Over the last week or so, I have been slowly but surely comin gout of the first trimester haze that I have been in.  I still need naps nearly everyday, but I haven't thrown up in a solid week!  My apatite has returned for the most part and I am only occasionally nauseated whereas it had been almost all day sickness.   Let me please clarify that none of those side effects bothered me really.  I mean, it was uncomfortable, but I loved the reassurance that baby was still cooking.  I think there is something unique about being pregnant after a loss(es).  We might be the only people that hope and pray for throwing up, and get concerned when we aren't nauseated by noon. 

Today, I had the somewhat awkward experience of seeing the RE I broke up with for my NT scan.  I think what was most awkward is that I wasn't sure how awkward it was going to be.  Turns out it wasn't a big deal but he did make a comment alluding to "If I needed to have some girl talk, I'd have to travel to the other office."  But really, not a huge deal.  I had way over prepared my potential responses if he happened to question my decision to switch doctors.

My preferred response was going to be: Well, I went to high school with P and when I first started seeing you, I don't think she was part of the practice yet.  Nothing personal! 

My second choice was: Well, Doc, you see I have been seeing you for recurrent miscarriages for over 4 years now.  After my loss last year, you told me there was no real reason for my losses and that you wouldn't do any further testing.  Then, after my chance appointments where I saw P rather than you, I mentioned my crappy lining that you performed an IUI on (which in my understanding is really almost like throwing my money into a blazing inferno) and with a simple med change she transformed my crappy lining into an ideal one.  When I asked her if having a thin lining could have *anything* to do with me having 8 early losses, she told me yes.  In a matter of 2 cycles of seeing her (only in your absence) she managed to get me pregnant and keep me pregnant.  A simple med change, Doc!  After 4 years and way to many miscarriages, you were content to just keep doing the same thing.  Then she managed to figure out what was wrong and fixed it in 6 weeks.  That, Doc, is why I switched to her. 

But again... I said neither.

He went about his business and did all of the measurements needed for the NT scan which is a tool to rule out Downs Syndrome.  The cut off after which they start to be concerned is .3 and mine was... .06 so... I am feeling pretty sure that this baby will not have DS.  I still need to get the results of the blood test component next week to be more confident in that, but today, baby looked healthy, vibrant, and measured great. 

Baby is actually measuring ahead by a couple of days.  He (or maybe she although my money is on boy) is already 6 centimeters long from the top of his head to his butt.
That is about this big (depending mostly on your screen settings):

Head                                                                      Butt
{------------------------------------------------------------}



I am so glad to be so close to the end of the first trimester!

I got 3 pictures and, while none were really excellent, this was the best one.  He does have arms and legs and feet and hands.  Here he looks a bit more like a gummy bear.


Now to decide how or if I will announce on facebook.  Many of my family members and some of my friends heard the news at the funeral last week so it won't be a shock to most, but it will be an admission that we are ready to acknowledge that this itty bitty human will be joining out family in September.

If you announced a pregnancy on facebook, how did you do it? If you are dealing with infertility or loss, is there anything you think I should do/not do to avoid hurting feelings?
 

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After my last appointment with Dr. M., my RE, I was prepared to fly to Chicago to meet with a new doctor who would be willing to test me for everything that may be contributing to my losses.  Dr M. said that he was fine with me going to see "Dr. Quack and Dr. Beer", nicknames he has given them based on the how their names are pronounced.  He wouldn't be willing to work with them, but he would be happy to continue working with me independent of them. Dr. M also told me that just because they prescribe a treatment and I carry to term doesn't really mean anything.  Odds are that I will carry to term again regardless of the treatment.  He even went as far as to say that he could tell me to eat Jolly Ranchers every day and maybe that would keep me pregnant.  To which my response was, "Really!  You think Jolly Ranchers would really work?"


After doing a ton of research I decided to try a couple of more natural approaches.  I started taking Maca right away which has been used to treat both infertility and miscarriages.  Who knew.  After as long as I have been trying to conceive and dealing with losses you would think I would have payed closer attention to the uses of Maca.


As I was reading this article, I discovered a supplement that I had never heard of before.  It is called Wobenzyme N.  Apparently it was designed to treat pain and inflammation but they have done several years of studies in women who have had recurrent miscarriages due to autoimmune issues.  In a group of 144 women who had recurrent losses due to immunological response to pregnancy, 79% carried to term when the women took this prior to and during pregnancy.  While I haven't technically been diagnosed with an autoimmune issue, I am feeling fairly certain that this is my issue.  I am thrilled with an 79% chance of staying pregnant.  This enzyme therapy may also beneficial for those with blocked tubes or other scar tissue that is causing fertility issues. 



I have been taking this supplement for a few weeks now.  The directions are to take it at least 45 minutes before a meal on an empty stomach which can be a little inconvenient for my schedule, but I am willing to do what I have to do!  I have had no adverse side effects since I started taking the Wobenzym and have actually had less aches and pains in my muscles and joints since I started.  Obviously I have no idea if this is going to be my "Jolly Rancher" or not, but having virtually eliminated my aches and pains is a decent trade off.   Now we wait and see if I can get and stay pregnant!

*Disclaimer- I was provided with Wobenzym N at no cost for my review.  All thoughts and opinions in this post are 100% my own. 

Today was the big day.  The day that was supposed to be about hearing a wonderful sound of a heartbeat, that was transformed into an appointment for answers.  Why can a perfectly healthy woman have 7 miscarriages?  The general tests told us nothing substantial.  The more extensive tests came back normal.  The diagnosis of "bad luck" isn't going to fly anymore.  Or is it?

I was so nervous for this appointment.  I think it was out of shear nervousness that I made time to put on make up, paint my fingernails, and put on earrings.  If you don't already know, I can do a weeks worth of laundry and not fold anything other than underwear, pajamas, yoga pants, and t-shirts.  Today, I was getting ready as if I was on my way to a job interview.  Okay.  Not a job interview for a position at a law firm, but a well regarded gas station. 

As I arrived at the office, I was relieved to see an empty waiting room.  I sat and at the same moment I got out my phone to check facebook, I was called back.  I was shocked when the took me to an exam room since it was just a consult and there was no need to get naked.  Thank goodness because I totally didn't shave my legs!  I waited in the not so comfy chair in the corner of the room that is intended for the husbands to squirm in as their expectant wife gets a pap smear.  I looked at my phone, did some facebook-ing, read a pamphlet and listened to the other exam room doors open and close. 

