I want to start this post by issuing a trigger/content warning regarding miscarriage. I also want to say that I KNOW I should be grateful that I was able to conceive 3 beautiful and awesome kids.
I am.
But there was heartache.
I got pregnant for the first time in August of 2001. I didn't find out I was pregnant until October 19. I was ecstatic and scared. I started looking at clothes and trying to picture what my baby would look like.
On November 11, I started cramping and bleeding. It was determined I was having a miscarriage.
On November 12, I passed the fetus at home, in my toilet.
I was devastated.
On January 13, 2002, I found out I was pregnant again. This time, there was no ecstatic feeling...only fear. It was kept a secret and would be until I made it to the second trimester.
That never happened. I miscarried again on February 10.
My marriage fell apart and I moved to Florida to live with my mom.
I found out the day after my 21st birthday party that I was pregnant. This was around mid-December, 2003. I told only a few people, but was scared. I went to the doctor, took a test there but it was negative. Tried again a few weeks later and it was positive.
I found out on January 6 that I was having twins and both of their hearts were beating.
There was no joy...at least not from anyone but me. Some people wanted me to abort. Some suggested I give them up for adoption. When I didn't, some said to my mom that she would be the one raising them.
They were wrong.
On July 24, 2004, I gave birth to a boy and a girl, 6.5 weeks early. They've been by my side ever since.
Fast forward to 2008. I met an amazing man and we got married. I found out I was pregnant on October 3, 2008. Having had a successful pregnancy once, I foolishly thought I would be fine. I lost that baby on October 10.
January 3, 2009, I found out I was pregnant and we were cautiously optimistic.
Scratch that...we were terrified. While there was some excitement from my husband's family (he is the baby and last one to have a kid), not so much from my side.
On August 25, 2009, I gave birth to my third and final child. The pregnancy was hard and I didn't want to risk another loss, so I got my tubes tied.
The point in the back story is that I get a little...salty (isn't that what the kids are saying these days?) when I see stories about how happy people are they are pregnant. There are tears of happiness, excitement, joy. I didn't get to experience any of that and I kinda feel robbed. Even now, 11 years after my last positive pregnancy test, I feel a sadness in my heart that I didn't get the kind of happy a lot of people do.
Like I said, I know I should be happy I was able to have kids at all. There are so many people out there that feel like I do, only toward someone like me. They will NEVER feel that, but I got to. I get it and my heart breaks for them. But I don't think I am wrong for feeling like I do.
Has anyone else felt this?
A loss is a loss no matter how many wins you may have had. Losses hurt and they deserve to be grieved. I hate that it robbed your from enjoying what should have been such a happy time in your life. My daughter had twins (boy and girl as well) who were born way to early. They spent months in the NICU. She didn't get to experience things like a baby shower or things like that because she went into labor so early. I was pregnant with twins and lost one during my pregnancy. My son lived while my daughter didn't. My point is that true happiness is often an urban myth and rarely anyone's reality. I'm glad you shared your story.
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