Miscarriage Broke Me More Than I Thought Possible

We had to wait over the weekend and I’ve never felt more blessed to be in the middle of a house renovation, with ample distraction to pass the time. We both ignored it as much as we could just to get through. Right before my surgery is when I finally broke. I had said goodbye to my partner and was wheeled away, waiting. I wish I could remember the name of the anaesthetist who held me in my hospital bed while I cried. I’ve never been so grateful in my life.

‌Being pregnant again is all I could think about

‌Lots of people get pregnant straight after a miscarriage and plenty of people I knew had. I devoured these stories, thinking “it is going to be me, everything is going to be alright again.”

Before my miscarriage, we approached pregnancy as realists would. If it happens, great. If it doesn’t, and it turns out something is wrong, it’s a good thing we’re starting now. We had the view that it could take months or it could take years and knew full well that there would be bumps along the way but after my miscarriage, being pregnant is all I wanted.

Some people grieve for the baby they were going to have because they wanted that baby. But for me, I just wanted to be pregnant again. Now that I’d had a whiff of pregnancy, I wanted it again so bad. I felt like time had been stolen from me; during those weeks I was waiting for scans, I could’ve been ovulating. They were now missed opportunities and I felt that I needed to be pregnant again so it was like no time had passed.

Everyone was getting pregnant but me

‌The months kept rolling and I was tracking my ovulation and using the sticks. Each month I tried something new, from seed cycling and fertility lubricant to the sperm meets egg method. I devoured endless podcasts, bought a BBT thermometer and began using it religiously. Still, no lines.

I had never been one to notice other people’s pregnancy announcements before my miscarriage but now they were everywhere. Few acknowledging those who may be struggling, many not. Neither right or wrong, I knew. The one that did sting was a friend who knew my story and also had their own. I still don’t know what the right way is to share such news—when one of you gets to leave the trenches—but I do know the wrong way is not acknowledging someone’s feelings at all. When something is consuming your entire world, validation from those close to you can go a long way.

Ignorance is bliss but not very helpful

‌When I wasn’t trying for a baby, I’d never given my fertility much thought. I had known people who had struggled, had miscarriages, spent years trying with nothing to show for it, yet I still remained uneducated about my cycle and how making a baby actually works. I had been on the pill since my teens and I’d never had any problems. After my miscarriage, my period returned but my cycles were long, irregular and impossible to predict. You only have 12 chances a year to get pregnant… if you’re having a period each month. With some of my cycles going for 40 plus days, those chances were fewer and each extended wait teased a possibility.


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