About 40 minutes later, in walks the white coats. 

My RE and a resident sidekick comes in the room and we get right right to the small talk.  Then, a deep breath and I show him the list of tests that I came across regarding recurrent losses.  I watched my doctor transform from a gentle practitioner to a very practical fact-based scientist.  The three of us hunched over the list of tests and my file and located 5-8 tests out of the 25-30 tests I was inquiring about.  Then, just as I fully expected, he explained that he could run the remaining tests but they would be expensive, and not exactly give me the answers I am so desiring.  Not to mention, he wouldn't treat me any differently even if the results told us something.  The bottom line is that there isn't any scientific, studied, or proven statistics that any of these immunological diagnoses cause miscarriages and even less proof regarding the treatments will work.

My doctor did agree that there was a time that doctors didn't know that they needed to wash their hands before surgery.  They didn't know what a germ even was!  So, there is no reason to believe that 100 years from now there will be people saying, "I can't believe that doctors back then still had to deal with recurrent miscarriages!  They had no idea that Natural Killer Cells needed to be sensitized!" 

So, what did I learn?  Not a lot.  I knew going in that these thing aren't exactly looked kindly upon by the majority of the medical community.  I knew that it was a long shot.

Where to go from here?  I haven't decided yet.  I still need to process everything and do a little more research.  My doctor did say that he is more than willing to continue treating me (not that he does much other than run betas and do ultrasounds) but will not monitor any meds or treatments recommended by any other doctors.  He compared it to someone who sees an acupuncturist.  He is all for it, but he isn't going to let an acupuncturist tell him how to make his patient ovulate.   I get it. 

I'll be honest.  I cried.  I couldn't hold it back.  I get it, but my heart still wants answers.  My heart wants me to find a solution even if it means trying something that isn't proven.  His response just made me cry a little more.  He explained, "We all want answers.  We all want to know why some things happen.  But sometimes there just aren't answers available.  Like, why does a perfectly beautiful child get cancer and die?  Sometimes there just aren't answers."

I don't know why this has gone so smoothly.  Can I blame it on being well practiced at grief?  I have been down this road so many times, I know where to stop and eat, which rest stops have the cleanest bathrooms, and I know which exits have a Starbucks. 

When I went to the doctor on Friday morning and he attempted to give us a grain of hope, I had to give him the look.  He knew what I meant.  He asked me with a coy raised eyebrow, "How are you so sure this is over?" 

"Maybe because I have done this exact thing 6 times before?!"

He nodded and said to us, "This sucks." 

Yes.  It does suck.  But I am healing.  Feeling better and better each day.  Less tears than the day before and even fewer tomorrow, I'm sure. 

I have poured myself into 2 things starting on Saturday.  The first is that I am going to take advantage of this opportunity to lose some weight.  I was doing really well right after Joey was born.  I was feeling good, getting more tone, and starting to be a little proud of my figure re-emerging from the baby fat.  Then when a few months of TTC turned into 20, I lost my enthusiasm for fitness and reconnected with my first loves, Ben and Jerry.  Since God decided that I wasn't going to be pregnant anymore, I have to turn this into a positive.  I am going to lose as much weight as I can before getting pregnant again.  I am not going to put TTC on hold, but I will be sweating like a pig until I'm pregnant again.  I have done 3 days in a row of 30 minutes on the elliptical machine.  I must say, I feel good!

The other think I have been doing to help me heal is that I have poured myself completely into getting to the bottom of this recurrent miscarriage crap.  This isn't normal.  Normal people don't have 7 miscarriages in a matter of 4 years with a full term pregnancy as part of those 4 years.  I don't mean this in a self accusing way but there simply must be something wrong with me.  Something has to be wrong.  I know that my OB and RE did all of the testing and most everything came back normal.  The things that came back as borderline didn't respond to the treatment that should have taken care of it.  It must be something else...

I have been reading and researching immunological causes for recurrent miscarriages.  I was ignored when I mentioned this during my first "batch" of losses but I am going to force my doctor to listen to me.  At least 3 of my losses I experienced a low grade fever during the "two week wait."  Taking my most recent pregnancy, right around the time of implantation, my temperature went up to 99 degrees for a full 24 hours.  I can't help but think that my body doesn't recognize a fertilized egg and fights it like a disease.  In the previous instances of this happening the pregnancy ended very early, like after only a few days of a positive test.  I think that maybe my taking the Welcome Womb may have allowed the baby to continue to fight back for a while but it wasn't enough to win the battle.  Completely all my theory, but if something like this is the case then there IS treatments available! 

I am ready to try again, but on the flip side, I am not sure I can handle more losses.  I have to get healthy again and get to the bottom of things.  The good news, it is really helping me forge ahead and have a positive view of the future! 

Tori at Matryoshka Mama must be one of very first blog followers.  Over the past 12 months, I have had the joy of getting to know her, and now, so do all of you!  Her journey in the past 2 years is one that takes such great strength, courage, and faith.  I am honored to know her.  I would be remiss if I didn't give you a little bit of warning.  This post includes tasteful photographs of her precious babies that were born too soon. Thank you, Tori, for sharing your sweet angels with us today.  

April 2010
I am pregnant again. My due date is January 15th., 2011. It took me about half a second to realize the irony of that date. I now was scared to death that I would yet again lose a baby. The last baby had died at 10 weeks gestation. I had started bleeding at 15 weeks. My new date to wait was 15 weeks. Only a small group of friends and family knew I was pregnant. I passed July 5th with trepidation. That was the last baby's due date. I was so relieved to be pregnant at that time to help me get past that date. My relief was short lived. I went in for my ob appt. I was 13wks pregnant. There wasn't a heartbeat. I refused to have a D&C. I waited at home to pass the baby. I HAD to hold my child. I lost him on the 25th of July. We were able to bury him under our Red Bud tree. I missed my appt. with my Rheumatologist. I had just delivered the baby. After a total of 15 weeks gestation.

