What Baby Carriage?

I remember the kids chanting in Kindergarten "(Enter names here) Sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G. First comes love, then come marriage, then come the baby in the baby carriage."  If life were only that simple!  And for many it is.  The happily ever after is there, and it is possible... for some.  

Then there is the group of us that got two out of three.  I have the love and the marriage, and believe me that I am blessed to have those (and in no way do I take it for granted); but I still yearn for the "baby carriage."  As a substitute, my animals have filled the baby void... poor them!  (Notice my two adorable girls Daphne Jane and Macy Elizabeth.  I'm sure I will post pics of my boys eventually.) Daphne is the best sport of all of my fur-babies.  She even has her own "baby carriage."  Laugh if you must, but since she is afraid of most people, the stroller lets her see without being touched.  

Back to my point though.  We all don't get our trifecta, but most of us accept that (or try to, at least).  We progress with our lives hoping that maybe we get lucky, and we get to score that final piece of the puzzle.  Some will accept defeat, others will try harder in hopes of reaching the promised land, some will spend fortunes to find a way to accomplish the goal, while a small few will try any and everything (even the unusual) to try for the prize, and finally others will just get that stroke of luck.  Three times now, I thought that I had attained the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow.  

My first pregnancy (and miscarriage) was a shock.  I had spent time on Clomid, just to try and get my body to work normally.  I had spent several years on and off of Depot Luperon, and in turn I ended up losing my gall bladder and my ovulation! So in 2008, Enter a course of Clomid!  After six months, the Clomid still wasn't helping... so I accepted defeat, and figured that my body would ovulate when it was ready.  Little did I know that within a few months and without even trying, I would be PREGNANT!  How can such a glorious moment come crashing down in the next moment?  Two words: Ectopic Pregnancy.  For those who do not know what the dreaded ET is, just follow the link.  Within a week, I was scheduled for a D&C.  If that procedure wasn't enough, I miscarried a second baby three days later.  Yes, I was carrying twins, and one was playing "hide-n-seek."  I decided to name my babies, because for me it made them a bit more real.  They were graced with the names Bailey and Riley.  

Two years later, and I find myself in another exciting moment.  Planning a wedding, and becoming pregnant!  I bounced my way into the OB's office, completely on cloud 9.  I was 6 weeks along, and was excited that I might get to see my little bug on an ultrasound!  If only I could have not been such an optimist!  Two more dreaded words came out of the Doctor's mouth... Blighted Ovum.  I looked up at the screen to to see the empty sac, as the doctor explained to me what those dreaded words and black hole on the screen were.  We waited two more weeks, just in case there was a positive change; but my sac only got smaller.  So another D&C was scheduled, and at what should have been just past 9 weeks, the sac was removed.  Later tests showed that there was nothing genetically wrong with the baby, and there was no reason that they found for the loss.  The explanation from the doctor... "It just happens.  At least blighted ovums are normally a one time thing."   I blessed this baby with the name Taylor.

To fast forward through the next two years... The husband and I finally got married.  We worked our jobs, and tried ever harder to get pregnant.  Every month that "Aunt Flow" came, I cried myself to sleep for a few nights.  I noticed every pregnancy announcement on Facebook with a cringe.  I would sometime shed a tear as we walked past the baby section of a store. Pregnant women would walk past me, and I would sometimes want to run.  It's not that I wasn't happy for my friends, or that I had a hatred for anything "baby;" it's just that I was upset at my own body for not acting right.  But time progresses as it always does, and I learned to just cope.  

November 5, 2012...  I had decided to go to the doctor (well, husband kind of forced), because my friend "Flow" had decided to misbehave over the last few cycles.  I also thought I was getting some kind of bug... My body was kind of tingly in places, and I was nauseous, and I was a bit dizzy.  The doctor looked me over, drew some blood, and told me that he didn't see anything but would call if there was anything on the blood work.  So there I sat at work the next morning, when a nurse calls.  "Well, we know why you don't feel well!  Congratulations, you are four weeks pregnant."  I was shocked...I was only due for "Flow's" visit that day.  I spent the next month in a blissful state of pregnancy.  I waited until I was in my eighth week of pregnancy to see my OB.  I didn't want to go through dreaded waiting to see if there was bad or good news.  Heck, they had already told me that another blighted ovum was a rarity. I wanted to be positive.  I should have probably remembered that for most of my life the only luck I have is bad luck.  I went in for my initial appointment, to find out that I had a rare instance on my hands...another blighted ovum.  I cried harder than I ever thought possible, and a small part of me didn't want to believe what the doctor was saying.  So I decided to let my body be the judge, and if I was to miscarry...It would happen on it's own.  The doctor had me come back twice over the next four weeks, he wanted to check for either progress or infection.  At the 12 week mark, still no miscarriage... but infection was beginning.  So on December 28, 2012, I miscarried what would have been my fourth child.  And again, tests were run to see if there had been any chromosomal problems.  I had already settled on a name, And I had a feeling it was a girl.  The doctor confirmed both chromosomal abnormalities (between the 5th and 7th, but my specific genetic workup came back perfect), and that she would have been a girl.  I called her Harper.

I have now miscarried 4 babies in four years.  I don't have any answers as to why I have lost them, but my heart aches.  And I love the babies I never got to meet.  I only hope that one day we will be together again.  On a side note...I was due the same week as Prince William and Kate.

So as to try and help me heal, I decided to blog it out.  No one may read this, besides my loving mother (Hi, Momma! I love you.), but if it helps me get through this; and can possibly help console another grieving person... then it's worth it.  So here it goes, blogging may not always perfect, but always loving life.