week had been and I told him I'd had a little spotting on a couple of days and he just nodded his head as if confirming his diagnosis. I was shaking like a leaf by this stage. He then suggested we head over for the scan to 'confirm things' and go from there.

In the end we had to wait another 30 minutes or so and then the lovely midwife who we had seen two weeks ago came to see how we were doing. She asked us to fill her in on all that had happened and was very understanding. Then the specialist flew in, poked around with the probe causing quite a lot of pain, looked at the monitor and said 'fetal heart.' He turned the screen around and there for the first time we saw our little baby and the oh so tiny flicker of it's rapidly beating heart. I must have let out a terrible sound, I know I was sobbing like mad, because the midwife came running back in, then looked at the screen and grabbed my knee and said something encouraging. I have no idea, all I remember was squeezing hubby's hand so tight, and seeing the enormous grin on his face, before turning back to the screen. I didn't take my eyes off it again until the scan was done.

Baby was measuring 6 weeks 3 days (according to the single measurement he did, still not convinced it was 100% accurate) which is about 2 or 3 days behind where I thought we were, SO much better than the two WEEKS behind we were told last week. The tiny little heart registered 123bmp.

Now we wait for next week. In the meantime, I have baby's first photo to stare at in amazement.

Cravings, anxiety, and the seventh week

Cravings:
My appetite is all but gone, in part due to nausea and in part anxiety. I try to make myself eat at least 3 times a day and I have only stopped a meal to be sick once (yay!), but other than that the thought of eating actually make me feel even more sick. I run though the list in my head of what's available and fight the nausea that comes with each suggestion.

I'm finding it pretty hard to eat anything cold, so all my lovely salad veggies are going to waste. Toast is ok, usually just with butter and vegemite, but is a once a day thing for me. I could eat chicken nuggets all day, that is the closest thing I have to an actual food craving, so I just make sure not to buy them.

Other than that, I'm craving ice.I have read that this is considered a form of pica but I'm choosing not to think of it that way! I have always liked crunching on the occasional glass of ice, now I just do it more often. It's also said to point to iron deficiency, which is possible, but my last results were fine and the prenatal vitamin I have been taking for the last 2 years has the full daily dose.

If chicken nuggets and ice are as far as these cravings go, I'll be happy!

Anxiety:
I know this wont go away any time soon, and I am trying to find ways to deal with it. It probably doesn't help that I am off work this week with a bad pain in my upper back, meaning I have a bit of extra time on my hands!

Following our scan earlier this week I am finding it a little harder to keep at bay. I know that if things are not progressing as normal, blighted ovum is the most likely explanation. That's really difficult. How do I bond with a baby that might not be there? Especially when trying to bond with a baby I might lose is already hard enough?

I also had a little spotting following the internal ultrasound, which is normal, but still had me waiting for it to stop. I'm still running to the toilet to check for spotting or bleeding, but I am getting better at stretching out the times in between.

I still find it incredibly hard to even think about telling people I am pregnant. On the one hand, I don't want to be congratulated on a pregnancy that might not last. On the other, I want this baby to be acknowledged. We have only told immediate family, one very special friend, and (unfortunately) our bosses. I keep thinking to the next milestone, e.g. if I make it to the next scan then I might tell... Afterall, there are people who will need to know if something goes wrong, and I hate having to tell people that I have miscarried before they even know I am pregnant.

In the meantime, I have 4 days to wait until our next scan. I am filled with so much dread at the thought, not only of seeing that baby hasn't grown, but at having to deal with that doctor again. I rang the hospital to ask if I could be seen by another doctor, apparently he's the only specialist there in this area. The clinic manager did say that she wants me to stop in after our appointment and if I am still not happy she is going to refer me to the Royal Women's, so that's something to think about.

Now, to distract myself on instagram for a while...

Another day on the rollercoaster

Today we had our first scan.

After confirming an intrauterine pregnancy (yay!) and a gestational sac, we were then told that the sac was only measuring 4w3d and that based on my dates (which were never discussed) was probably a missed miscarriage.

Devastated doesn't even begin to cover it. I was told to come back in a week if there had been no bleeding for another scan and to discuss 'options.' I had to practically beg the midwife for an hcg test. At least if the numbers were going down I would know what was coming. She agreed, and we left the hospital fearing that our little one was gone.