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Original post date was 2/7/11
There was a time when I would go to a doctor when I had a health problem and I would just follow their instructions because, well, they are the doctors. They have letters after their name that is supposed to tell me that they know more than me, right? In the past few years I have changed my thinking on this.

I started charting my cycles when I wanted to conceive my first baby. Within a few weeks I really learned how amazing our bodies are and how much they really tell us on a day to day basis. When I got pregnant, I stopped charting (as anyone who charts will tell you to do once you get your positive pregnancy test) until a couple of months after I got my cycles back. Much to my surprise, I had another positive home pregnancy test with my first chart! When I went to the Emergency Room due to the spotting that had really turned more into bleeding, the doctor told me that I was 6 weeks pregnant. I told him that according to my ovulation, I should be about 6 weeks and 3 days. I know that measuring 3 days off on an early ultrasound is not cause for alarm but I thought it was worth mentioning. The doctor gave me a quick grin and told me that I couldn't really know when I ovulated. I told him that I had been charting and I did know when I ovulated according to my temperature, fertility signs, and ovulation pains that happen (for me) a couple of days leading up to my ovulation. He said, "Oh. Okay." in a way that clearly told me that he didn't believe me but wasn't going to debate it.

After my second loss I went in to see my doctor. I asked my OB about using Welcome Womb herbs to prevent miscarriage she dismissed my idea without further consideration. She did give me some line about how herbs aren't FDA regulated and therefore shouldn't be used since there haven't been studies (with government oversight) to determine what they actually do. So, her plan of action was going to be to run some tests when I got pregnant again, meaning beta hcg and progesterone. As most of you know, and I know now, running those tests doesn't keep anyone pregnant. The progesterone may be able to be improved if it is low but that wasn't going to tell me anything. Well, despite having doubling (just barely) hcg numbers and progesterone within normal limits, that pregnancy was lost as well.

After several more months of charts under my belt, and a couple more losses, I went to my OB armed with questions. I wanted to know why I was losing the pregnancies. This was the first time that when I wasn't satisfied with an answer, I continued to ask for more clarification, explanation, and information. After a few questions where my doctor couldn't answer to my satisfaction, she finally was willing to admit that she didn't know the answer. That was a major turning point in my relationship with my doctor. In a good way. Now, my doctor was nothing more that a woman a few years older than me who read some books in college that taught her what she knows. She and I just read different books. We began working together to figure out how to proceed. It was no longer me just nodding and wondering what I was going to do next. We were a team. A team that decided it was time to go to a specialist. A Reproductive Endocrinologist. With a name like that, I had to get some answers!

Well, I didn't. But again, I asked my questions and didn't stop until I was satisfied with his answers. I like Dr. Mooney, a lot, because he really took his time to talk, explain, and clarify and didn't seem to get a bruised ego if I questioned his opinions. Again, I developed a great relationship with my doctor because I refused to think of him as anything other than a guy who read different books than me.

I don't want anyone to think that I am not appreciative of doctors. I have a lot of respect for them since, I am sure, medical school isn't a piece of cake. I just wish that more people could recognize that doctors, while highly educated and skilled, are really just people. They lose their car keys, misplace their television remote, and burn dinner. They probably have cried themselves to sleep once. They have probably been an a car accident that was their own fault. I remind myself of this every time I walk into a doctor's office. I can't be intimidated by them and I can't assume they have all of the answers. I need to be able to communicate with them so that, together, we can solve whatever problem we have using both of our brains.

When I decided, with Dr. Mooney's knowledge and blessing, to try the Welcome Womb and went on to have a happy and healthy pregnancy, I couldn't help but wonder that if I hadn't just gracefully accepted my OB's opinion on herbs, if my whole life would have been different. I know that everything happens for a reason and that if I had tried the herbs and they had worked, I wouldn't have my dear sweet Joseph who is worth everything I went through. Still makes me wonder though.

 I'm back to my old post revivals.  I would love your comments, thoughts, and impressions!
Originally posted 1/10/11
I was beginning to really think long and hard about my life as a mother. I always pictured me with several children and here I was with one. One fantastic child but... one. I wasn't ready to throw in the towel just yet on my dreams of a large family but I had to decide how we were going to get there. I looked at various sites about adoption and read message board experiences with adopting and was starting to think that was the direction to go. Then, I came across a site that really spoiled my attitude about that plan. I don't mean to hurt anyone's feelings that choose or have chosen adoption. These are just my thoughts.

I was learning that the wait for adopting a newborn would be as long as or longer than a pregnancy. Learning this made me eager to sign up right away so that I wouldn't have to wait any longer than necessary to add to my family. Then, as I was surfing the net for agencies, attorneys I came across a page that listed babies that were available for adoption. Now. I read through the list that listed their info like male or female, open or closed adoption, locations, races, and if the birth mother was known to have used or is currently using drugs or alcohol. Then in the last column was the prices. All of the sudden it hit me. I was shopping online for a baby. Some were on sale (my words not theirs) due to maternal drug use, or other known or suspected medical issues. Some were more expensive because they were presumed to be healthy or the mother was expecting the adoptive parents to pay rent and or medical bills. I just couldn't believe that I would ever be able to chose a baby based on price or race or whatever other criterion I found to be of importance. I wanted God to choose for me and I wasn't sure how that would happen with adoption. I decided to table the adoption decision for a while until we got the results form our genetic testing back.

During the wait I did my share of "why me" questioning. I wanted to know what was wrong with me. Why did other women who weren't married, on drugs, already proven to be horrible parents, etc. get pregnant, often without "trying", and end up with a beautiful baby in their arms 9 months later? Here I was, a healthy, loving mother and wife who wanted nothing more than to conceive and keep a pregnancy that actually resulted in a live, screaming, crying baby. Then my husband said this. "Sometimes we have to realize that it isn't always about us."

At first I thought, "Are you kidding me? How is me miscarrying 6 times in a row not about us?!"

He went on to explain his thought. While I can't recall his exact wording the message was this. God is the one calling the shots. His plan for us may not have anything to do with us ending up with a second child or not. It could have everything to do with how our experience will somehow effect someone else's life.

