Something powerful happens when you miscarrying for a second time…

The first time, everyone around was kind, loving and supportive. They wanted me to have hope, to try again, to believe everything happens for a reason. The amount of love that I received every where I turned was incredible.

Maybe it’s because I was pregnant for 12 weeks the first time and only 6 the second.

But the second time, it was completely different. We decided that because we told everyone about the first miscarriage that we would just tell them when we were pregnant. Why only share the bad news? Let’s celebrate in the good news!

 

Our friends and family were overjoyed when we told them!  A baby F would be on the way, an October baby just like me! I thought I would be nervous or anxious, but I was the complete opposite. I was beyond elated and planned for nothing but positivity. I made sure to take my vitamins, exercised, ate healthy – probably better than I had in the weeks prior! My energy radiated love and happiness.

Two short weeks later it was over. Miscarriage number 2.

Whether it was true, or my perception I suppose I’ll never know – but most people were left with nothing to say. The major question that I was asked was “Well what did the doctor say was wrong”? I was no longer the normal 1 in 3…now I was broken.

And I honestly felt (still feel) broken. I went to acupuncture, a naturopath, my family doctor, I read articles, I searched and stayed hopeful. My husband is basically the most amazing man on earth, so I was fully supported through all my whackadoodle grasping at straws. I went through a month of intensive homeopathic remedies, then hubs was gone for a month for work, then waves of “if it’s meant to be it will happen” and “I’m tracking this cycle like it’s my only goal in life”. I tried to stay positive, wallowed in grief, and just coasted.

The rabbit hole was long and deep. There were (are) many tears and “why me’s”.

Everyday I work very hard on maintaining my positive outlook but I also wonder if I will ever get to have a baby. I have joined a CrossFit gym and have been exercising 6 times a week. My eating is off point, but it’s on my agenda of things to improve on. It’s likely the most important area as it greatly affects the way my hormone levels, inflammation, and just my overall sense of self.

I don’t know if things happen for a reason, but they sure do happen. Regardless of our plans, our hopes, our dreams or our goals. And when things happen, we are forced to react. This reaction is based on who we are, who we were, and who we wish to be. I’m not completely satisfied with how I managed this past experience but I’m also not completely disappointed. I did gain weight, I call it my cortisol baby. I also had big tears when those around were celebrating their own family victories. But I also woke up every morning looking for the bright side. I gave an honest effort to maintain peace and order in my home. I tried to give myself a break as well as a little push when the going felt too hard.

This is my life, it’s the only story I get. It’s painful, but honestly, the pain is fairly consistent. My list of obstacles is not short, but maybe that is why I admire strength. I will continue to build myself.

I am going to work toward creating structure in my world. A manageable structure that will help me celebrate future success and overcome future obstacles. One piece at a time.