I hesitate to even write this post. And maybe that’s why I actually wrote it over six months ago — right after I found out I was pregnant again — and I’m just now coming back to post it, at almost 38 weeks pregnant.
This is the type of post that years ago would’ve either given me hope or made me angry. Or some combination of both — maybe made me hopeful for a time, until the timing that seemed to end up working out so perfectly for this hypothetical person on the internet — a first ultrasound for a new baby on what would’ve been her due date — didn’t work out for me. And I’d wonder why everything seemed to work out for everyone else except for me. Because how many times had I counted out the days, thinking it would be great timing to find out about a pregnancy on a certain date? Only to have that date come and go, finding out instead that I was not pregnant…or that I had lost that baby with what I thought was the perfect due date (the first day of Spring Break — a teacher’s dream!). I haven’t forgotten that perspective. But while I hesitate to write this post, I’ve always liked following people’s stories too. And there’s a certain solidarity that you find with others who’ve walked the road of infertility and miscarriage too, so despite my jealousy, I was always happy for those I read about who had a successful pregnancy following infertility and miscarriage. So with those disclaimers in mind, here is that post:
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[Disclaimer: I am not a doctor or medical practitioner. Any medical information is strictly my opinion based on research and personal experience, and not to be taken as advice. Always seek the advice of a licensed physician for your medical needs. Read my full disclaimer here.]
Getting Pregnant
A month or so ago — as I was about to turn my calendar to March, the month of what was supposed to be my due date — I wrote about a post about still not being pregnant. About how difficult it is to have your former due date approaching, and to still not be pregnant amidst everyone’s declarations that it’s easier to get pregnant after miscarriage and everyone gets pregnant again right away. About the illogical pressure you put on yourself to at least be pregnant by your due date, so that somehow it will make things easier.
When I wrote that post, I had lost hope that I would be pregnant by my due date. I was in the middle of the last cycle that would make it possible for me to be pregnant by my due date — and we didn’t think we’d really try that cycle, because I had a D + C scheduled during it. Since the bleeding during my cycle was still irregular without explanation (even after ultrasounds appeared normal) almost six months after my miscarriage, my D + C was scheduled to hopefully help “reset” my system.
But then a couple of things happened.
Acupuncture
First, I tried acupuncture that cycle. But to be honest, I was pretty skeptical about it. My acupuncturist somehow seemed to be so optimistic that I would get pregnant that cycle, even though I told her my history. By chance (not that I think it really was by chance), I went a couple of days before I thought I’d ovulate. The acupuncturist said that was just the best timing and thought I planned it. I’d be lying if I said that her excitement didn’t make me just a little bit more hopeful — even though, when I didn’t end up ovulating until day 20, I lost all hope again.
Late ovulation
And that’s the second thing. The other three times I’ve gotten pregnant in the last six years, it has only ever been when I’ve ovulated on day 14. It seems that every couple of cycles I ovulate a day or so later than day 14, and I just feel like that timing doesn’t work. This time was an all-time late ovulation. The result of that was this: Although we had kind of decided we wouldn’t try that cycle, I was figuring with an ovulation on day 14 I’d know if I was pregnant or not by the time of the D + C date. So we technically could try that cycle and know by the D + C date if I was pregnant. But when I didn’t ovulate until day 20, I realized we wouldn’t know for sure whether or not we were pregnant by the D + C date. It would be too early for a positive pregnancy test…even though I could technically have conceived already. But then again, what were the chances I could get pregnant with such a late ovulation?
I really struggled with whether or not to go through with that D + C. My bleeding the previous cycle had seemed like maybe it was trending back towards normal for the first time since my miscarriage. But then I ovulated so abnormally late. And then I talked to a few ladies who had gone through infertility and miscarriages and eventually had successful pregnancies, and they all advised me to go through with the D + C. They had gotten pregnant right after. Should we try this cycle? Should we not? When you’ve been trying so long, what’s another month to wait?
To try this cycle…or not?
And then one more thing happened. If you read my most recent post about my miscarriage, you might remember that I mentioned hearing the song Desert Road, by Casting Crowns, an unusual number of times — almost every time I was in the car. As soon as I published that post, my mom texted me something as I was in the church sanctuary getting ready for Bible study: Sometimes life springs up even in the desert. And when I got that text, I inexplicably had a conviction that I was meant to get pregnant that cycle. I don’t mean to say that I heard a voice from heaven, or that I was sure beyond a doubt that I would get pregnant. In fact, I questioned it — was this just an emotional feeling, or a conviction that actually was from the Holy Spirit? There had been other cycles I had been sure I was or would get pregnant. Was this just that same feeling that would end with me being disappointed? If I didn’t go through with the D + C this cycle and then still ended up needing it, was I just wasting this cycle that was so unlikely I’d get pregnant with such a late ovulation anyway?
I never did feel completely convicted either way. But as my dad likes to say, indecision is a decision, and when we ended up deciding to try to get pregnant that cycle, I knew I couldn’t possibly go through with the D + C on the off chance I could possibly be pregnant and not know it yet.
And so it happened that a couple of days after that D + C was scheduled to take place that I ended up cancelling, I was frustrated I hadn’t gotten my period yet. I wanted to start over and see if my bleeding was still trending towards normal. Of course, I’d be lying if I said it never crossed my mind that I could be pregnant — when you go through infertility even on the most unlikeliest of cycles you somehow still always have the tiniest shred of hope in the back of your mind — but I honestly didn’t think so. Instead, I was actually more concerned that my cycle was even more messed up than I thought. Eventually I got to the point where I didn’t even want to take a pregnancy test — I knew I would either be pregnant, which seemed to me to be unlikely, or my cycle was so screwed up that maybe my period was stopping altogether. Since I really didn’t feel pregnant (I always like to think I would have some sort of sixth sense that would tell me), I became convinced the latter was the case.
When my husband finally convinced me to take a test, I knew I would already be almost 5 weeks along if it were positive. Of course that doesn’t seem like much, but if you track everything like I do, you could really find out at 3.5 weeks most of the time (which is when I found out with my other 3 pregnancies).
The test was immediately positive.
I almost didn’t want to get my hopes up. To be honest, I wasn’t sure if the pregnancy would last. Surely something was wrong since I ovulated so late?
But you remember the song Desert Road? From the moment my mom had texted me that, I never heard the song again. I took it as a good sign. But I’m telling you, it was bizarre — to go from hearing that song multiple times a day (and not intentionally, just turning on the radio and hearing it) for weeks, to not hearing it at all for weeks. Literally.
That is, until we were in the car on our way to our first ultrasound at 7 weeks, on what had previously been my due date for the baby I miscarried.
Viability Appointment
I didn’t know if I was just in denial — and maybe this song was warning me that we weren’t going to get good news and I was trying to ignore it — but the song had a different effect on me this time.
It reminded me of my favorite passage in the Bible, once again, with Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego. Where they pray in the fiery furnace that God can save them, but that even if He doesn’t, He’s still good.
That’s the attitude I’ve been striving to have — sometimes successfully and sometimes not — throughout all of this infertility and miscarriage stuff. No matter what, God is still good. I even imagined getting bad news that day, and saying that in my head. God would still be good, no matter what.
I don’t know where this is going
But I know who holds my hand
What I remembered this time about that story, is that God did, in fact, end up saving Shadrach, Meshach, and Adednego from the fiery furnace.
And so I realized that just because it is my mantra that God is still good no matter what happens, that doesn’t mean that He’ll never answer my prayers in the way that I hope.
We ended up getting good news at that seven week appointment: the baby was measuring right on track. I’ll be 36 weeks this Wednesday.
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