I took that little nugget of thought with me as I went about my day to day activities. I really tried to focus more on how Doug's comments could really be true. I was shopping at Walmart for odds and ends but the primary reason for my trip was that I wanted to buy ovulation tests. Since I was there I picked up some groceries that we needed too. As I walked down an isle glancing at various dinner options I happened to notice a woman a few paces ahead of me. I then saw that she had dropped her grocery list. While I was lost in my thoughts most of the day, I took a moment to pick up the list, speed up a step or two, and ask her if she dropped her list. She looked at me and then at the list. She quickly gave an exhale of relief and thanked me profusely. A few seconds of small talk and a couple more smiles and we were both on our ways. Then I thought about it. "Maybe it isn't always about me." I know that I will never know that woman's story but I began to think about her. Perhaps, my interaction with her was just what she needed that day. Maybe she was depressed and feeling invisible. Maybe she wasn't. Maybe there was something very important on that list that she would have forgotten had I not been there to pick it up and retrieve it. Maybe that one item being forgotten could have changed her life. I know it sounds crazy since there are a million and a half "what ifs" but I needed to do this. Maybe the item she forgot would have made her go back out to the store again later and she would have been killed in a car accident. So, maybe, just maybe, my going to Walmart to buy ovulation tests saved that woman's life. If any of my pregnancies would have been successful I wouldn't have needed those tests and that interaction never would have taken place.

It may sound ridiculous to some but this is how I managed to lift the haze of my recurrent miscarriages. As I moved throughout my daily life I challenged myself, and still do, to interact with as many people as I can since I don't know who God intends me to meet or share my faith with. I find it to be really quite reassuring that my losses weren't for nothing. They could very well be about me deciding to write about my experiences today to impact one of you.

While it is so very tempting to think that God had me miscarry to teach me something, tell me something, or lead me somewhere, I have chosen to see it as God needing me to help him do something. I may never know what that something is but, wow, what an important job I have. I am so blessed.

I am so thankful that Doug shared his thoughts with me that day. His comment has really changed how I view my life, my relationship with God, and my purpose here on Earth.

Originally posted on 1/9/11.  Reviving some of my earliest posts that I wrote when I had 5 followers and one was me.  I will be mixing in some new posts in the coming days so it won't all be re-runs.  :)   

I struggle with writing about my Recurrent Pregnancy Losses. Not because it is too hard to re-live but because it really seems like writing the same story over and over again, six different times. Sometimes I would start bleeding after a few days. Sometimes I would make it a couple of weeks. Inevitably they all had the same ending. Some were a bit more dramatic like starting to bleed on Christmas Day a mere hour or two after announcing the pregnancy to family. Aside from my first miscarriage, my most mind blowing loss was the result of a doctors awful bedside manner.

I had been seeing a new doctor, a Reproductive Endocrinologist, named Dr. Mooney. My first appointment with Dr. Mooney was a memorable one. It was my first ever appointment with a doctor of any kind where I wasn't in a cold sterile room dressed in a flimsy paper sheet and an embarrassed smile since every time I would move it sounded like I was opening a Snickers bar. I was taken to an office. A real office with a desk, chairs, diplomas, and family pictures. I had always spent my time before an appointment wondering if my but crack was visible since I could never sufficiently cover both my front and my backside with the paper sheet. This time, I sat in a comfortable chair looking at pictures of my doctor with his family rather than a poster about menopause or how the uterus works. Dr. Mooney was a young guy, friendly, with a dry sense of humor. Just my kind of guy. I really had all my money riding on this guy. After a lot of talk I left with no answers but I did have hope. We had a plan for my next pregnancy.

A few weeks later, another positive test. I called the doctor and came in right away for the blood tests. I started twice daily injections of Lovenox as well as daily progesterone suppositories. I was thoroughly convinced that the Lovenox was my golden ticket to a take home baby. My HCG was rising. It wasn't doubling at quite the rate that would make most women convinced but it was adequate enough that the office scheduled my first ultrasound for 6.5 weeks. I was happy.

About a week later I noticed that I was losing my symptoms of pregnancy. Against better judgment, I took a pregnancy test and the pink line, while still there, was much lighter than it should have been at that point of pregnancy. In tears, I called the office and told them what was going on and they wanted me to come in right away for an ultrasound so they could see what was going on. Dr. Mooney was at their office in Columbus so I was going to have to see another doctor in the practice. I didn't mind. I just wanted to be, hopefully, reassured that my home pregnancy test was a fluke and that all was well.

I had to take Gavin with me all the way to the Akron office but the nurses told me ahead of time that it would be no problem to have him with me. They even, on the phone, offered to watch him while I was scanned. Once I arrived I was sent to a nicely decorated ultrasound room but no one was around or offered to take Gavin so I figured he could just sit with me in the room. I undressed and waited. After what seemed like an eternity, a man walked into the room. He grabbed the wand for the internal ultrasound and had it halfway inside of me before he introduced himself and shook my hand. That was likely the most awkward handshake I have ever had. Up until he told me who he was, I could have been being prodded by a janitor for all I knew. After about 45 seconds of looking around he removed the wand, stood up, walked to the door, and placed his hand on the knob. Looking in my general direction he said, "There is no sac in the uterus. Follow up with Dr. Mooney tomorrow to rule out ectopic pregnancy." He then made another movement as if to open the door to leave. I tried as hard as I could to contain my emotions. It was mostly for Gavin's sake who was sitting in his stroller in the corner of the room clueless, but also because I was so angry at this man I didn't want him to see me lose it. I tried to choke down the tears but as I took a deep breath I made that shaky inhale sound that clearly tells everyone within earshot that I was about to sob. He looked back over his shoulder and paused long enough to grab a tissue box, hand it to me, and pat me on the shoulder twice. Then he walked out of the room. Gee, thanks.

I sat in the room for a few minutes regaining what composure I could then walked out of the room down the hall to where they do the blood tests. The nurse there was very nice and gave Gavin a sticker (which he actually didn't want anything to do with) then to schedule with a another woman for a follow up appointment with Dr. Mooney. Whatever that horrible doctor's name was, Dr. Maybeajanitor perhaps, ought to be thankful for his very kind staff. Otherwise, I may never have set foot in that office again.

The pregnancy wasn't ectopic and Dr. Mooney was so much kinder and gentler with me. I did miscarry and the bleeding started moments after this appointment. I went home very seriously contemplating if I could even travel this road again. I was really at a turning point where I had to chose if I could handle another miscarriage or if maybe God's plan had Gavin as my only biological child.

