One year and three months ago I found out my baby had died inside me. I had a D&C as my body froze up in disbelief and refused to let go. I was then was advised to wait three months before trying again. I was supposed to be thirteen weeks pregnant but my baby measured ten weeks plus five days.
One year ago today, my third post-miscarriage cycle was complete and a new one had just begun. We were getting ready to have a few friends over for New Year’s Eve, and I was going to have a few drinks as I wasn’t ovulating until around the fifth of January. I had a bender that night and although it was still shadowed with sadness, lots of cuddles with our two boys, time with good friends, and a few laughs it was really good for me. That night was the last time I felt tipsy.
I’m happy to report that this year, I still cannot have a heavy night on the Strawberry Daiquiris because I am breastfeeding our four-month-old baby girl (she was conceived in the first days of 2014 and arrived four weeks early for those doing the maths). This year though, I’m filled with sadness and uncertainty. I always wanted four children; my husband was happy to stop after our two boys. Our baby girl was our compromise. But how do I know we’re finished? When I was pregnant this last time I vowed I would never go through it again. Every scan terrified me. Every symptom had me worried, every lack of symptom had me picturing that still lifeless figure of a baby on the ultrasound screen … I just never wanted to go through it again. We also just do not have the room for another child. I thought I was OK with that, but now I’m not so sure.
I know I should be grateful for even having the choice to try again. Many people are not so lucky. Some have one child but run into roadblocks on number two, and many don’t even have that chance. I am eternally grateful for the three beautiful children I have and I feel like I should just listen to hubby and stop pondering another … but I can’t help wonder if I’m going to regret not having that one last baby when I’m old and wrinkly.
I’ve googled and even good old Mr Google doesn’t have the answer. The internet is just flooded with many more women asking the same one. How do we know when we’re done? Will I ever know?