In the next few hours, waiting for her to call with the results, I learned some interesting things.

Firstly, the size of the gestational sac is supposed to be based on an average of three measurements from different angles. He only took one. It can also be affected by positioning of the uterus, etc. I know from previous scans that my uterus is tipped backwards. To get correct measurements with a tipped uterus can take some doing. My scan lasted only a matter of one or two minutes, so I can't say how thorough it was.

Secondly, 6.3mm is in the range for 5 weeks, not 4, which is still a little behind where I thought I was but could be attributed to late ovulation and implantation.

I was starting to have a little hope, but knew that it would rest on the hcg levels. My result came back at 3700 and the midwife was really happy. I can't tell you the relief, but also the anger that I felt for putting us through that this morning.

I know we are not out of the woods. My levels are doubling just less than the recommended time (but still going up!) and baby is measuring small... but still there! She has recommended me not to take another hcg test in the meantime as different labs can give different results and she doesn't want me worried for nothing.

So we wait another week on the rollercoaster and maybe next week will bring us more good news. We know that a blighted ovum is still a possibility, but we're choosing to hope that the next scan will show us our growing baby.

Fifth time's the charm?

Yes, after almost 10 months of failure and heartbreak, I am pregnant again! That's one of the reasons it's been a little quiet on the blog lately, the other is everything that goes with buying and moving in to a new house (more on that another time).

I probably should have seen this one coming, but I really didn't. Everything had been going so well, I was enjoying our new little village and walking down to the shops or post office each day, then suddenly, I had zero energy. Even the thought of walking 5 minutes made me feel tired! I just put it down to being run down as I also had a bit of a stuffy nose and a cold sore. Why did I not see this as a huge red flag?! The last time I had a cold sore I was pregnant!

A few days later, the three ladies from school who all had their babies at the end of last year came to visit. It was pretty hard, but I said my hellos and went back to my office for a bit of a cry. I was texting hubby about it and he asked, "Have you checked yourself?" I realised that I was a couple of days late, but just thought it was the metformin messing me around again.

I couldn't get his words out of my head and when I got home, I tested and was greeted with that lovely sight above, Pregant 1-2! I have to be completely honest and say that my first reaction was one of absolute terror. I find it so hard to imagine having a healthy pregnancy and knowing that there is really not all that much I can do about it. I was a nervous ball of energy for the next 30 minutes it took hubby to get home and share the news.

One of the possibilities my specialist wanted to rule out was low progesterone, so I went and had a hcg and serum progesterone test. Then I had to wait for the results. Every pain or pressure felt a thousand times worse and I was sure it was cramps on their way, but so far nothing. No cramping, no spotting, just incredibly sore breasts and nipples, nausea all day and very little appetite.

My progesterone was 55, which I have been told is really high (then I worry about if there is such a thing as too high?) and my hcg at 5w4d was 937. That is the highest number I have ever seen, even though I know it is not particularly high.

Today, at 5w6d my hcg is 1530. Not quite doubled in 48 hrs (tracking more like 60) but once numbers are over 1200 apparently between 72 and 96 hours is normal and as long as they are going up it's good.

We have our first scan next week, at 6w4d. I still break out in a cold sweat thinking of not hearing a heartbeat, etc but trying to be positive. I also guess we'll find out a due date and if my dates are a little out due to late ovulation and I'm not quite as far along as I think.

If I can make it to the scan, it'll be the longest any of my babies has stayed with me. That IS something to look forward to.

Why don't you say what you really mean?

This isn't going to be one of those happy, uplifting or inspirational posts you read about those who have suffered miscarriage. It's about the judgmental, heartbreaking and guilt laden conversations that surround this subject.

I've been told not to take the careless things that people say when I tell them about our miscarriages to heart. After all, I have been told, they're just trying to make the best of an awkward situation, no one really knows what to say. Basically, I have been told more than once, I shouldn't make them feel bad, because at least they are trying.

How about you just think before you speak?

People who suffer miscarriage need love and support, not meaningless platitudes meant to make you feel better because you have to break the awkwardness by saying SOMETHING or in the worst case, saying nothing. After living this awful reality for the past 12 months, here's some things I would like to never hear again.

At least you get to keep trying!

