Why do we feel scared to talk about fertility issues in public places?
Almost every woman I know has a story to tell. Friends and family who have tried to get pregnant for years, who have miscarried. Again and again. Once, twice, three times.
We are not alone, yet we feel alone.
At what point do we stand up and say, “I’m having trouble getting (staying!) pregnant. I feel worn down and exhausted from months and months of being stuck in the first trimester with nothing to show for it.”
We don’t really talk about it, do we?
I, for one, have never talked about it here on my blog. A huge, giant (!!) part of my life over the past four years that you don’t know about. Because I’ve never had the courage to write about it before.
I’ve often wondered, how many times do I have to miscarry before I feel ready to share it with you? I’ve brushed aside the urge, telling myself that I’ll write about my journey once I have good news, once I make it to the second trimester.
Well, what if I never get to the second trimester again? I’m not saying this looking for reassurance because, quite frankly, neither you nor I can offer any. I may never have another baby again. But we will try and try again because I am willing to do anything to be pregnant again, to give our daughter a sibling, to bring another Spritzer Leyba into this world.
Through all of this, I feel so lucky to have our beautiful daughter and to know know that my body can grow a healthy, beautiful baby. It is possible. I have to hope it will happen again.
Yet I feel so weary and worn down in this journey. Each month, every single time we’ve ever tried, an egg has been fertilized. Yet only once in my life have I been able to stay pregnant. These chemical pregnancies, with a false sense of security as I am pregnant one week but not the next, and miscarriages are mentally and physically exhausting. How many times can we try?
So we are taking a break. For our mental well being, and to give me a rest from the constant morning sickness and hormonal roller-coaster of the last several months.
I will have energy for our daughter. I will have more time for myself, to exercise and eat right and take care of myself.
And each night I will climb into bed and hold fast to my husband and feel grateful for the beautiful life that we have. Because even in the worst of it, life is pretty darn good.
nothing but love. <3
I hear you, Carrie. I do. It’s so hard, and each time my heart breaks. We have given up trying for the same reasons – the hormonal roller-coaster and emotional drain of the loss – but I still hope someday it will happen. I have turned my thoughts for now to other children in need who maybe we can help through fostering and/or adoption. We’ll see what the future holds for us.
Thank you for the courage to write this. It spoke to me so I feel less alone. My thoughts are with you. Good luck.
Oh Carrie. I’m so sorry this has been a struggle for you guys. So many of us have been, or still are, in your shoes, but not many are able to be open and honest about it – and like Kate said, that’s precisely what makes us feel a little less alone in our grief. After my consecutive losses, I read a book called Coming to Term: Uncovering the Truth About Miscarriage, which I found reassuring. Not sure if you’re at a place where you’d want to look into something like that (if you haven’t already) but figured I’d throw it out there just in case. Hugs.
Thank you for being brave enough to discuss this. My heart goes out to you.
Have you listened to this TED talk? http://www.ted.com/talks/rufus_griscom_alisa_volkman_let_s_talk_parenting_taboos.html One of the taboos they discuss is about the secrecy of miscarriage. Why don’t women talk about this?? Why do we feel like we have to hide it? After my miscarriage I felt a failure, mostly because I didn’t know other women had suffered through that type of loss. Thanks for sharing–I’m sure many women will take solace in your words.
Oh Carrie, thank you for sharing with us! I can only imagine how hard this is for you, and it’s something that women should share and talk about. My sister is having fertility problems too, and it is so hard. I guess we all just assume everything will work fine, after so many years of worrying in college about NOT getting pregnant. Anyway, thank you for speaking out, stay happy and strong and full of love! Hugs!
Next I see you, you are going to get the biggest hug from me!
Stay strong my friend!
Love you!
Love you dear friend! What a brave post! I hope you feel wrapped in love from all the many people who adore your family! I hope in sharing your journey you find some comfort.
Love and Hugs! xoxo
What do you say when people ask if you’re going to have any more? Maybe? I hope so? We’re trying but it’s not working? What’s the right answer to that? And what do you say when you start crying when a friend tells you she’s pregnant the day after you find out you’re not anymore? When will that stop hurting (even when you’re genuinely happy for your friend)?
Thank you for being so honest – I really do believe other women will be relieved and comforted to hear your words. I love you and I’m thinking of you.