I hadn't made up my mind but I started collecting information on adoption agencies.

Since I have been having a really hard time coming up with much to share, I am going to be reviving some of my earliest posts.  These may be some of my more emotional posts as I relive my journey to hopefully help someone else who sadly has traveled, is traveling or will travel a similar journey.  As always, I love comments, thoughts, and questions.   
        Originally posted on 1/7/11
Having Gavin around was a true joy. He was a dream baby who slept like an angel at night, napped well during the day and was generally a content baby whenever he was awake. Doug and I had decided that after a few short months that we were totally ready for another baby to join our family. It took a while for my cycles to get back to normal but as soon as they did we started trying.

A couple of weeks later I was running errands with Gavin and starting realizing that I was feeling...well... different. Could it be? Really? Already? It took us 8 months total to get pregnant with Gavin so... It couldn't be. Could it? I decided to pick up some pregnancy tests. Just in case. When I got home, I couldn't help but test. It was negative.

The next morning I tried again. This time it was undeniably positive. It was faint but it was definitely two pink lines staring back at me. I had tears of utter excitement welling up in my eyes. I was thrilled that I was going to get to enjoy pregnancy all over again. I picked up Gavin who was just 6 months old at the time and spun in circles. We both smiled and giggled. Granted it was for very different reasons but we we two very happy kids at that moment.

Now, to tell Doug! I decided that I was going to make a Big Brother sign for Gavin to hold. I would take a picture and then put it somewhere for Doug to see. I took about 10 pictures and picked my favorite one. I put it in a frame that was in our living room and waited patiently for Doug to come home from work. That was the longest afternoon ever! It is amazing how slow time passes when you have an exciting secret.

When he came home, I waited for him to see the frame. I waited and waited. Finally I started gesturing in that direction. Nothing. Then I decided to sit between him and the picture so that he would have to notice it. I watched his eyes as he talked to me and then I saw them lock on the wall behind me. He walked up to it, read it, and looked at me as shocked as I had been to see the two lines staring back at me. Hugs and a few tears on my part and thus began the journey all over again. We were having a baby!

A couple of weeks later I started spotting. I scoured the internet for stories of hope of spotting during pregnancy and read over and over again that it could be a miscarriage but spotting is quite common in pregnancy. Every site and resource agreed that as long as there wasn't any cramping and it wasn't a heavy flow then it was probably okay. I tried to stay calm and positive. A day or two later the spotting was turning into light bleeding. I decided it was time to call the doctor. The nurse told me that if I was bleeding then I was to go to the ER. So, off we went. I was taken back almost immediately and they ran some blood tests, gave me a urinary catheter so that they could do an ultrasound and check on baby. A little while later they took me to the ultrasound room. I was nervous but hopeful. I should have been just about 6 weeks pregnant at the time. As the technician started the scan she warned me that she would be unable to tell me anything about what she saw. I was so frustrated but I understood why. I watched her face intently hoping to catch a glimpse of her smile or purse her lips in a restrained frown. I saw nothing. It was as if she was reading a page out of the dictionary. After 20 minutes or so of being poked and prodded I was taken back to my room where Doug and I waited for the results.

After close to an hour a male nurse walked in and said, "I bet you are ready to go home!"

"Uh. Yeah. But I would like to know if I am miscarrying before we go."

"What?! The doctor hasn't talked to you yet?" he asked puzzled.

The doctor was then sent in to talk to us. "Congratulations! You are 6 weeks pregnant!" he said with a smile. He went on to explain what I already knew about spotting being common in pregnancy. They did hand me a piece of paper with big bold letter across the top that said "THREATENED MISCARRIAGE". My mouth dropped open and asked the nurse immediately what this was about. He explained that they always give that to anyone who is spotting or bleeding during pregnancy. I was relieved to hear this and was eager to get home to eat some lunch.

Over the next couple of days the bleeding didn't go away. In fact, it was picking up. I called my OB again as I was starting to lose hope. She was not as reassuring as the doctor at the ER was. She, very matter-of-factly, explained to me over the phone that I may be miscarrying. There was nothing we could do but wait. She did schedule me for an appointment a few days later though. I sobbed uncontrollably. I knew it was over but didn't want to let go. I had already envisioned what my life was going to be like with 2 kids. I had imagined this baby growing inside me and kicking me in a few months. I clung to an unrealistic hope that I was going to be one of those very rare success stories where everyone told them they were going to lose the baby but then discover a heartbeat. I would vacillate between thinking that I was still pregnant and utter heartbreaking realization that it was over.

That night I sat on the couch feeling very different. I wasn't sure what it felt like to be bloated but I thought maybe that is what I felt. I decided to go to the computer to google bloating but before I could go there I instantly had to go to the bathroom. I was undeniably losing the baby. I spent the majority of that night in and out of the bathroom. More in than out. I went to the doctor for my appointment and it was confirmed that I had miscarried but had retained some tissue and the sac was still in my uterus. I opted against the D&C and decided to take a series of pills that would make my uterus contract to hopefully expel the remaining tissue.

I went to the grocery store with a tear stained face. I decided that if I was going to take medicine to help me to deliver the tissue, which I had read could be quite uncomfortable, I was going to do what I could to make me feel better. I bought a bottle of red wine, hot dogs (since I wasn't pregnant anymore and could eat them again), dark chocolate, ice cream, and a big package on feminine pads. I think I actually chuckled as I put the items on the conveyor belt. What I sight I must have been.

By the next morning I had passed the tissue and what I presumed to be the sac. I didn't know what to do. I didn't want to flush what should have been my second baby down the toilet so I put it in a plastic bag. Doug and I walked to the top of the hill near our house and dug a hole. We said a prayer and I cried. Again.

We walked back to the house to resume our lives. I knew that we would never be the same after that experience. There was something missing from my heart. There still is.

Last night I had an opportunity to participate in a twitter chat hosted by Unspoken Grief about why talking about perinatal loss is so taboo. While it was a really interesting topic of conversation, I must be too long winded (or whatever the typewritten equivalent is) to make a point in 150 characters or less. So, after the chat last night and thoughts lingering in my head today, I have a few theories.