There is nothing fun, romantic or even remotely sexy about having intercourse precisely timed to coincide with fertile windows and ovulation predictor kits. And when you have been trying for months, if not years, on end, it can be hard to remember that there are reasons for sex besides conception. Sure we make a little whoopie outside that ever looming fertile window, but there is no escaping the fact that when the time comes around you really do know that you are 'trying' and it's nothing to look forward to. After all, all that 'trying' has currently only led to failure or to heart ache.

At least you (can) have more kids

There is no way any child we may be blessed enough to welcome in to this world will ever be a replacement for those we have lost. For those who suffer miscarriage and have older living children, it's equally wrong to tell them that they should be satisfied with their living children, “At least you have the older one.”

They're in a better place now

You can't tell me that there is a better place for a child to be than in their mother and father's loving arms. Which leads me to my next point...

Everything happens for a reason/is part of God's plan

You might truly believe this. The person you are saying it to might even believe it. But right at this point, at this time, this is not helpful or healing. It's the equivalent of saying that God wants them to suffer. After all, they are suffering incredible heartache and you are telling them it's God's plan

God never gives us more than we can bear

So the pay off to being a relatively independent, strong willed woman is that I have to suffer miscarriages because I can bear the pain and heart ache? Or are you saying something worse, that I couldn't handle being a mother so God has put a stop to it?

Maybe God is trying to teach you something

I've heard this a lot. Maybe God is trying to teach me patience. Maybe God is trying to teach me resilience. Maybe God is trying to teach me a whole myriad of things. Even if this is true, how does telling me this help? Does it make our loss less painful? Does it bring our baby back?

There must have been something wrong with the baby

Logically, we know this is true. We even heard it from the doctors. We know (now) the statistics about miscarriage. But this doesn't help. Once you find out that you are pregnant, your whole world changes. You begin to imagine a life full of possibilities for this child and what this will mean for you and your family. I have though about holding my babies in my arms for so long, don't make me think of them in pain or suffering. Please.

At least it was early

In a place where a woman has the right to an abortion until 24 weeks gestation, there are many people who think that a pregnancy lost in the first trimester 'isn't really a baby' or that there is no way anyone could have formed an attachment to an unborn child. Wrong on both counts.

You wouldn't have even known you were pregnant years ago

I probably would have, you know. Just because, as you put it, tests these days are so sensitive, doesn't mean that I wouldn't have noticed my usual 31 clockwork cycle was out by a few weeks. Doesn't mean that I wouldn't have noticed any of the other physical symptoms that go along with early pregnancy. What are you really trying to say, that even if I was pregnant, it would be better if I hadn't known about it?

It's not your fault

Again, I know this is true, but that still doesn't change the feelings of guilt or failure that I might feel knowing that my body couldn't do the thing that so many women seem to be able to manage without trying. By telling me not to feel guilty, that it isn't my fault, you shut down the conversation and take away my chance to talk about these feelings.

Lots of people have miscarriages

Yeah they do. Lots of people lose their parents and their children to, but I have yet to hear anyone tell a grieving relative at the graveside that a lot of people die. So why try to minimise or explain away the loss of an unborn child?

The risk goes up as you get older

Thanks for that. I didn't know. I mean, in all the 18 months of trying to start a family, all the medical tests, not one doctor had ever mentioned that age was a factor. So thank you for adding yet another layer to the guilt that I feel.

You just have to relax/don't stress

Sure. I'll just flip that “Stress Switch”to the off position, shall I? I do as much as I can to make sure we have a happy, healthy and relatively stress free home life, but if you are telling me that stress is causing my miscarriages, or is the reason it's taking longer to conceive between each one, then thank you for that extra layer of guilt you have just added.

You'll have kids one day

You mean I will have kids here with me on earth. After all, I have children, my angle babies. But you're talking about 'take home babies'. Maybe. You don't know that. I don't know that. In fact, after multiple miscarriages, the odds are quickly going down. Add to that my increasing age and even daring to hope to have a precious child in my arms seems too optimistic.

It'll be your turn next

I have heard this. And in that time, five others close to me have fallen pregnant. You have no way of knowing who will be 'next' and that kind of false optimism, wishful thinking, doesn't change the fact that it should have been my turn now.

You could always adopt

Why didn't you adopt? Because you want to create new life with your partner? Because you want to experience pregnancy for yourself? Why should I be denied that experience? Yes, the consequences are tough, but there is a reward at the end that we are not willing to give up on yet. The road to adoption isn't so easy either.

You can have mine!

