I grew up knowing I was going to be a mommy someday. I started babysitting at the age of 11 and started working as a preschool teacher just months after my high school graduation. Children have always been such a natural part of my life. So when I met and married my best friend, it seemed like only a matter of time before we’d be welcoming our first addition to the family.
Three weeks after our wedding I began having extreme pain in my left pelvic area. Because I was spotting, I assumed it was really bad menstrual cramps. My husband finally insisted on taking me to the ER to be on the safe side. After hours of waiting, the doctor walked in and said “Well, since you’re pregnant…” probably assuming we already knew. The look on my husband’s face will always be a wonderful memory for me. We were both stunned, and I was sent home on bed rest. They could not find any problems, but I was labeled high risk due to the location of the pain I felt. I went back for another scan a few days later to make sure I didn’t have an ectopic pregnancy.
The day before we celebrated 1 month of marriage, I was cleared to return to work. Halfway through my day, I began experiencing extreme cramping and bleeding. It took 3 hours for my director to find a sub for my class. By the time I made it to the ER, my pregnancy had ended. We spent our 1 month mark grieving the loss of our first child; our honeymoon baby. It was the only day off I was given to recover and grieve. That experience left such a bad taste in my mouth, and I quit my job shortly after this incident.
A little more than a year later I found myself pregnant again. We hadn’t been trying, and I was on birth control at the time. My doctor assured me that he found no reason to be concerned, and he expected me to have a normal pregnancy. We were ecstatic to have another chance to be parents. I was still labeled as a risk due to my last miscarriage, so I went in every two weeks for blood work and scans. At my 9 week checkup, things didn’t look right. I was told that I was experiencing a blighted ovum and that my baby had never really developed. I scheduled a D&C, and a month before Mother’s Day my 2nd pregnancy ended.
For the next year I battled with depression and infertility. I wanted desperately to get pregnant, but nothing was working. I was finally put on Clomid. It took two rounds, but we finally got our third pregnancy. I thought that my third time would be the charm. Isn’t two losses enough for me to go through? Only a few weeks into the pregnancy I began spotting and having pain. I knew all too well that I was losing my child for a third time. The day before April Fools’ Day I miscarried. I’m infinitely grateful that I didn’t have to experience my loss on April Fools’.
I am currently waiting for a hytseroscopy and blood testing to see if there is any cause for my losses. It’s been a month since my third loss and I have both good and bad days. My husband and I are starting to discuss our options if we find I won’t be able to ever carry to full term. Either way, we are determined to be parents.