In an email to Julie earlier this week I wrote that this last pregnancy loss was a 'miscarriage conundrum'. And it really is. Somehow it is both easier and harder than my other two miscarriages, and all at the same time. It's the Amazing Miscarriage Conundrum! Step right up folks, for just a nickel you can see Jenn dance back and forth between two emotional extremes in response to her last pregnancy loss! Fun for the whole family!
In the easier column are various circumstances such as - I was not nearly as attached to this pregnancy as I was to the others, I knew things weren't looking good from that very first ultrasound, I wasn't able to gather up much hope regardless of ultrasound results, I'm still grieving Micah so much that I really didn't have much emotional energy to put towards this pregnancy, etc.
In the harder column are various circumstances such as - dude, three losses in a row sucks ass, a loss a few months after a full term stillbirth also sucks ass, the further death of hope - losing all of the little bits of hope I was able to scrape together for that pregnancy sucks ass, physically it was hard, possibly because my uterus was pissed I was doing this all again so soon, etc.
And then, here comes confession time - I know this is completely irrational and will sound terrible to some of you, but honestly I just can't help this - it's easier because I was expecting it, even before we got pregnant. Not because I'm all doom and gloom that we're never going to have another healthy baby (although sometimes I am), but because it seems to be our pattern.
Miscarriage. Full term pregnancy. Miscarriage. Full term pregnancy. Miscarriage.
It seems like maybe I needed that miscarriage to get me to a full term pregnancy.
Goodness, I hope it doesn't sound like I was just using little ol' Alex to further my goals of another child, as if he was some kind of throw away pregnancy. Not at all. I wanted him so badly I can't even express it. I would have given anything for him to come home with us, alive and well.
But he didn't and I can't help but think that next time around we'll get our take home baby. Please God, next time let us get a take home baby. PLEASE.
I guess this serves to not only convince you that I am indeed crazy but also serves as notifying all of you of our intent to try to conceive again. I know you were waiting with bated breath for this announcement and now that it's been announced you can return to your regularly scheduled programming.
So things have changed. Before this pregnancy I wasn't sure I had it in me to try again. Now I'm not sure I have it in me to not try again. If we didn't try again I'm afraid I'd forever be wondering if I missed my chance, if the next pregnancy would have been my full term pregnancy with a beautiful, healthy, living child at the end.
With that in mind, once my beloved period shows up (come soon! come soon! I'll give you cookies...) I will schedule the saline infused ultrasound and dutifully go have my uterus filled with salt water while we scour the insides of it looking for treasure (or polyps or fibroids or really, who knows what we'll find in there?) and then, well, it's on. I'm already taking my vitex, bought a shiny new thermometer to use each morning upon waking, and even bought new underwear with which to lure the hubby into my clutches.
Please, goodness, please nobody tell me that it may not work out next time. I know that's a possibility and I don't want to hear about it. My fingers are in my ears and I'm singing very loudly.