Right up there with hearing people complain about how terrible their children or their spouses are. You are so blessed. Sure, people should be allowed to vent, but just think before you open your mouth. This is right up there with telling me that at least I am an Aunty, or that I can babysit their kid any time. As if that is ever going to be a substitute for the children we have lost.

Make the most of it, sleep in, go out, etc

You can reel off a list longer than your arm of all the things that are so great about being child-free, but the fact is, I am 37. We have been married for 6 years. We have done all these things, and intend to keep doing them in the meantime, but would you seriously trade in your own child for a few hours sleep? Why should we have to settle for dinner in a fancy restaurant rather than dinner in a home filled with the noise, laughter and love of a growing family?

How are you feeling?

This question, and it's horrible twin, “Are you feeling better yet?” are asked a multitude of times, and some people are able to accept my honest answer. At the same time, it does get tiresome to be constantly telling people that you're having a rough day, that you haven’t got dressed today or out of bed, and to know that they are thinking how much time has passed and that you really should snap out of it. And in a way, it feels like betrayal, to say I feel ok feels like saying I am ok with the fact that my babies have died. And I'm really not.

Don't think that talking to someone about their miscarriages is going to upset them. Sure, they might get upset, but they think about their babies all the time, whether you talk about them or not. Only two people have ever asked me if we gave our babies names. Did I cry? Yes. Did it lead to a wonderful conversation about choosing names? Sure did. And if you don't know what to say, and you have to fill that silence so that YOU feel better, try this...

"I can't even imagine how hard this must be. I am here if you ever need to talk. "

Pregnancy announcements (where's the nearest hole, so I may hide?)

I had a feeling my team leader was pregnant, something about the absences and the explanations she gave to others. And the little wink to me after she told someone she wasn't eating properly.

She confirmed this a couple of weeks later, saying she wanted to tell me in private before any announcement was made at work. She's been so good in that regard, and I thanked her. We had a hug, a cry, swapped early pregnancy stories and then that was it. I said I wouldn't ask her anything, but I was happy for her to talk with me if she needed to.

I also had a feeling the other teacher was pregnant. I can't say exactly why, although I did see a hushed conversation between the two of them which may have tipped me off. Turns out they are due 2 days apart.

There's also another teacher I feel sure is pregnant. She's eating differently, has been away a couple of days recently and, more to the point, has been avoiding me like the plague. Which is odd as she is my closest friend at work. So it's either that she doesn't want to tell me something she fears will upset me, or she's doing that thing of avoiding the lady who loses all her babies in case the bad luck rubs off on her. Either way, this one is probably the most hurtful. She didn't even come to ask me how I was feeling after the others announced their pregnancies at a school function and I was visibly upset  (which I hated, but I'm getting used to!) I think that is my biggest clue so far. We'll see.

The day they announced was horrendous. I knew it was coming as my team leader warned me. She said they'd try to do it at a break time so I could slip away for a moment. The whole teaching team would be at an off site professional learning activity, and I told her thank you for thinking of me. I just wanted people to focus on her news, not my reaction to it. In the end, the Principal made the announcement right at the beginning of the day. The Assistant Principal came to warn me, but had the nerve to say that I shouldn't be too upset as 'everyone knows you're trying'. Not everyone knows that we have been successful four times, I wanted to scream back at her, but just forced some kind of smile to my lips.

Only the office manager came right to me after the announcement was made, looking for a tissue. She kept an eye on me all day which was lovely. Support from an unexpected source, when as I said, my closest friend at school didn't even ask once if I was doing ok.

I cried on and off for the next half hour or so. I just wanted to be anywhere but there. I don't think it's jealousy as I am genuinely happy for these two beautiful ladies and their partners. I think it is anger for myself and for my babies that they were never acknowledged for celebrated in the same way. The only thing worse was lunch, where I had to hear all the questions about tests and scans and food aversions and so on. Again, it was lovely to hear about their experiences, but it was as though I was being deliberately excluded from a club I am very much a part of. Two things made it worse.

One was hearing that at least they were young and things should go well, and that they should be happy they weren't over 35. Unbelievable. Can you not see me sitting right here? Are you saying my losses are my own fault because I left it too late to try to start my family?

The second thing was hearing a mother of 3 saying that she got drunk and ate all sorts of food she 'shouldn't have' the week before her first was born as 'what could go wrong now?' Do you have no idea of the number of still births and babies who dies in the days after they are born? How can you be so blasé?

