Conversations with people lately seem to always end up in “all you need now is the boy” or “how many kids do you want?” or “trying for any more?”. These are all innocent questions that open wounds for me. I try to smile, or say something like “who knows”. But for someone who has, or is, struggling with infertility or miscarriage(s), I know you understand my pain. I wish those types of questions would stop.
I’m a mother of spunky little girls, and I wear the “girl mom” crown with pride. My husband and I became pregnant with our first child in 2012. This was no surprise to us as we had it in our plans to start a family. I wish you could’ve seen our young, excited faces when we found out we would be a family of three [insert cute photo here with first sono]. Unfortunately, I don’t have any photos to share with you, because 3 months later, I deleted all photos of my life from September through December of 2012. It was a hard and trying time and we were devastated to have lost our first child. Just last month, I found myself, for the hundredth time, looking through photos hoping to find just one.
In 2013, we became pregnant again. When I found out she was a girl, I cried happy tears the entire day. I was ready for the oversized headbands, bows and tutus. During my 36 weeks’ checkup with our doctor of maternal fetal medicine, he noticed something wasn’t right. My umbilical cord stopped giving nutrients to my baby and measurements of the baby’s head and body were not where they should be. First question that came to mind was will she be OK? We planned for a C-section that same week but our daughter had other plans, I went into labor on my own the next day. She was a tiny four-pound baby. My miracle RAINBOW baby! By the way, it’s taken me six years to be able to talk or write publicly about our miscarriage.
In 2015, we had a SURPRISE pregnancy. I always used to tell myself, what do people mean surprise? How did you not know that could happen? Well, I found out first-hand! After 2 high-risk pregnancies, I was concerned. I couldn’t control all the what-ifs spiraling out of control in my head. I wanted a healthy baby and a healthy momma.
My pregnancy went smooth up until the dreaded 36 weeks’ mark. Everything seemed to be fine, except for this terrible itch I had on my hands and feet. I didn’t think it was a big deal considering I was in my last few weeks of pregnancy and figured itching anywhere was normal at this point, but later that day as I was scrolling through Facebook, I came upon a blog post titled “the deadly itch”. This woman also had itchy hands during pregnancy and encouraged all pregnant women experiencing the same to let their doctor know immediately and how doing so saved her child’s life.
I called the doctor a minute after reading the post and she had me come in that same day for testing. I received a call the next morning confirming I was positive for Cholestasis. As healthline reports, “it’s a severe itching in the third trimester that might be caused by intrahepatic cholestasis of pregnancy (IPC) or obstetric cholestasis” – basically a liver disease caused by pregnancy. This changed everything for us. My doctor told me I had to get induced due to a serious risk of stillbirth. We quickly went into a very painful and complicated labor. I’m happy to tell you I now have a healthy second baby girl.
So, you see, when you ask me if I’m trying for the boy, OR if I want 10 kids, the reality of my situation is I’m enjoying the two girls God has gifted me with! By the way, I also have TONS of nephews and awesome boys in my life I love as my own.
P.s. I believe that painful conversations at the right time with the right individuals ARE a part of the healing process.