This is beautifully written and so moving. I’m so sorry about your losses. I hope that speaking about this will bring a small measure of peace to you. My thoughts are with you.
The bravest, most beautiful post. One day, those of us who have not yet tried to have children may find ourselves in your place, and because of your courage and honesty in posting we will know that we are not alone. One of so many gifts you’ve shared through this site. Thank you, Carrie. Love and hugs.
Big big hugs!
I’m so sorry, Carrie. Recurrent pregnancy loss is terrible. We had a miscarriage and a chemical pregnancy during the almost two years before we conceived our baby, and that was the darkest time in my life. I’m so grateful for him every day and know I want to have another child in the future– but I worry about surviving more losses.
Finding a support group helped me stay sane. I hope that opening up about these struggles also helps you.
Carrie, I’m so terribly sorry to hear this. I don’t think there are any words of comfort that actually help, but I have a feeling many will find solace, and possibly camaraderie, with your words. Wishing you strength and peace, and the courage to try again!
You are so brave xx
Thank you for this post Carrie. My heart goes out to you. I suffered a miscarriage, at nearly 9 weeks of pregnancy, just a couple weeks ago. I have managed to get back to things fairly well, but the loss was such a jolt. I was there, not being able to fit into my clothes, talking to my belly, feeling ill every morning and then, suddenly, was thrust back into my ordinary life, as if nothing had ever happened.
Oh Sweetie, I’m so sorry. I think taking a break is good. There were 5 years between you and Laura, so we will hope and love you. Patty
I’m so sorry, Carrie. A break sounds like a good idea for your sanity. I wish you health and hope.
All the love in the universe to you, my courageous friend.
Hi Carrie – Props to you for sharing your very real fears and bravely continuing on. One of my best gf’s devoted a whole blog to her infertility and her struggles with telling people, with not telling people, with anything & everything. Now, after reading yours too, what strikes me is the uncomfortable silence and pervasive isolation women experience — its awful! But you’ve broken the spell and I hope that gives you some comfort. Best and hugs, Lottie
What wonderful friends you have! Sending much love and hugs to you and David ~
<3 ! And big big hugs.
You are one of the bravest, strongest, most inspiring women I know, and I love you so so immensely.
I love you so much and you are the bravest person I know. Don’t ever give up hope!
My midwife once said: it doesn’t matter how long, even if you were pregnant for 1 day, it still hurts and it’s ok. That was after my first miscarriage. It’s true that there is some comfort in knowing we are not alone. Thank you for the post, I am so grateful to know you. Love.
Beautifully written, Carrie! Big hugs!
i have been SO SHOCKED to learn how frequently women go through this, now that my friends are in the child-having (or trying-for-child-having) portion of their lives. and when one woman brings it up, so many others speak up with similar experiences. but overall, no one seems to know this is so common – i certainly wouldn’t have if i didn’t have such candid friends. i hope your beautiful post helps other women who might be feeling alone xoxo
I love you guys! Thinking of you a lot!
This WAS my story. I was pregnant 3 times in 2008. January, June, December. After the first, I thought, “something with th egg just wasn’t right,” but there was a name and an attachment. I didn’t know things weren’t ok till 12 weeks or so.
Then next pregnancy, I had 2 ultasounds with no development, around 10 weeks. I was worried about it. I thought it was from the surgery for the first or trying too soon (3 month interval). I went to accupuncture and received holistic treatments and felt better.
I was a basket case for the third miscarriage. [a lot of emotions and thoughts and beliefs and prayers and questions].
I decided to give up my stay at home life and get away from all of the pregnant friends who had kids Ripley’s age.
I worked for 1 year and decided to get a test, a hystriscope, a camera inside to seek out a potential problem. I had to be ovulating for the test.
My husband assumed that the test meant we were trying again. Bam, I was pregnant. I was afraid and freaked out until the third trimester.
Now, almost 2012, the horribleness of 2008 is still a huge part of my life. I understand when my friends fade. I know they are experiencing loss. I hope that soon the will get what they need. I believe that the soul that was trying to come through was waiting for me to be ready to handle him. That God was shuffling the pieces to make way for my gift-even if my beautiful children are 5 and a half years apart.
I love you Carrie. Please hold onto your hope.