This past Tuesday was the worst of all. My team leader had been for her 12 week scan the week before and was getting all her results and had announced her pregnancy on Facebook the night before. She came in to work positively beaming and I was so happy for her. But when she started talking about how all her immunisations were up to date and her vitamin levels and so on, I had to go find some other work to do. I couldn't sit there and listen to it. She hadn't been for any preconception appointments, hadn't had any blood tests, just naively went in and everything was working out fine. Pretty sure this one was pure jealousy. I felt like a terrible person but I just couldn't help it. How is this right? How is it fair? What more do we have to do?

The worst thing is this. If finding out a colleague is pregnant can make me feel like this, what will happen when it's a member of my family?

My first Mother's Day

How do you even approach Mother's Day when you have lost a child?

What do you say when someone asks you if you have any kids?

How do you react when there are people in your life who don't see you as a mother?

These are things I had never even considered until last year.

One thing I am doing is making sure I talk about it, because there are so many women who live with this experience and face it alone. It's not much, but at least I can say something and hope that someone will hear.

I used to think I would never acknowledge Mother's Day until I had a baby in my arms. Even when I worked out dates with my second pregnancy and saw that I would be due just after Mother's Day. I though, "Oh well, I'll wait till the next year for my first Mother's Day." I'm also ashamed now to say that I felt the same way about Father's Day and didn't even acknowledge my husband as a father last year. In fact, the first time anyone called him "Dad"was the ultrasound tech who confirmed our second miscarriage. That still breaks my heart.

I feel much differently now. I know that I am a mother to babies I will never meet, and that my hubby is father to them. I know that as long as we acknowledge that, it really doesn't matter what other people think. I received messages on Mother's Day from four very special ladies and that meant the world to me. I had already told hubby I didn't want a fuss, just a hug and an acknowledgement of the day, and he was more than happy with that. I just hope that when the time comes people show him that same support.

I'm still stumped on the right way to answer "Do you have kids?'' I want to say yes, but I don't want to have to explain that none of them are living. So I say no. I guess it's because I don't want people thinking or even worse, saying, I am not really a mother.

As silly as it may sound, it was watching "The Fault in Our Stars" that really got me thinking about all this. There is one point when the main character overhears her mother saying that if her daughter dies she wont be a mum any more. She later confronts her and her mother replies that she will always be her mother, no matter what happens. That really stuck with me.

I will always be a mother to my angel babies. I hope one day I'll be able to say that to anyone who asks.

When is a negative not a negative?

Nothing is ever going to be straightforward for us in this process, that much is clear.

After my super faint BFP on Monday, which turned out the be the day AF was due (I should check my dates more carefully!) I had light spotting that night, twice. I was so terrified of losing another baby that I spent all day Tuesday in bed, and then Tuesday night more spotting.

We visited the doctor on Wednesday and went through "the Plan' I was concerned that she wasn't able to prescribe the progesterone to me as the specialist recommended and that the Early Pregnancy clinic, who could prescribe, didn't want to see me until a scan at 6wks. She sent me off for hcg and progesterone testing, and a couple of extra forms for follow-up tests if the spotting continued.

No more spotting all of Wednesday, but then this morning, about 6am, I woke to a huge amount of bleeding, lucky that I had (for some unknown reason) worn a pad to bed. Came back to bed to tell hubby the news and it's so heartbreaking to hear the devastation in his voice. "How many more times can we go through this?" he whispered. More bleeding over the next couple of hours and then... NOTHING.

I was expecting a call from the doctor with the results of my tests from yesterday, and hoping for good news. If the numbers were high, then maybe the bleeding was ok. She told me the hcg result was 2. 2!! Technically not pregnant. I asked her about the heavy, but limited bleeding. She admitted that it wasn't normal, but more than likely a miscarriage due to the blood work. She has advised that I go back for the next blood test anyway, just to confirm. Especially if there is no more bleeding.

So now I just wait. Wait for more bleeding, wait for a blood test, wait for the results.

I still 'feel' pregnant, but with an hcg result that low, I guess it's more psychological than physical. I spoke to my mum about this and just confused the situation even more. Apparently with my youngest sister she didn't get a positive test until she was almost 12 weeks! She had told them she was pregnant but due to bleeding at 4 and 8 weeks they didn't believe her. So this gives me hope. False hope maybe, but right now I'll take what I can get.

