Still Waiting For The Storm to Pass

Pregnancy after loss is a coveted thing. I think it’s normal to long for a baby when you’ve lost one. It isn’t just wanting what you’ve lost, though. You’ve spent time preparing your heart and home and mind and world to accommodate another person, a tiny person who will need you. And then they are gone but they’ve left an empty hole. You have all this energy to devote to mothering and no one to use it for. It’s frustrating. It’s even more frustrating when you realize pregnancy after loss is not necessarily the end of the storm.

For me, I lost Baby B at 7 weeks and then I waited and prayed and hoped and it took 3 years to conceive. Then I lost Maggie full term. And then I waited and prayed and hoped and it took 8 months to conceive. Then I lost Ruth at 12 weeks and almost died in the process. And then I waited and prayed and hoped and it took 4 months to conceive and here I am now, 27 weeks pregnant with my first (confirmed) boy and my 9th confirmed pregnancy. And the storm continues.

It has been a long, hard process and I feel like I’ve learned a lot through it. I wanted to take a moment and pass some of what I’ve learned on to those who are still waiting for their rainbow (and possibly for myself to read later when I need the reminder, as I often do). It is a beautiful experience and worth anticipating, for sure, but it isn’t all good. You don’t get a rainbow without going through a storm and the storm isn’t over until you’re holding your rainbow.

You see, pregnancy after a loss is not the same as pregnancy before a loss. Your naïveté is gone. There are so many ways this reality rears it’s ugly head. Here are just a few:

• Panty checks. Pregnancy tends to make it a little moister down there, but after a loss every bit of moisture can send you to the bathroom for a panty check just to make sure there is no blood. This also makes wearing pink or red or stained undies a bad idea because it can cause panic where none is warranted.
• Toilet paper checks. Scrutinizing after every wipe to make sure there’s no telltale tinge of red.
• Anxiety, worry, pessimism. Whatever you want to call it, it’s the contestant feeling that something might be wrong. Which is completely reasonable because something has been wrong before so something could go wrong again.
• Questioning everything. “Should I feel kicks by now? I don’t. Does that mean something is wrong?” “Baby is kicking more/less than usual. Does that mean something is wrong?” Basically wondering if everything that happens means something is wrong. Or if whatever you are doing could cause something to go wrong. Because something has gone wrong before. You not only know it’s possible, you’ve felt it happen in the past. That is a hard thing to forget. You may feel the need to prepare for “worst case scenarios” because you’ve already lived one or more of those.
• Difficulty connecting and feeling excited even if everyone else you know is excited for you. Because you know how quickly it can go wrong. You can’t feel the excitement without an edge of worry with it. If you acknowledge the excitement, you may feel the need to also acknowledge the worry that the excitement won’t last, if not to others then at least to yourself.
• Anxiety before doctor appointments. A feeling of foreboding like maybe this is that visit where they will say the words you dread the most “there is no heartbeat.”
• Hesitation. Hesitation announcing the pregnancy. Hesitation about accepting hand me downs or gifts. Hesitation about having a baby shower and really celebrating. Because what do you do with all of the baby supplies if this baby doesn’t make it?
• The ability to go from calm to panicked any time there is any hint of something being wrong. Because you have a foundation of worry already that it is easy to build on. Google is not your friend. Statistics do not help you when you’ve already been part of the 1% who experience a late term stillbirth or part of the 25% who’ve experienced a miscarriage.

If you’ve experienced any of these, please know that it is completely normal. If you’ve experienced all of these, you are not alone. I have experienced all of these. Sometimes all in one day.

Fear and anxiety are my constant companions and with each pregnancy and each loss it gets worse. Because that foundation of fear and worry gets thicker and bigger and stronger each time. The struggle is real.

What can you do about it? While nothing can completely erase all the worries and anxiety, there are some things that can help:

1. Accept that your feelings are a normal response to grief and loss. Feeling them is the only way to process them. Burying them and denying them just delays processing them. If there’s any way to get past them you must first process through them.
2. Buy some new panties. Not white or pink or red.
3. Remind yourself that as far as you know everything is ok at this moment. As many times a day as you need to, remind yourself of this.
4. Find a doctor who understands your concerns and is willing to see you as often as you need to. If there is any reason for concern, call your doctor and let him reassure you or work you in to check and make sure everything is ok. If your doctor is understanding of your fertility history, he will have no problem working you in to reassure you.
5. Find a support group. Search for Pregnancy After Loss Support. It helps knowing there are others who are experiencing the same thing you are. It helps to have a safe place to share your concerns with people who understand. It helps to talk and not hold it all in. Some hospitals have local PALS groups, too, so you can see someone who understands face to face when you need to. Some of them even match up moms who’ve been there with moms who are there. Kind of like a mentoring thing.
6. Blog or journal or (even better) find a friend in real life who you can talk to. There are so many people who have felt this pain and anxiety. It helps to get it out on paper or on screen but being eye to eye with someone who understands and is willing to walk this journey with you helps, too.

Fertility issues are hard. Including the rainbow pregnancy. The hard part doesn’t stop when egg meets sperm. It only changes from anxiety over if and when conception will occur to anxiety over if and when loss will occur. And that is normal.

But it is also normal not to know what’s normal for you until you’re in the midst of it. I think pregnancy after loss is much like grieving. Everyone does it differently, there is no set time line and no right or wrong way to do it. We are all just stranded in the wilderness trying to find or make a path. Trying to enjoy this experience as much as possible as long as it lasts. Hoping that it lasts this time. Unable to forget the time(s) before.

Whether you are still waiting and hoping and praying for your rainbow, baking your rainbow or holding your rainbow, I wish you the best. It’s a hard journey every step of the way and you aren’t alone. There are more people who have walked in these shoes before you and with you than you know. Don’t be afraid to find some. It helps to have a tribe. It helps to know you aren’t going through the storm alone.

At least, it helps me. And I hope it will help you, too.

God bless you on your fertility journey. May you find what helps you heal. We can wait for the storm to pass together if you want. . .