Fertility--again

I had another miscarriage today. That's 3 this year and 6 total, if you're counting (I am). Sometimes people don't write or talk about these things. Some people don't tell even family members they have miscarried or even that they are pregnant until they are showing so much that it's become obvious to anyone. I don't know why that is. Tradition, I guess. In fact, on a lot of online pregnancy sites that follow a pregnancy week by week, they assign you a certain week (usually in the 2nd trimester) during which "you can start telling people that you are pregnant." Pregnancy loss and even infertility seem to continue to be taboo in our modern society. I understand that we shouldn't ask questions about when people will become or if people are pregnant, but it's strange that no one talks about it from a personal perspective.

We're almost 18 months into trying to add to our family. It hasn't been easy to get pregnant, it hasn't been easy to stay pregnant. I've talked about it (a lot, maybe too much) within my circle of friends from the beginning, and very recently with extended family members (whom I've seen a lot more lately because of the deaths of our grandparents). The surprising thing that I've heard from a lot of them is "Me too."

Why do we do this? Why do we keep heartache to ourselves? I understand that it's a private thing, but sharing can also be beneficial to everyone. Finding out what worked for my blood relatives may very easily help me. And even if it doesn't help, it's nice to know that I'm not alone. We share failures and tips for cooking, child-raising, and crafting, so it's funny that we keep this to ourselves. Again, I know it's a deeply personal thing, but I've been so surprised time and time again to hear how much people have struggled with fertility issues, and I never even knew.

Anyway, I'm going to share, because I know it helps me to know that other people are going through the same thing, and maybe it will help someone to read this. Skip it if you want.

I saw an OB this morning. It was shocking to me that they wanted me to come in. Every other time I've had a miscarriage the nurse has just said, "There's nothing you can do. Lie down if you want, but we can't stop it. It's not worth coming in." He saw us immediately after we got there, and after explaining my situation and that this was the 6th loss I've had, each time within ten days of getting a positive pregnancy test, he agreed that I have a problem. I've spoken to a number of doctors about this, and he was the very first one to affirm my belief that something is wrong. Every other doctor and nurse has given me the speech about how "these things happen...it's good that our bodies reject pregnancies that aren't perfect." He did an ultrasound even though there was nothing to see as I'm not even 5 weeks. He took almost 10 vials of blood to test and will take more on Monday. He said his initial guess is that I have a clotting disorder, but he'll call me Wednesday with the results. He was super nice and told me he'd make sure I knew before Thanksgiving so that I'd have answers before seeing everyone for the holiday. He seemed positive that we could find and fix the problem, and made sure we knew that we weren't technically "infertile" because I get pregnant, it's just likely a health problem preventing me from staying pregnant. It's kind of a relief, but makes me nervous to see what they find.

This year has obviously been a hard year for us. We lost a baby in January, grandma and grandpa in February, another grandpa in April, another baby in May, another grandpa in October, and now this. But we are learning a lot too. Our pain and loss has given us cause for some deep soul-searching and faith-finding. Our perspective of life and our priorities have slowly shifted and become more eternally focused. We have hopefully become more grateful, more empathetic, more compassionate, and more humble. Easy? No. Worth it? Painfully so, but Yes.

I find my mind constantly going to the quote I've seen on Pinterest lately that says, "Faith in God includes faith in His timing." I've been a huge proponent of this theory, especially when it comes to the timing of the birth of my other children, but it's hard to apply while in the situation of waiting for more children. But I'm choosing to believe in His timing. At our Regional Conference a few weeks ago Elder Jensen said something like, "We need to weigh out the reasons to believe and the reasons not to believe, then we need to choose to believe. If we do that the Holy Ghost can confirm the belief in our hearts." I'm choosing to believe because I want to believe, and because I'm clinging to that belief with all the hope I have.

In the meantime I've also learned to enjoy my kids even more. Sometimes as we go places or do things; and especially during the long, hot, fun- and roller-coaster-filled days at Lagoon during the summer and fall; I've felt the spirit whispering to me that these moments of pure joy wouldn't be happening in the exact same way if I were pregnant or if we had a newborn. I've been able to enjoy the freedom and fun of having a four- and six-year-old without having to pay attention to a baby. We are nap and diaper free. My kids feed themselves. They put their own pajamas on. They usually sleep through the night. Kyle gets me all to himself while Claire is at school. There are a lot of good things in my life right now without a baby. But still we hope.