Scared, and that's all there is to it

I have been meaning to post for the last week or so, but life gets in the way.

First, I was going to post about our experience at the early miscarriage clinic and what the specialist plans to do for us.

Then I was going to post about being the crazy TTC lady who finds herself squeezing her boobs to see if they are really sore or not as she the end of the TWW.

Now, instead, I am posting about our latest BFP. This one is so new that even hubby doesn't know, as he's due home from work within the hour. All I have done is stare at the test, cry, make a doctors appointment for Wednesday, and go back to staring and crying.

Anyone who has been following our story probably knows that the reason I am scared is due to the prospect of another miscarriage. Although the specialist told us exactly what their plan for us is if I was to fall pregnant again, I haven't done any of the tests he recommended (I am booked in for a 3D uterus ultrasound next week) and so I feel that whatever has caused the last losses is still there, therefore I will probably lose this pregnancy too.

I should be happy, and I envy every woman who has ever gazed at those two pink lines and felt nothing but joy. Instead, I am scared. I'm even dreading telling hubby because I don't want him to feel the way I am feeling now.

I have a day to wait before I can get in to see the doctor. I have a day of stressing and waiting for the cramps that signal the arrival of AF. After that, who knows what will happen?

Pregnancy & Infant Loss Remembrance Day 2014

Pregnancy and infant loss. It’s not something I had ever talked about, let alone thought about. Sure, in my worst moments I thought that I would never be a mother; I still have those thoughts now but for entirely different reasons.

When I used to think such thoughts, it was more a philosophical reasoning. Maybe I would never find a man worthy of being a father. Maybe I would be off travelling the world and find that the time had passed.  I thought that miscarriage was something that happened to ‘other people’ after all, I had only ever known one woman to have a miscarriage and she had been told not to get pregnant due to medication she was taking at the time.

Now I am filled with fear about recurrent pregnancy loss and I feel like part of this was my total ignorance of miscarriage statistics. If I had known how common it was, and that no matter how painful, many early early miscarriages are due to the body’s natural detection of genetic abnormalities, I might not have struggled with guilt. The SANDS website (see link at the end of this post) says:

Each year in Australia, approximately 150,000 couples experience reproductive loss;

about 147,000 experience a miscarriage,

1,750 babies are stillborn

and about 850 babies die in the first 28 days after birth.

I can’t tell you the number of times I cried to my husband, apologising for killing his baby. I can’t tell you the number of times he held me and reassured me that there was nothing we could have done. He believed it because that’s what the doctor had told him. I found it hard to believe because if it was so common, how come no one I knew had gone through this?

My life is full of amazing women. Most of these have children. In fact, the only women I know who don’t have children are those who have told me straight out that they aren’t ready yet. My husband’s three siblings have welcomed 5 children in the last 5 years with another on the way. It seems that even within our own family we are the 1-in-4.

It hurts me now to realise that surely there are women who I count among my friends who have suffered through pregnancy loss alone. Why do we do this? Why do we allow our friends, sisters, cousins to suffer alone?

In my case, I know that one of the main reasons I didn’t want to tell people was because of a sense of guilt. That I was somehow defective because I couldn’t manage to keep my baby alive. I now know that that’s likely not the case. Another bigger reason was that I didn’t want to hear the crappy platitudes they would be likely to give.

“At least you know you CAN get pregnant.”

“You’ll be able to have fun trying again.”

“It must be part of God’s plan.”

“There was probably something wrong with the baby, so it’s better this way.”

And worse than that, I didn’t want to hear anything that turned the blame to me.

“You know older women have a higher chance of miscarriage, don’t you?”

“Do you think it’s because you are overweight?”

“Are you too stressed? You need to relax and focus on your baby.”

“Did you eat something you shouldn’t have?”

“You did give up alcohol, didn’t you?”

“Do you still let your husband smoke?”

I just wish that people would approach the loss of a child, no matter the time, like they would the death of any other family member or friend. I read on a miscarriage forum the other day that the only acceptable response when someone tells you they have had a miscarriage is, “I’m so sorry for your loss.”

I found a beautiful “Wish list” on the Bears of Hope website.

