I’ve tried my best and intend to try again but it’s harder after each loss

After recently experiencing a third miscarriage, Megan has written a powerful blog about her journey. In this second chapter she describes the way early testing, lots of Googling, and being very in tune with your body can combine to create extra early-pregnancy anxiety, and why she hopes now to ‘step off a tightrope’ and find some inner-peace.

Read the first part of Megan's story here

My mum, my confidante in all areas of life, identified me being hyper-vigilant as the cause behind my stress and anxiety - and that was without her seeing my Google search history. 

One thing she constantly says is “these days people find out too early.”  

Mum was a nurse in the 1980s and ‘90s and testing technology has advanced since then; so much so that an early pregnancy test can now detect HCG levels from one week of pregnancy.  

I see her point. If we’re tracking pregnancy that early, that’s a long 37 weeks ahead of us. On the other hand, if we find out we’re pregnant at around 10-12 weeks, like my mum and most women she treated on the OBGYN wards did, then the first trimester is wrapped up and done. That’s the first 10-12 weeks of anxiety, Googling and checking for blood, taken out of the pregnancy experience.  

The internet means we can choose to be more informed about the pregnancy process.  

In this last pregnancy I knew when I ovulated, it was a planned conception and I knew when to expect my period. Some of us are very in-tune with our own bodies. For example, I suspected I could’ve been pregnant at around 3 weeks because I was able to draw on the experience of my last pregnancies - incredibly sore boobs and the ability to detect smells like a Bloodhound!  

So, I took a test which was faintly positive and 3 days later my period didn’t come. By 4 weeks I was told to expect a miscarriage. When you know your body or you can track your menstrual cycle on an app, it’s inevitable that you’ll find out early.  

I’ve been pregnant 3 times. I can’t avoid knowing. So, next time how do I continue without worrying or subconsciously waiting for a miscarriage? I feel I can no longer attach myself to my pregnancy or bond with the growing baby inside because, for me, it has made losing them harder.  

After the first cute pregnancy announcement of ‘Born in 2014’ baby socks it’s hard to authentically commit to it again; it’s too painful for Grandma and Grandpa to be repeatedly let down or to say: “sorry, you’re not going to be an uncle anymore” and “sorry you don’t have any cousins on your father’s side”.  

I’ve tried my best and intend to try again but it’s harder after each loss. 

It’s harder to find the courage and strength to face what could happen. The courage to feel happy and positive if there’s a next pregnancy. Excitement no longer comes into it.  

And how about having the self-acceptance and confidence to reconnect with your partner and enjoy intimacy after a loss? To be intimate is to be vulnerable and to be vulnerable takes courage. After each pregnancy loss I felt my inner power, my Boss Babe energy, my womanhood, falter and fade. 

How can I feel sexy and empowered when my womb won’t work? I don’t want to get naked, I want to cocoon my body in a big, thick woollen blanket thank you very much! I want to exist in my Comfort Zone until I can slowly and compassionately start to put my pieces back together. But what do those pieces even look like? Where would I even start? These are the questions that prompted me to ask myself: “What did I love about me when I was the best version of myself?”. Drawing on that has become my starting point 

I’m so tired and bored of working on myself, deep diving and analysing. 

It feels like I’m looking down constantly. I want to look up and use the motivation of my Boss-Babe-Best-Self to step into the bigger picture. I want to enjoy the gift of freedom. Freedom to do the things I couldn’t do if I was pregnant, or if I’d had those 3 babies. So that’s what I’ll do.  

As for the aching hole in my heart and echoing space in my body; I trust they’ll heal in time and the pain will fade. It always does. For now, I’m stepping off my tightrope, abandoning it, in fact. Freedom includes taking risks, spontaneity and having new experiences. These are things that bring me those beautiful, liberating feelings of peace and gratitude, contentment for my health, my life and the people that I share it with.  

I’m sure that if I can be in this physical and mental state, the perfect chromosome combination will find their way to me and I will know about it at the right time.