What If...And the stories of miscarriages...

I'm dealing with a lot of "where would I be if..." I hadn't miscarried.

My first miscarriage was in November. My due date was June 19. If I hadn't miscarried, I'd be 31 weeks pregnant. I would probably be getting pretty big and uncomfortable at this point. If the baby had made it this long, he or she would be able to survive outside of my body. It would be a whole person, fully functioning. I would be wearing cute maternity clothes (yes, I really do think that maternity clothes are cute). I wouldn't be getting ready to go out of the country next week. Instead, I would be overseeing the decorating of the nursery, attending showers, and asking my husband to massage my swollen ankles.

My second miscarriage was in February. My due date was October 19. If I hadn't miscarried, I'd be 13 weeks. Just coming out of the first trimester, I hope that I would start to find some peace and trust that this pregnancy would stick. I'd be able to hear the heartbeat with the Doppler that I wanted to rent. I might even be showing at this point. At least my pants would be getting a little snug about now.

These thoughts are really depressing. But they are unavoidable. The minute that you find out that you are pregnant, you start planning. You start thinking about how big you'll be when, what you'll be able to do for the next 9 months, what you have to avoid. You start thinking about all the things that need to be done before Baby is born. You start planning decor for Baby's room, making lists for the registry, looking at maternity clothes. You can't be too prepared, right? I have a friend getting married a week before my first due date in June. I had already started looking at maternity websites to find just the right dress.

From the minute that you find out that you are pregnant, your whole life changes. You start eating differently. You stay away from chemicals and anything that seems harmful. You have to plan for the future. I had to start carrying around bags of little snacks and bottles of water because I never knew when the hunger monster would strike. And if I let myself get hungry for too long, then nausea would overcome me. So I had to think ahead, be prepared.

But I wasn't prepared for what actually happened. Both miscarriages were "missed miscarriages." The first one blind-sided me. I knew that something was wrong with the second one. Whether that was intuition or fear speaking, I still don't know.

But with the first, I had no idea. My husband and I went in for our first OB appointment. I was so excited. My husband had spent hours (it seemed anyway) talking to my belly. We called him/her "Speck." I know, it's a goofy name, but I thought it was cute. You see, he/she was still just the size of a speck, so the name fit. Anyway, we had planned and dreamed for the 5 weeks that we had known that I was pregnant. I was just over 9 weeks along. I knew that we should see a baby with a heartbeat on the ultrasound that day. So when all there was on the screen was a yolk sac, I knew that something was not right, but the thought of miscarriage still never crossed my mind. Then the doctor came in and my world crashed down around me.

This was just a fluke, right? It happens to a lot of women. In fact, I read that 50% of women have been touched by miscarriage. That's a lot. Ok, it just wasn't meant to be. I can accept that and move on. The next one will be fine, right?

Not exactly.

My second miscarriage was different. First of all, I hardly even believed that I was pregnant. I was so cautious about getting my hopes up. But I have to admit that by the time I was 6 weeks, I was starting to get pretty excited about the idea. We called this one "Chip" because we were hoping that it was a "chip off the old block." My husband is an overacheiver, and we were hoping that this little one was the same--that it would develop accordingly. But in the back of my mind I knew or feared that something was wrong, so I wasn't surprised when the ultrasound showed nothing but a gestational sac. I was calm. I took it in stride, for the most part.

This one brought into question so many other factors. I wasn't nearly as attached to this baby, so losing it wasn't as traumatic as the first. I wasn't blind-sided like the first. But now, now it wasn't just a fluke anymore. I mean, what is the chance of getting hit by lightning twice in your lifetime?? Well, apparently, there is a 4% chance of having 2 miscarriages. Are they both random? Doesn't feel possible. I feel like there is truly something wrong with me. There must be. Why else can't my body seem to handle the most natural of conditions?

I don't know how this story ends. I will meet with a specialist next month and hopefully have some testing done. I hope to find some answers.

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I started this entry talking about my "what if" thoughts. I guess that those thoughts naturally lead me back to talking about why I'm not pregnant anymore. It's just all a bit much too take sometimes.

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I'm leaving for Italy next week. I'm excited about going. I've always wanted to see Italy. But it makes me sad, too. Because if I hadn't miscarried the first time, I wouldn't be preparing for this trip, I'd be preparing for Speck's arrival. I hate that this trip is sort of a consolation prize. I want to be excited, and I want this to be really special for my husband and I. Lord knows, we need a vacation.

I'll just make the best of it. And someday, I will be big and round and unable to travel. So I should enjoy this while I can, right? That's what I'll try to do.