My Infertility Story: Part 1
Two back-to-back pregnancy losses, a missed miscarriage, and a hospitalization
I met the love of my life when I was 34 years old. He was 29. Being with this incredible man solidified my desire to have children; I knew having a family with him would be an amazing life. But, foolishly, we thought we had plenty of time. All that ‘after 35 it gets harder’ stuff is propaganda to sell fertility products, right? So we went along in blissful innocence, ignoring the loudass ticking of our collective biological clock.
Alexis proposed to me two years later during pandemic-times, we got married the next year when I was 37, and planned to start trying for a baby during our honeymoon the following year. I remember we worried when I removed my Nexplanon a couple of months before leaving for Greece. What if it happens too soon? Society only teaches us that pregnancy is something to protect against and if we don’t, we’ll get pregnant as easily as the wind blows.
After an amazing honeymoon, at age 38, I was immediately pregnant. Like the very first month. Perfect - just like we wanted! I remember thinking, wow maybe that was even a little too soon. We felt a giddy excitement we would never get to feel again, telling our parents immediately and starting to make plans.
A couple weeks later while meeting friends at a restaurant, I started to bleed. A lot of people don’t know that miscarriages do not happen all at once and, at first, you can assume it’s normal pregnancy spotting. Then the blood flow increases and it becomes apparent over the next few days (or weeks!) that you’re miscarrying. It’s often a slow, dragged-out process. We were completely shocked and devastated. Pregnancy loss was something we were aware of, but we hadn’t known of it happening to anyone we knew. The emotional pain and feeling of misfortune cut deep, but we had no idea what was in store for us.
To our surprise, I was pregnant again the following month. I’d read the stats; surely this bad luck only happens to some people ONCE, at most. Alexis and I relaxed a little and delighted in thinking up baby names. I started to feel nauseous, packing a paper sack in my school bag just in case. Everyone, including my healthcare providers, reassured me that it wouldn’t happen again, and that to miscarry twice in a row was extremely unlikely.
About six weeks in, I had a dull ache on my right side (that I now know is a normal corpus luteum cyst I get every time I’m pregnant). We went to the doctor and I was hospitalized overnight due to the concern that I was having an ectopic pregnancy. It was scary and super stressful, as they kept repeating the vaginal ultrasound, which felt like a knife stabbing my right ovary. We were eventually reassured that everything was probably ok and sent home. Of course, at this point, I was extremely worried.
A ten-week ultrasound check revealed that the embryo was not developing. We were, once again, completely crushed. This time there was an extra complication in the form of a missed miscarriage. Basically, my body had no clue that the embryo had died, so I didn’t bleed. Since I wasn’t really in the mood to wait around for it to start, they gave me these horrific pills that induce freakin’ CONTRACTIONS. I mean, when you’re having a baby you are usually given an epidural! I spent Halloween 2022 on the bathroom floor screaming as everything was forced out of me. Sorry, I never said that a blog about infertility wouldn’t be graphic.
I discovered that the trauma of recurrent miscarriages, especially in a row, was set apart from having one miscarriage. I want to make it very clear here that it is terrible to have one, no matter how early or late. But because it is very common to have one (especially an early one) and usually the person gets pregnant again pretty soon after and it usually doesn’t happen again, when experiencing two or more, you really start to lose hope that it will EVER work. After the first one, I thought, it will work next time. But after playing pregnancy “Gotcha!”, it feels like you’re being lied to over and over again. (Btw, having two or more miscarriages is also pretty darn common). Also, a lot of people are at a loss at knowing what to say to comfort you; maybe they already said some things the first time and now they feel stupid saying them again. It’s just feels so so hopeless and isolating.
By now, Alexis and I asked the doctor for thorough fertility investigations but, apparently, they don’t run tests until you’ve had three miscarriages, which is just ridiculous! Luckily, we had a different OB that day who was okay with doing them. We ruled out all the big things, finding no cause other than “bad luck”. “Try again,” she said. So we started diligently tracking my ovulation and tried for another pregnancy.
In the next couple months, I fell into a stifling depression, somehow finishing my degree and traveling to gorgeous Banff with my husband for a work conference. Exciting things were happening, but I couldn’t really enjoy them. My graduation was a fog. It all felt so unfair. I kept thinking, I should be going into my third trimester right now, our life should look like this, etc. I would cry inconsolably for hours while Alexis held me. The world felt like a dark and unkind place. I felt alone and lost, sinking without a life raft.
I found a therapist with personal infertility experience who helped me get my head back above the water. I practiced lots of self-care and focused on our overseas move to Gothenburg. Oh yeah, we decided to move from the US to Sweden! So we put off trying to conceive for a couple months in case either a pregnancy or a possible loss (which felt more likely because of you know, the having no more hope thing) could interfere with the big move. Maybe things would be better if we started fresh on the other side of the world?
To be continued…
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I’m so sorry you are going through this. Maybe once you guys get settled and that stress is removed, it’ll all get easier . By the way , I have to tell you that my daughters were born while my husband was in the Army. NO EPIDURALS BACK THEN. Ever. Keep your head up sweetie and try to stay excited ! ❤️
Oh my gosh! This is heartbreaking. So sorry you had to go through all of that. I can't even imagine, but I do have friends who experienced similar. And I know it was devastating for them. I am going to read part 2 now as well.