The first is that people that have had losses aren't sure how to bring it up, when to bring it up, and who to bring it up to. When the WalMart Cashier offers the obligatory, "How are you today?" we may be thinking of nothing other than how we are still healing after the loss of a much wanted child but we say, "Fine. Thanks." If we run into an old friend at a grocery story and they ask us, "What's new?" it isn't easy to spill our emotions out in front of the cans of Chef Boyardee ravioli. We say, "Not much. You?" When our parents ask how we are feeling, we don't want to have them worry that we are are never going to crawl out of the dark place so we just say, "Doing okay. Still sad, but I'll manage." So, why don't we talk about our losses. I think we are trying to protect others from the sadness, hurt, and tears. We save those moments for when we are all alone.

Another theory is that there are a few things that people don't feel comfortable talking about. Bleeding from one's vagina is one of them. While we might say, "I had a miscarriage." and be talking about the emotional loss, someone who hasn't had a loss might think this comment is akin to saying, "Let me tell you about my menstrual cycle." Well, this is an awkward conversation to have now isn't it? If someone is having explosive diarrhea they would never dream of mentioning that in typical conversation with their next door neighbor. If they were asked about their health, for whatever reason, they would probably say they were having digestive issues or dealing with some "bug" that has been going around. They would never say that they have spent the last 3 days captive in the bathroom to the extent that there may be a permanent impression of the toilet seat encircling their nether regions. If they were gutsy enough to say, "I'm having diarrhea." The neighbor would probably give a sympathetic look and say, "Oh. I'm sorry. That really stinks." (no pun intended) Ironically, this would probably be almost the identical comment that the neighbor would make after being told about a miscarriage. Since no one wants to hear an apology similar to one that would be made for a horrid bout of the runs, we just skip mentioning it altogether.

Then there are the well meaning comments, and suggestions that no grieving mother wants to hear. So rather than subject ourselves to the advice, stories about people they know who had the same thing happen, and the "you'll have another baby" lines, we just keep our mouth clamped shut. Bring on the small talk so that we can get home and be alone with our thoughts.

For the past couple of years I have tried to be more open regarding my losses. When people ask me if I am going to have more children or learn that we are trying, I share my history. I don't get too in depth but I do tell people that I had 6 losses in between my two successful pregnancies. They do instantly give me the shocked look which is quickly followed by the sympathetic look. The shocked look isn't all that much different than the look I get when I say that I'll have as many children as God wants me to have. I hope that my sharing about my losses with help others not feel so awkward when it comes to talking about their own.

Do you talk about your loss(es)? Why or why not?

There is a phenomenon that, unless you have had a miscarriage or deal with infertility, you will never be aware of. A woman can go years and manage to see only a handful of pregnant women. Many of those pregnant women are probably on television shows or celebrity gossip magazines. But, if a woman is suffering with infertility, has a miscarriage or has multiple miscarriages, pregnant women start materializing before our very eyes. A simple trip to the grocery store can become a gut wrenching adventure full of pregnant teenagers and women dripping with children and sporting very round expectant bellies. Going to the mall is no longer a search for the most flattering outfit. It is a nightmare of ladies about to drop and give birth at your feet as they walk out of Baby Gap holding 3 bags full of adorable onsies and itty bitty tennis shoes.

Then there seems to be the sudden outbreak of co-workers or family members who have surprise pregnancies. They are the ones who claim they weren't trying or better yet, they were "on the pill" and really can't afford another child. Then they sit and complain about morning sickness, needing to pee all the time, and back pain from their growing bellies.

Facebook friends are another breed of anxiety inducing people who in most cases are just glorified strangers. All of the sudden every person that you ever went to high school with is expecting a baby. People that you barely knew, way back when, are posting ultrasound pictures and belly pictures. Just when you think every possible person on the planet who is of child bearing age has announced their pregnancy then the birth announcements come flooding in.

And just when you think it can't get any worse the phone rings. Your best friend in the whole world calls with that telltale shrill and giddy voice. Then, your voice begins to quiver as you try to say how happy you are for her. That feeling of your heart sitting so low in your stomach that you might either have to poop it out or throw it up. You want so much to share her excitement but all you can do is say congratulations and fake it through a few more sentences before making up some very valid sounding excuse to get off the phone. It is only a matter of seconds before the fake smile washes from your face by a waterfall of tears.

It is so hard to have a miscarriage or deal with infertility and then when "The Phenomenon" is shoveled into your face it is almost unbearable. This is how I finally decided to cope. When I came across a glowing pregnant woman in the grocery store or mall, I just reminded myself that I don't know her journey. She may have had 6 miscarriages too. She may have had to try for 3 years for that pregnancy. Not that I would ever wish a loss or infertility on anyone, but it somehow made me feel better to think she had "earned" that belly. She deserved that baby as much as I deserved one.

If it was a unwed teenager or someone who wasn't in a place to take care of a child I just had to remind myself that God sent them that child for a reason. Maybe that kid would save my child's life by donating an organ or becoming the doctor who cures cancer. While I very much wish that God would have put a baby in my belly or let me keep the one that had been there, there is not a finite number of babies. It isn't like God is going to run out just because someone else happened to get in line in front of me.

I think it is totally normal to be jealous, hurt, sad, and sometimes even crushed to know of others' good fortune (even if they themselves don't see it as good fortune at the time). I recall once hearing that the odds of getting "your baby" is something like 1 in 66 billion. When I look at my sons, I know that they were worth waiting for that 1 in 66 billion lottery ticket even if it meant dealing with The Miscarriage and Infertility Phenomenon.





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One of the most frequent things I get asked or see women asking about on various message boards "I am not sure I could go through this again. How do I try again after a loss." I am sure that every woman who has had a loss would have a different answer since everyone deals with things differently. But, I can share how I managed to fall down 6 times and get back up 6 times.

• I had to choose what would be more painful, another loss or never having another baby.
  

That was a tough one for me. After the first few losses, I flirted with the idea of adoption but ultimately knew in my heart that I was willing to try almost anything to feel a baby kick in my tummy again. I knew how painful loss was but I knew that the joy of a child would far outweigh my hurt.

• I made a plan.

