While we were waiting to find out we were pregnant with Mason, there were a thousand and one reminders that I had had a miscarriage and wasn’t pregnant with Matthew’s best buddy. Not only that, but the fact that I lost baby after baby to miscarriage. Being able to turn off the world was next to impossible since I’d miss out on so much of my long-distance family and friends’ lives by not being on Facebook. But…
- Facebook had become my worst nightmare of picture after picture of pregnancy tests, baby bumps, and newborns.
- A friend announced her pregnancy on National Infertility and Infant Loss Day. The post was between two posts from other friends about their lost babies or prayers for those of us who have.
- People made incredibly insensitive comments around me constantly, like laughing about the fact that someone thought I was pregnant and having another baby again. Not only did that person hear it, but they felt the need to come tell me.
- Seeing someone in a group talking about how upset they were that they had been “trying for a few months unsuccessfully.” A few months is not trying unsuccessfully. Infertility is typically defined as over a year of trying every month or 3 consecutive losses. I’m sure trying for a couple of months is frustrating, but those of us who have tried for much longer, with several rounds of miscarriage, have a very hard time seeing posts like that.
- Having a friend post that 2% of women have 2 consecutive miscarriages and 1% have 3 consecutive miscarriages. I’ve had 2 before Matthew and 3 after (and now another miscarriage after Mason). I could have lived my whole life without knowing that makes me in the .05% or something ridiculous. I’ve now had 6 total losses. My grandparents are playing in Heaven with 75% of my pregnancies– 2/3 of my babies.
- Seeing an ad for a TV show that had a positive pregnancy test front and center.
- Being told to “stop testing so early.” I wait until I’m a full week late every time (which, for the record, is the opposite of testing early), and even if I didn’t, that doesn’t change the fact that I’ve lost babies. Not knowing I was having a miscarriage– that I lost them– would be even worse.
- Reading a section in Heaven is for Real about an incredible experience her son had with his sister. (If you haven’t read this book, you need to– it’ll make you cry happy tears and brought a lot of peace to my heart.)
I spent 20 minutes ugly crying in the car while Ryan drove around because after all of these things happened within the course of a week or two, I called the OB I wanted to see– and the only one I thought might be able to help us– in Austin, only to find out he couldn’t see me until November 24th (the day we were supposed to be moving to Oklahoma, almost 6 weeks after I made the call). It was the one last thing I needed.
By the time I was the age Matthew was, I had Bud. I had my future best friend, one of the girls I know I can come to with anything, who I know would do absolutely anything for me and my family. She’s the one who Matthew would go to if anything happened to us. We couldn’t ask for a better sister, aunt, or friend for the two of us. She gives amazing advice, the best hugs, and makes a mean lemon bar. I wanted that so unbelievably badly for Matthew. It broke my heart that he didn’t have that yet, and I was terrified that we’d wait too long, having miscarriage after miscarriage and trying for a baby when we could be working on an adoption.
It was my biggest struggle two and a half years ago, and to have the added layers of stress of getting out of the Air Force, moving, finding new jobs, new homes, new friends, new doctors, etc. starting to pile up, was just too much. None of this, however, meant that I didn’t want to hear my friends’ happy news. It tugged at my heart every time, but I wanted to be thrilled for them. I wouldn’t grow if I was never challenged, so please, continue to let me share your joy. I prayed constantly not only for a sibling for my sweet little boy (whether that be naturally or adoptive), but also for peace and the ability to look outside my own issues and difficulties and be happy for the joys in others’ lives.