12 Weeks

Today my baby would have made it to the 12 weeks milestone. That was when Steve and I had decided to start announcing to the world that we were pregnant. I am surprised by the amount of sadness I feel today. I knew I would be heartbroken (and my just-yesterday-D&C certainly didn't help), but I am completely out of sorts. I can't concentrate and all I keep thinking about is how this journey is going to end.

Compounding my troubles, I got a very depressing call this morning. I was excited to have a "Plan" in place that allowed me at least a tiny bit of control over this process and maybe just a little bit of hope. I had an appointment set up for tomorrow with a fertility clinic that my friend Gwen (who has been through this process a lot longer than I have, with one beautiful boy to thank for it), had recommended. It turns out my insurance doesn't even cover the initial consult, much less ANY fertility treatment!

I am going through all the stages of grief and loss, I can tell: denial, anger, bargaining, depression...I sure haven't made it to acceptance yet. At what point should I give up? I keep thinking of the women I have heard of who have healthy babies in their 40's. I keep thinking of how easily I conceive and how perfect my first three pregnancies were (which, truth be told, they shouldn't even be compared to my situation now because I was 33 with my last daughter, and I am 43 now...a BIG difference, I am told). I am angry that none of my doctors mentioned that I should conceive before I turn 35 (and I specifically told them I wanted to have another child later in life)! Last night I found myself hunting through the Bible because I remembered stories of women who were "barren" that God gave beautiful sons to (Sarah, Hannah and Rebecca). So I am sitting there bargaining with God "Just let me have one more healthy child and I promise I will be a better Christian", etc. I know it doesn't really work that way, but it sure can't hurt to pray, right?

I thought that I would have more options or at least more informaton available to me by going to the fertility clinic. I can't afford to pay for it out-of-pocket. Now it just feels like my only choice is to keep getting pregnant and pray each time that I get a good egg. I estimate that I have 2-3 more chances before my next birthday. I suspect that the more miscarriages I have, the lower my odds get each time for a successful pregnancy. I think I can handle the heartbreak, but I don't know who to go to for support. My OB doctor certainly isn't helpful. My Mom is sick with cancer and I don't want to burden her further. I want to keep most of my pain from my husband so that he won't decide to give up. I don't want to bother Gwen too much, since it seems selfish of me to want another child when I have three already and she had to work so hard for her one miracle. I feel so alone.