Expecting Salvation: My Seventh Pregnancy
Expecting Salvation, a Sunday series on my pregnancies, births and losses.
“All the soarings of my mind begin in my blood.” – Rainer Maria Rilke
Kris and I decided to conceive a second child immediately after my period returned in October, 2010. Arlo was 10 months old. We would give it until summer on our own then return to IVF. Despite our previous challenges and being 40, I had every belief in the world I would be one of those recently infertile women who immediately became pregnant again. We were nailing my ovulation dates month after month but found no success. There was a time when I couldn’t stop getting pregnant but that time had clearly passed.
Still living in Bermuda with no IVF/RE available, we turned to a clinic in New Jersey because my in-laws live there and because this particular clinic had a relationship with a Bermudian OBGYN. Things were meant to be easier. Perhaps I’ll write a series on IVF specifically, but for now I will just say that doing IVF away from my home and husband but with my toddler, was one of the loneliest and lowest times in my life.
As much as I believed I would immediately get pregnant after Arlo, I sure as hellfire believed it would happen if we returned to IVF. Emotional fortitude and physical perseverance paid off.
I did not fear when the nurse called and gave me the news that my test was positive but with a low number. Every pregnancy starts somewhere. What if I was a day off with my testing? What if their numbers were wrong? IVF worked last time didn’t it? There are a million scenarios for justifying what I hoped to be true.
The truth is that this was another one lost, another one taken.
The truth is that this one hurt just like all the rest but you see me with my child and wonder, what could be so bad?
This pregnancy, this time, the news came to me on a playground. My son was piling pebbles on the bottom of a slide. I was in the middle of snacks and hats and chase and wiggles. “I’m sorry. You can expect to bleed in a day or two,” the nurse reported. Smile. Everything is okay! Mommy is okay! Do you want to go on black swing? Come on! Black swing!
The first miscarriage I endured sober.
A family member said “Just be grateful for the one you do have.”
True, but allow me a moment please.