Miscarriage After Miscarriage

Shared by Darlene Parks

I had always wanted a real family: a husband, kids, and a home of our own. I met the man who would be my husband, and after he proposed we discussed children. He was in agreement. All my dreams of a family were coming true, especially after buying our first house. Little did I know that the inception of pregnancy would also subject me to heartache and loss.

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About a year and a half after we got married, I experienced my first pregnancy. I was ecstatic. However, at the end of my first trimester I had a miscarriage. Being a nurse, I knew that these things can happen. My doctor told me it was a blighted ovum, which is when a fertilized egg doesn't develop into an embryo. I might have been more devastated had I carried the baby longer, but with my pragmatic outlook as both a nurse and a spiritual person, I took this as a sign: my body knew things were not right, and it terminated the pregnancy.

Around a year later, I became pregnant again. This time I felt a little trepidation, but more so, I was hopeful this one would “take.” Again, at the end of the first trimester, I miscarried. The cause for this miscarriage was a Hydatidiform Mole, which is a benign (non-cancerous) tumor, or an abnormal mass of cysts. However, if the mole is not completely removed, the condition can persist (along with vaginal bleeding), or it can turn into a type of cancer—called choriocarcinoma—which can spread to other organs. My doctor diligently monitored my pregnancy hormone level to make sure it came down as expected. The level did come back down to normal. If not, I may have needed chemotherapy or a even hysterectomy to get rid of the rest of the abnormal cells. 

Hesitant Hope

I became pregnant again for the third time, maybe a year or less later. This time, despite knowing my body knew when something didn’t develop properly, I was fearful I might never be able to have a baby and carry it through a normal pregnancy. I didn’t even tell people until after I passed the three-month mark. Even then, I was still afraid to hope for a normal pregnancy. It was probably around the six-month mark that I really dared to hope for a full-term birth. All was progressing as expected: my belly was getting bigger, heart tones were normal, and I believe I felt some movement. The nesting syndrome started to kick in, and I could finally start getting the nursery ready, so I was very busy doing that. I am happy to report that I gave birth to our son—a very healthy 9 pounds and 14.5 ounces, and that weight was after a good bowel movement!

I became pregnant again around a year later, and miscarried right around the end of the first trimester. This third time was another blighted ovum. I was disappointed and worried that our son would be an only child. I did not want that, since I was an only child, and hated it most of my life. It was lonely, especially if the weather was too bad to go outside and play, or your friends were all busy with other things, especially family things, and I had nobody my age or close to it in my own home to play with. I had to face the fact that maybe the one child I had might be as good as it gets. 

Two years after our son was born, I gave birth to a little girl, this time 7 pounds and 14 ounces. Again, I had to hold my excitement until I passed from the first and into the second trimester. After this pregnancy, my husband and I decided not to try to have any more. I felt my body had been through enough, and with the emotional turmoil from the second and third miscarriages, and then being fearful for being able to carry a babe full term, it was just too much to cope with. 

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My Family Forever

Though I was happy and content, being blessed with a boy and a girl, and the family I had hoped for was complete, I haven’t forgotten the children that never were. I read with interest the book Heaven is for Real, by Todd Burpo. Toward the end, the child speaks of meeting a sister who was never born, and whom the parents had never told him about. I was shocked when I read this. It never occurred to me that I may yet still have the opportunity to meet my unborn children in Heaven. At least this is my hope, and another reason I have for wanting to go there.

 
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