This morning I read a post about miscarriage. A post that detailed the traumatising occurrence of events one woman lived through and I had to stop reading.
We recently started discussing having a third baby, but I’m not sure I’m strong enough to go through anymore heartache, worry and anxiety. You see, I’ve had three miscarriages, three children taken from me before they took their first breath. Three times I’ve sat stony faced, while a women looked at me sympathetically and told me there was nothing there. Three times I’ve asked if they could be wrong, if there is any glimmer of a chance that their machines have missed something and three times a women looked at me sympathetically and told me there wasn’t.
But I do count myself lucky, because I have managed to take two children to full term and those children are now my life. I breath them in, watch them grow and love them unconditionally. But I know my body didn’t fully protect my babies before they took their first breath, in fact it could have stopped them ever taking that first breath at all. During pregnancy I develop a condition called cholestatis, it is a condition in pregnancy that stops the woman’s liver functioning properly and can cause stillbirth.
At the end of my pregnancies with my two children, I’ve watched my movements so closely and panicked if I thought I haven’t felt them kick for longer than I’m comfortable with. I’ve spent many a night rushing to the hospital because I’m so sure the movements have slowed and I’ve been so beside myself with the idea that my body hasn’t protected them as it should do.
I’ve gone through two inductions because of the risks attached to cholestatis, which has led to two traumatising labours. Two traumatising labours which make me so thankful for every medical professional who knew how to react and get my children into the world safely, so they could take their first breath and become a part of my world. Oliver’s heart started to slow during his labour and Elijah had a shoulder dystocia during his. I know their labours could have been very different and I am thankful every day that they weren’t.
I’m scared to go through pregnancy and labour again, I’m scared something bad will happen and that my heart won’t be able to take any more pain. I’m scared that my body can’t do it and I’m scared because if my body can’t, I’m not sure I can recover from it. I’m envious of all of my friends who are filled with excitement at the prospect of having another baby, don’t worry when they see those two lines appear on their pregnancy test and don’t question if they will get to their first scan. They are anxious about labour because they know how painful it is, but they aren’t scared that their baby won’t ever make it, that their body can’t do it and I’m envious of that.
I want to prepare for a third baby, because I’ve always dreamed of three children, I love being a Mum and I know I’m good at being one. But I’m scared and I’m not sure how long it will take to not be.