Yes, these are Maternity Clothes and, No, I’m Not Pregnant

Shirts hanging in a closet

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.