One of the first things Lyle and I discussed, after the realisation that we were going to lose our baby, was trying again.
We were, without hesitation, in agreement that we wanted to keep trying. We know that we are meant to be parents. Every doctor and specialist that we’ve seen believes it’s unlikely to effect any future pregnancies and they’ve given us the go ahead to start trying when we are ready.
In fact, the thought that we can try again has been a major factor in me hanging on to my sanity. Knowing that this didn’t happen to us because of something I had or hadn’t done, or because of a failure in my own body, but simply because of horrid cruel luck, has been a saving grace.
Seeing as trying again was always our decided path, I didn’t expect to feel this way about getting my period. (At least what I think is my period, it’s certainly not typical to my cycles pervious to pregnancy)
Though the idea of trying again has been a source of strength for me, I suppose the reality of it has hit me harder than expected.
It took us a year to fall pregnant, and though I’ve theoretically accepted that it’s likely to take us a while again, I also know that I was barely holding it together towards the end of that year. How well am I going to handle it now?
This period has barely ended and I’m already dreading the disappointment and anxiety that will come with the start of my next one. How will I cope with four or five failed months.
What if it gets to a year again, what if it’s longer?
What if I never fall pregnant again?
I’m still only wrestling with the idea of trying again and I’m already anxious for this hypothetical pregnancy. I may of portrayed a sense of calm through my pregnancy but I most certainly wasn’t.
I was worried from day one. Every ache, every twinge, every symptom, I was googling and asking my mum and sister about. I was convinced something was going to go wrong.
Every one reassured me that everything was normal. Each doctors visit was uneventful, each urine and blood test came back clear, every one told me that everything was fine. How am I supposed to believe them now?
How can I get through a pregnancy when I can barely get through this post with out breaking down?
The thought of never being pregnant is equally as terrifying as the thought of falling pregnant right now.
I know there are lots of mums to rainbow babies out there, how did you deal with this? How or when did you start trying again?
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