When we got back to the Midwest we were busy with the move and looking for fertility specialists was the last thing on my mind. Heck finding a GYN wasn’t a priority, until Erica came along. We had only been in Michigan for a couple of weeks and I can hardly remember the details of discovering I was pregnant again. Mostly I remember that while this time I had insurance, our California PPO wasn’t accepted in Michigan. Oh crud. Quickie search for a local policy with no preexisting pregnancy exclusions and off to the doc I go. This time will be different, this time I have insurance, this time I’m going to the doctor right away, yes it’s been six years since my first pregnancy, but that’s not unheard of, my mom had those kinds of gaps between us. With four kids and four miscarriages over a twenty year span this sort of thing runs in the family, but there are four of us!! Yep, little Erica Marie, moving to Michigan was just the ticket, maybe it was simply the stress after all.
We lost Erica much earlier than Katie. I was no sooner to the doctor than I was spotting and she was gone. I didn’t even need the RhoGAM shot this time. Off we went to the fertility specialists once again. This was the first practice that discussed IVF with us. Of course they wanted to retest all that had been done in LA, but I just could not get comfortable with IVF, so we did not even proceed with any of the preliminary treatments. I’m not sure why it just never sat well with me, perhaps it was the factory environment, perhaps the retesting seamed a bit to money driven to me, I’m really not sure.
My solution to the loss of our second child was to numb the pain in work. Our business needed a lot of attention, startups are kind of like toddlers, they are all over the place and need constant supervision, so supervise I did. We settled into Midwestern life, Hubby simply chose not to leave the house for the entire first winter, and as always life marched on. The second summer rolled around and once again a glimmer of hope, the EPT says we are preggers again!! This time I not only have insurance in place, but the best fertility doctors too! Up to A squared to confirm and to take whatever progesterone shots or whatever, blah, blah, blah they say.
The doc does the ultrasound and confirms the pregnancy asks about day count and says the embryo is a little small but that I might just have my days wrong. This one we though was a girl also, but I was getting nervous about names so we just called her Cricket. I called her my little Cricket, I guess because the doc said she was little. I still call her my little Cricket, maybe because she was the last. My sister in law and I were pregnant at the same time that summer. She spotted a bit with Tommy, but he’s with us the little wild man, my little Cricket is not.
Sometimes I am so angry with my body I can’t even begin to peek at that emotion. How could you betray me like this? How could you let my babies die? Why aren’t they here with us? I’m living with the enemy, the killer of my children, tied in symbiosis with their murder for life. Hubby says I’m being to harsh on myself, I didn’t elect to lose our children and I didn’t do anything to cause the miscarriages. He never says get over it, but he does point out the obvious, that if I trust in God for everything else I don’t get to opt out of this and take on this burden personally. Nevertheless, I sometimes do.
As often happens when I am wrestling with an issue I don’t quite understand God will guide me to the answer. This article covers a lot of ground, but the last section really hit the nail on the head.
Lord, I don’t quite understand, teach me to forgive and embrace this cross. Amen.
Spouses who still suffer from infertility after exhausting legitimate
medical procedures should unite themselves with the Lord’s cross, the source of all spiritual fecundity. They can give expression to their generosity by
adopting abandoned children or performing demanding services for others (CCC
2379). Forgiveness is the fruit of prayer, which is also a gift of
infertility. Without prayer, the heart will never be able to discover, as one
anonymous infertile woman puts it, that God is enough to love.