I had to have a plan for each cycle. Since I managed to fall pregnant so frequently (never longer than 4 months) I would try various supplements, fertility aids, vitamins, etc. It made me feel like I was at least trying to do something different. I thought that if I used different "tricks" then I would get different results. I also liked to know what my doctor was prepared to do as soon as I had my positive pregnancy test in hand. It helped me to feel more empowered to know, proactively, what the plan would be.

• I prayed.

I learned that asking God to let me stay pregnant wasn't working. Begging for a pregnancy test line to be darker or asking for my beta hcg numbers to be doubling weren't the right requests. I learned that I had to pray for God's will. I prayed that if it was God's will for me to stay pregnant that is what I very much desired. If it wasn't in His will, I prayed that God would hold me close and guide me through loss. I prayed for understanding and peace with whatever He had planned for me.

• I counted my blessings.

I knew that I had so much to be thankful for. The fact that I had my son, Gavin, was such a blessing to me. My losses helped me to appreciate what a miracle he really is. I really learned how lucky I was to have such a supportive husband who, while he grieved differently, always let me grieve in whatever way I needed to. I knew that if I was going to miscarry again that God had blessed me with a wonderful man who would love me through it all.

• I let God decide.

Quit or keep trying? God knows what we should do. If I ever really found myself wondering if I was strong enough to go through another loss, I asked Him. Thankfully God made me strong enough to go through 6 losses. Now, I find myself wondering if I am strong enough to handle any more losses. I hope I don't have to find out.

I have mentioned using Welcome Womb in my other posts but haven't really spent too much time really talking about it. I am a bit scared to talk about it too much since I know that just because I used it once and had a healthy pregnancy, doesn't mean that it is a miracle cure to recurrent losses. But, on the other hand, I feel guilty keeping it a secret if there are other women who want to try it. I have decided that rather than tip-toe around my use of the herbs, I am going to go ahead and shout from the rooftops that it saved my pregnancy and I couldn't be happier that I tried it. I am almost convinced that without it, I would not have had my Joseph.

I had every test to try and diagnose a cause for my recurrent losses. My GP, OB, and RE all ran various tests searching for a reason that I couldn't stay pregnant for more than a few weeks. Aside from being heterozygous for MTHFR and PAI-1, they were all in normal ranges. My RE prescribed progesterone suppositories that I used from Ovulation on and when I got pregnant I continued the suppositories. I kept testing to see if the lines on the pregnancy tests would get darker and they did. For a while. Then they stopped. As they got lighter, I knew that the only reason I wasn't bleeding was the progesterone. They ran a blood test and confirmed that I had miscarried. As soon as I stopped the progesterone, I bled.

The next time I tried lovenox injection and the progesterone. Same thing happened. I miscarried again. Over the 18 months of trying, getting pregnant, and miscarrying, I had tried every combination and variation of medical methods to stay pregnant. Nothing was working. I was so devastated. I was so tired of getting "pregnant" only to have a week of hormonal outbursts and stress only to end with spotting, bleeding, or betas dropping. I had quit thinking of cute ways to tell my husband that I was pregnant. I would simply show him a positive test and tell him not to get too excited. I was just tired of the roller coaster.

I had read on a message board about Welcome Womb where women had tried it and stayed pregnant. After being willing to inject myself with blood thinners leaving bruises all over myself, and shoving progesterone in places that are rarely discussed outside of TTC (trying to conceive), and swallowing handfuls of pills, vitamins, and any other suggested item, why would I stop at herbs?

When I got pregnant again I told my RE that I didn't want to do the Lovenox. He agreed. I told him that I didn't want to use the progesterone. If I was going to bleed, I wanted to just bleed. I didn't want to have to wonder if I had lost the baby but just wasn't bleeding because of the suppositories. He thought I should use the Progesterone but wouldn't think I was horrible if I opted out. I did opt out. I took my vitamins, baby aspirin, and folic acid and started the Welcome Womb as soon as it arrived in the mail.

My first 2 betas were done before I was able to to start the herbs. They were 14.5 on 12 dpo, 24.5 on 14dpo, and then 51.4 on 16dpo. I started the herbs the afternoon of 16dpo. On 18dpo my beta jumped to 124. I have to think that it was the herbs that helped my HCG finally climb to the levels they were supposed to be. Then, I actually made it far enough to schedule my first ultrasound to hopefully see a heartbeat.

When I was 6 weeks 4 days pregnant I went to the RE and, for the first time since Gavin, I heard that breathtaking sound of a heartbeat. The fact that Joseph is here now is all the proof I needed that the Welcome Womb worked for me. This time.

I fully intend on trying it again when I get pregnant. I am not selling Welcome Womb. I am not affiliated with the company in any way. I am just a mother who was able to bring home a baby after losing 6 in a row. How can I not want to share this possible solution to recurrent losses with everyone? I am not saying that it will work for everyone and I did use it with my doctor's blessing. I am now looking forward to learning if it will work a second time. I will post my experiences when I have an opportunity to try it again.



God gives us all that is green.

Since I was a little girl, like most other little girls, I always wanted to be a mom. I do remember thinking that being pregnant would be quite scary. Not because I would be responsible for another life but for the fact that there would be a human living inside of me for 9 months, kicking me the whole time. Then there was the issue of needing to push that human out of a very small hole. How frightening. Little did I know how much I would love being pregnant.

I won't pretend like I enjoyed throwing up routinely. I didn't particularly like the hip and back pain especially when trying to get some rest. Also not a big fan of needing to go to the bathroom more often than those people on the commercials with urinary frequency issues. Along those lines, I also didn't enjoy having to clench every muscle I had when I sneezed to prevent peeing myself and needing to carry extra underwear, like my 2 year old, in the event a sneeze snuck up on me. What I just can't seem to get enough of is the awareness of the amazing miracle that is taking place during a pregnancy. The fact that 2 microscopic things came together and forms a human being complete with functioning organs and limbs grown inside of me. Then we get to meet this little person that is part of us. To me, it is just almost too profound and thrilling to put it into words. Just miraculous.

So, while most families these days would be finished after having two children I just can't imagine living the rest of my life without getting to experience pregnancy again... at least once. I certainly have my hands full with two children but I am eager to expand our family. Since my cycles have returned to pretty close to normal we have actively started trying for number three.

