The Fifth loss

This week was the end of my fifth pregnancy. I had to say goodbye to all of my hopes of having a successful pregnancy and I had to accept that it was over for me.

If you have ever been in my shoes and have so un-patiently waited for the follow up ultrasound from such a horrible and ugly ultrasound; then you would understand the slight bit of hope that creeps into your mind. There are moments when I think that the ultrasound machine could have been wrong and just didn’t see the heartbeat and couldn’t have fully registered the size of my baby. I go on countless blogs and read about missed diagnosed missed miscarriages. I read all of the stories about women who had early ultrasounds that gave them false information and they went on to have successful pregnancies. I give myself hope that I am one of those ladies and that I could have that miracle. But, in the end that is not me. It has never been me.

I had a follow up ultrasound this week just to confirm what we already knew, that my baby no longer had a heartbeat and stopped growing around two weeks ago. I always give myself false hope in those seconds between getting on the table and my doctor doing an ultrasound. Even when we ran the second ultrasound this week I thought for a second that I could be that miracle. And, then as I said before, I am always let down. With every follow up ultrasound comes such deep despair. A realization that I may never be that miracle.

My follow up ultrasound to confirm what I already knew.

Since my body wasn’t able to do what it was supposed to do in this situation I was registered to go to the hospital to help my body along. And, you know what my paperwork said when I signed in? It read missed abortion. Yep, that’s right..the word abortion. Like I was there of my own choosing to end this pregnancy. How hurtful are those words for someone who has no other option and who has been trying so hard to have a successful pregnancy. There was no mention that I had done IVF and how much this pregnancy was wanted. Just the ugly words….missed abortion. Each nurse I encountered asked me why I was there and all I could muster up was that I was pregnant, my body chose to stop being pregnant, and I needed help. Each time I held back the tears and told the nurse how offensive the words “missed abortion” were.

Now, I have no issue with women choosing their right as I believe it is up to each individual. However, I do have an issue with those words being printed across my paper work when I have no other option. I did not choose to be there. I paid thousands of dollars to not be there and to grow this baby, but god had other plans for me.

So, now I am back home trying to figure out how to move on with my life. How does one move on from five miscarriages? Do I give up and look into surrogacy or adoption? Or, do I keep fighting and get the answers I deserve?

XO