Trying to Conceive, 30s, Miscarriage
This is the story of one mom's journey trying to conceive a 3rd child in her late 30s. She shares why she wanted a bigger family, how her miscarriage reminded her of life’s fragility, and who helped her through it.
Pam’s Story
In my twenties, my dad was diagnosed with Charcot-Marie-Tooth disorder, a hereditary degenerative neurological disease. I thought I might inherit it so I read up on it and learned fertility might be a big issue for me. I’m a worrier and try to prepare for situations that are beyond my control. Truthfully, my worry was a combo of my mom trying for years to get pregnant with me and me fearing this degenerative neurological disease. I thought I’d get the double whammy of fertility challenges.
I got pregnant within six months of getting married. So that was a nice surprise! Then when my daughter was about 10 months old, I shockingly got pregnant again, accidentally finding out at a routine doctor’s appointment. I never got my period after my daughter was born so they did a pregnancy test, just in case. It was the best gift I ever gave my daughter. They’re 22 months apart, built-in playmates, sisters, which is something that I was always fascinated with when I was little because I have a brother who is six years younger than me.
Growing up, I always liked being around bigger families, the family meals, and a house full of lots of people. So even though I was blessed with two daughters, I wanted more children. I was in my late 30s, around 37 or 38 at the time. I was trying to get pregnant but I was more just letting it happen if it happened. BUT, it just wasn’t happening for a couple of years. And then all of the sudden, when I was trying to conceive one month, I got pregnant.
Oh my gosh, I was SO happy! I was happy with the other two pregnancies but I didn’t realize how much I wanted that third baby until I got pregnant. I was so excited that I even planned a grand reveal for my husband this time around doing this idea I’d read about where you stick a bun in the oven. It totally went over his head and he had no idea why there was a random bun sitting in our oven.
About two to three weeks later, I woke up on my 40th birthday and I was bleeding. I went to the doctor with my husband who took the day off work to celebrate my milestone and a family friend came to watch the girls. I had an ultrasound and there was a very, very, very faint heartbeat. They cautioned that even though there was a heartbeat, with the bleeding and the baby measuring smaller than it should have, it was very unlikely that the baby was viable. I continued to bleed and then several days later I passed the baby. I also had a DNC to make sure everything had passed.
At the time, I felt lonely and isolated because most of my support network didn’t know I was pregnant, and then all of the sudden I was telling them I had had a miscarriage. For it to happen on my 40th birthday was also hard. I felt that age worry set in. I was not in a good place. I was just … I don’t know how to put it in words, I was just so grieving. It’s tricky to unplan, to unsee. Just 6-7 weeks into a pregnancy and you’ve already envisioned this whole life. I told you I was a planner! So working through that was very difficult. My husband didn’t say much. I think he was in shock and then he was sad. But it took him a while. I think his feelings had to marinate for a little bit.
I got pregnant with my third daughter within two months of my miscarriage. Which was crazy after trying to get pregnant for a couple of years and then getting pregnant right away again. I feel incredibly lucky that is how things transpired.
-- Pam V., Virginia
Pam’s Advice:
My advice is to find support in the community. You don’t really realize how many people go through this until you’re going through it. Knowing other people had been through a miscarriage in addition to talking about it helped me a great deal.
A miscarriage is such a jarring feeling. It’s this silent death. Usually, when somebody dies they give you an extra hug. With a miscarriage, people don’t necessarily know people are going through this grief. There’s often no recognition or ritual and that’s really hard.
You learn so much from a miscarriage. There isn’t joy in grief but it opened my eyes in terms of appreciating stuff. I am less bogged down on silly stuff that doesn’t really matter and found a renewed appreciation for every little discovery. Losing a baby reminded me that life is fragile and to enjoy the moments that I have.