Why Not Me?

Christmas is one of my favorite times of year. I love the ornaments and the baking and the shopping and the decorating. But I especially love the hope that seems to prevail during the month between Thanksgiving and New Years Day. Its almost tangible. Like the ringing of the Salvation Army bells it is unavoidable in the chilly air.

The last 17 months have brought sadness into our home four times. The most recent event being this last week and was confirmed this afternoon. Is it considered infertility if you can get pregnant but not stay that way? I haven't talked a lot about this mainly because it seems really personal but I feel compelled to go into it now.

The first miscarriage was July 2008. We found out the day before Dustin's cousin died in a plane crash and eagerly told both our families, including the young nieces and nephews over the phone. Two weeks later we were making another phone call to tell everyone we had lost the baby. A fluke, bad timing, won't happen again.

January 2009 came the second pregnancy. Still with no reason to be concerned, the first dr's appointment was made for the 8 week mark. The Friday before that appointment, I had some spotting and trip to the Emergency Room told us two things. One, the ER will do absolutely nothing and two, there wasn't a heartbeat at almost 8 weeks. There should have been one and my low hcg numbers verified it.

The second loss, and a doctor switch, lead to some testing and we learned that I have several clotting disorders. MTHFR hetero, lupus anticoagulant and plasminogen activator inhibitor. Essentially my blood clots into little tiny clots that don't do any harm in my veins but will prevent an embryo from being able to attach to the uterus and carry a pregnancy. Treatment is a baby aspirin a day and folic acid pills to start with Lovenox or Heparin shots after a heartbeat is detected and the pregnancy is viewed as viable. Lovenox and Heparin are blood thinners and should thin the blood enough to let it easily pass through the embryo's tiny system.

We learned we were pregnant in May 2009. But we had a plan! We knew what had caused the others and this one would be different. This one would work! We had a heartbeat at 6 weeks and I started giving myself shots every day. My abdomen looked like a punching bag but it didn't matter. The baby was growing and had a personality. She would hide from the ultrasound technician like a little stinker and we finally thought this was it.

At a routine check-up at 15 weeks, the heartbeat was gone. Our world imploded on itself and all we could do was cling to each other. Tests were supposed to be run but there was a miscommunication about what was ordered so we never found out what had happened. The likely possibility is the Lovenox wasn't a high enough dosage and clots formed between the placenta and the uterus choking the blood flow. We decided it was a girl and let Alex name her Daisy.

Again, it was a fluke. We'll up the dosage for any other pregnancies. We'll start other medications sooner. It will be the right time. It will work.

We decided to start trying as soon as we could. My age would only become a bigger obstacle the longer we waited and the desire to have a sibling for Alex was huge. But the heartache of losing three made us pause. When would we stop? At what point does the heartbreak overcome the desire for a baby?

Thats the hardest question a couple in this situation can face. Will the next one be it? What if we started the shots as soon as a positive test was shown? What if I'm on blood thinners constantly with the hope it will help? If we stop now, will we be denying a spirit the right to come to our home? The home of a righteous priesthood holder and members of the Church?

We found out I was pregnant again the weekend before Thanksgiving. I made doctor's appointments and they saw me almost immediately. On December 7th, I had an appointment with the specialist to see if there was a heartbeat. They didn't find one but it was still early. Blood work was ordered to check my hcg levels and progesterone. On Thursday we learned they hadn't doubled like they should and the progesterone was low. I started on a supplement (bringing my total pills daily to 11) and we prayed. Prayed for a miracle and for the numbers to be wrong.

Today we found out that there was no miracle. Another early loss. And I'm surrounded by babies and pregnant women. Women on a mom's board I belonged to that are due the same month I was due with Daisy. Women with babies who were born the same month I was due with the first two. And Alex telling me he's tired of being a "lonely" child and he would have been a great big brother and would have taken really good care of Daisy.

A friend of mine posted on her blog a few months ago about the Why Me? syndrome. Why do bad things happen to me? I'm a good person. We go to church and pay our tithing. I teach Primary. We do a lot of what we're supposed to (that darn Visiting Teaching is hard) and its not fair that there are so many people having children only to abuse and neglect them.

But what about Why Not Me? Her point is that none of us has done anything to exclude the trials of this life. Why shouldn't I be given this trial? Some people have monetary trials and some have abusive childhoods and some have lost their husbands too soon and others have fallen prey to adultery or pornography or alcohol or drugs. I'm fortunate that I have a husband who loves me, a really great son, we both have good jobs and cars that work. We're able to afford some luxuries and dinner out when we want it. Why would I be exempt from challenges? What makes us so special?

Everyone has trials. I guess the reason I'm posting this is to let the few readers I have know that everyone has something sucky going on. We're all in crisis mode and the pain of losing the babies doesn't ever go away. I just get better at hiding it. I'll never be able to feel the euphoria of getting a positive pregnancy test without also feeling the terror that we'll lose another one but another friend of mine once told me to enjoy each baby for the time that you have them. One day they'll be ours again.