Wishes of An Angel's Mum & Dad

• I wish you would not be afraid to mention my baby. Just because you never saw him doesn't mean he doesn't deserve your recognition.
• I wish that if we did talk about my baby and I cried you didn't think it was because you have hurt me by mentioning him. I need to cry and talk about my baby with you, it helps me heal.
• I wish you could tell me you are sorry my baby has died and that you are thinking of me, it tells me you care.
• I wish you wouldn't think what has happened is one big bad memory for me. The memory of my baby, the love I feel for my baby and the dreams I had for him are all loving memories. Yes there are bad memories too, but please understand that it's not all like that.
• I wish you wouldn't judge me because I’m not acting the way you think I should be. Grief is a very personal thing and we’re all different people who deal with things differently.
• I wish you wouldn't think if I have a good day I'm ok or if I have a bad day I’m being unreasonable. There is no "normal" way for me to act.
• I wish you wouldn't expect me to “feel better” in a few weeks, months, or years for that matter. It may get easier with time but I will never be "over" this.
• I wish you could tell me you are thinking of me on my baby’s birthday, Mothers Day, celebration times and the day my baby died. These are all important and sad days for me.
• I wish you understood that losing my baby has changed me. I’m not the same person I was before and I’ll never be that person again. If you keep waiting for me to get back to "normal" you’ll stay frustrated. I am a new person with new thoughts, dreams, beliefs, and values. Please try to get to know the ‘new’ me, you might even still like me.

Author Unknown

The last point really resonates with me. As I wrote last week, I know that my heart has been changed. I am still trying to work out what that means.

So I was brave today. With my husband’s consent (because it’s not just about me) I posted about our loss on Facebook. I want people to know that I am a mother, even though I don’t have a baby here to hold. And I want the other women I know who have suffered in silence to know that they have a friend who is sharing this most horrible experience.

If you, or someone you know is struggling with pregnancy or infant loss, you might like to check out the following websites. There are many out there, I have found these ones really helpful.

http://www.pregnancylossaustralia.org.au/index02.php?id=42&pl=12  

http://www.bearsofhope.org.au/a/229.html

http://www.sands.org.au/

"Why?" isn't even important

I should have posted at least 4 updates since the last one. We were away on holiday but I was still writing, ready to post when we returned. I had a post about travelling with morning sickness and one about spotting in early pregnancy which I was reading a lot about. I also had one about my symptoms in week 6 and also the fact that my dad had totally guessed that I was pregnant due to the fact that I didn't drink the night we arrived!

Instead, I am posting about another miscarriage.

Looking back, a lot of little things probably add up to tell me that this was coming. My HCG levels were pretty low, only 38 at 14dpo and 111 by 5 weeks. Doubling every 2.4 days or a 77% increase in 48 hours. Still within the average, but on the low side.

Then there was the spotting. The first was at 16dpo, pink and watery and only twice when I wiped. Doctor reassured me that this was 'normal.' It started again the following week while on holiday, at 5w4d. This time dark brown, and only once and when I wiped. Then the next day, dark brown and only once when I wiped. The following day, dark brown but this time more often when I was wiping. By Friday, at 6 weeks I had a couple of red spots coming through. I panicked the whole way home on the plane, but when we got off - nothing.

Another thing I notice now was my symptoms starting to fade. I know that this can happen anyway and that they can come and go - but in this case I now know it's because they were well and truly going. From 5w4d onwards I no longer got up in the night to empty my bladder. I thought this was maybe because with all the travel I wasn't drinking enough (4 litres not enough?!). I was also able to sleep comfortably on my chest which for the previous week had been unbearable. I was still slightly nauseous, but at this stage I think it was more due to concern about what was happening to our little poppy seed, rather than hormones.

I'll post another day about what actually happened, and what has happened since; at the moment it's just too much to think about. All I can manage is a cold recount of the facts, and yet so much more than that was involved.

I feel completely broken, like I have been shattered into a thousand pieces and although in time I might collect them all up, I'll never be the same, I keep thinking of the activity we do with kids to teach them the power of bullying. You ask them to cut a piece of paper into the shape of a heart. Then you ask them to scrunch it up, that's the effect of bullying. You then ask the students to flatten out their paper heart, this represents a person apologising for their behaviour. The thing they notice is that no matter how much they flatten the paper, the marks remain. That's exactly how I feel right now. But my heart isn't flattened, it's still scrunched tightly into a horrible little ball.