Isn't it pretty to think so?: February 29: The Almost

Calliope has made February 29 a Day of Remembrance for, as she beautifully calls it “The Almost.” I am a day late. Here is my tribute:

After my first loss, I was so naïve…I read how it is normal to have a miscarriage. So many women have losses and go on to have healthy pregnancies. I cried. I sobbed. And then I was relieved. I figured I got mine over with. From here on out…it would be smooth sailing.

After my second loss, I was stunned. Uh oh. Nothing I read said that people have two miscarriages. I cried. I sobbed. I panicked. I made an appointment with an RE.

Next came a battery of tests and a “solution” of daily Lovenox shots, I finally got pregnant again (via IVF)…with twins!!! The perfection of this stunned me. I had lost two, but now I was getting two. I needed to have those losses, because now, each of my babies would have a guardian angel. I was so grateful…for the losses! There is a part of me now, that realizes how screwed up that is. I guess I needed to make sense of it all.

Thank G-d, that pregnancy progressed, and I am a proud mother of twin toddlers. But I will gush about them on another day, because they get gushed about all the time by everyone who meets them, and this is for my babies who will never be met.

In September of 2007, I had an FET. We transferred one blast. Now…this time I never even got a positive pregnancy test, but I still struggle with this. It wasn’t a miscarriage because it was never a pregnancy…but it was the loss of an embryo…the loss of a potential life…a potential child. It still makes me sad, but I don’t think I can count this as an official “loss.”

In November I had another FET. Again one blast. I saw double!! Barely. My beta never got above 38. Did I really have to go through this again? We had a “solution!!” My doctor promised me. Miscarriage #3 ensued.

One more try…this time, put in two embryos. Obviously, my body needed to carry two babies, because trying for just one wasn’t getting us anywhere. And I can have twins…I know that because I did it before. Plus, I was told that all I needed was a little lovenox. It was a no brainer. I got the double line. And it got darker. And I made the mistake of getting excited. We started picking out names. Looking for a bigger house. Planning. It is so dangerous to plan. It is so dangerous to get excited about something that seems so simple for so many other people. Bad news came. And then worse news. And then the final news. On February 29, 2008 I found out without a doubt, that I would be having my fourth miscarriage. And now I’m waiting. I am waiting for my body to expel what it refuses to nurture.

I had dreams of having a big family filled with children and laughter. And my family is filled with laughter…I can’t take that away from them. I know I am blessed. But I am also filled with so many tears. For the children that were supposed to be here. For the ones that I picture in my mind that I will never meet. I am so sad for them. A mother wants nothing more than to do right for her babies, but I can’t do that because I keep killing them. I hate that. I hate myself for it. There is a part of me that hates myself more than I ever thought possible. I want to tell these babies how sorry I am for the life that I cannot give them and for the chances that I have taken away from them: Even though I never held you, heard you, saw you, or kissed you…I hoped for you, I loved you, and I miss you.