With as much as I want to have more babies I must admit that I fear getting pregnant. I am so hopeful that my history of recurrent miscarriages is behind me since discovering the Welcome Womb, but my rational brain also reminds me that just because I had a successful pregnancy using the herbs, doesn't mean the herbs are what did it. Could have just been coexisting variables but I truly hope that wasn't the case. Nevertheless, even if I do have to go down the road of miscarriage again, I know that the journey is so worth experiencing the miracle of life again.

With my previous losses I thought that if I prayed hard enough, often enough, and sincere enough I would finally get to stay pregnant and have a baby. Each time that I would start spotting, lose my symptoms, or lose hope that the pregnancy was progressing I would find myself asking God, "Please. Please. Please let me stay pregnant. We want this baby. Please make the bleeding stop and let everything be okay." When I would go on to miscarry, I wouldn't be angry at God, just confused as to why he didn't give me what I asked for. Then it occurred to me that God isn't Santa Claus. He isn't a genie in a lamp. He doesn't grant wishes or command little elves to perform miracles. He gives us only what we need and what He wills us to have. It was really hard, at first, to pray for God's will knowing full well that it may be His will for me to never have a second child. But, I knew that His will was what I should ask for. I also began asking for patience and understanding for when His will isn't easy for me to handle.

We prayed for God's will every night. I also began using the Welcome Womb that arrived in the mail after just a few days. I used it immediately. After less than 48 hours of using the herbs, my blood HCG went from barely doubling to clearly doubling and then some. It could have been a fluke but it gave me a confidence I had never had before. When I told Doug about the results of the most recent blood test and how I was starting to think that these herbs were going to work he reminded me that, "God gives us all that is green." Ironically, I was willing to eat grass from the yard had I thought it would keep me pregnant.

Each morning and night I would take the herbs. They are simply awful tasting. Just thinking about the taste kind of makes me gag. But I choked them down using whatever means necessary. I tried taking them like a shot- not recommended. I tried them in fruit juices- also disgusting. I settled on strongly brewed peppermint tea with a lot of honey. It still wasn't tasty but I could get it down.

A couple of weeks later we went to Dr. Mooney's office for a viability ultrasound. I was about 6 weeks 4 days. Within seconds of starting the ultrasound we saw the little baby with a flicker of a heartbeat. I didn't know whether to laugh or cry that we finally got to see a baby. Then Dr. Mooney pushed a few buttons and all of the sudden the room was filled with the sound of our little baby's heartbeat echoing all around us. I never thought that day would come. Just as soon as I was ready to celebrate by doing a hula dance wearing nothing but the stunning paper sheet, Dr. Mooney reminded us, "This is a great start but we aren't out of the woods yet."

Ah. Sweet reality.

In October of 2010, Doug and I would be celebrating our 4th wedding anniversary. It was hard to imagine that 4 years had already passed. I guess the saying holds true that time flies when you are having fun. According to my charts and calendars I was also due to ovulate on our anniversary so I figured that we would at least have a chance of having another positive pregnancy test in a few weeks. If we didn't, we had our appointment to receive the results from our genetic testing at beginning of November. Our anniversary was right around the corner and Doug broke the news to me that he has to be in Canada for business. At first I was sad just to learn that he would be away for our anniversary. Then I was a little extra heartbroken that I was going to ovulate when I was home all alone. Another month was going to pass with no baby 9 months later but again, at least we would be getting some answers. Well, I had hoped so.

If I wasn't already convinced that God has his hand in everything then I was that month. I was taking my temperature every morning and as Doug was out of town I waited for my temperature to rise indicating, for sure, that we had missed our chance. My temperature slowly ticked upward each morning but not enough that I could throw in the towel for that month. It was Friday and Doug was due home that night so on a whim, I took and ovulation test only to get the most positive result I had ever had in my 18 months of trying. I called Doug and made sure he "saved some energy" for when he came home. The rest of the month, I continued to take my temperature but never, unlike every other month in my charting career, had a significant rise in temperature. I had no idea if or when I really ovulated since all I could go on was one OPK.

A little less than 2 weeks later I was eager for Doug and I to meet with Dr. Mooney to get the results from the testing. I was sure that something must be wrong with one or both of us. I certainly didn't want this to be the case but at least with that information in hand, we could get a real handle on what was happening and what our options were. The day before the appointment I took a home pregnancy test just to rule out, for sure, that we were pregnant. There appeared a ghostly shadow of a line.

"Seriously?!" I asked myself. "Again?!"

I wanted more than anything to be pregnant but I was sure that I was just going to miscarry. Again.

The next day, I took another test and the line was darker! I had unavoidable feelings of hopefulness but with an overwhelming sense of dread. It was like driving in fog to an unknown destination. But into that car I climbed. For now, the destination was Dr. Mooney's office for the results.

Normal. Both normal. Unbelievable. We must have the worst luck in the world! Still no explanation for 6 consecutive losses and here we are with yet another, likely doomed, pregnancy. We talked with Dr. Mooney about what to do with the next cycle if/when we miscarried again.

We talked about green beans. Canned green beans. No joke. I asked him if there was anything I could do to improve the quality of my eggs and he referred to my eggs as 33 year old canned green beans. There was nothing I could do to make them younger, look better, or more appealing. At my request, he agreed that we could try Clomid to try to produce a couple more eggs. I think his words were, "Sure. We can throw a few more at the wall and see if at least one will stick. It would improve the odds, I suppose."

Before leaving we did talk about our plan of action with the current pregnancy on the off chance we could make it last. I decided to not use the progesterone suppositories since they hadn't worked in the past and all they seemed to do was prolong the inevitable miscarriage by tricking my body into thinking I was still pregnant. We were also going to skip the Lovenox injections since they were very expensive, not fun to administer to oneself, and failed to keep me pregnant the last time. I decided that I was just going to take my vitamins and baby aspirin. Then, I asked Dr. Mooney about herbs. He said that he didn't think that there was any harm in trying but without saying as much, I don't think he had much faith in them.

That afternoon I ordered the herbs that claimed to prevent miscarriage. I had read testimonials from women that had used these herbs and went on to have happy and healthy pregnancies so I figured, why not give it a shot. Nothing else had worked. I ordered the herbs and waited for them to arrive.