I’ve heard this word many times in my life.  Always feeling that it was far from me, removed from my life, something I would never experience.  Sort of how I felt about infertility years before I knew the pain myself.  My friends have had miscarriages, I’ve read many stories about miscarriages, even listened to songs about it.  One of the reasons I never imagined this word associated with myself is because for so long, pregnancy felt beyond unattainable for me.  After trying to conceive for over three years, the thought of ever seeing a positive pregnancy test was merely a dream. And once it finally happened, I could not imagine the thought of losing those precious bundle of cells, whom my husband and I had already nicknamed Austin.  I had never come close to pregnancy up until now, despite multiple IUI’s, IVF’s, trying, and trying.


How do you recover from a miscarriage?

I’ve cried, I’ve spoken, I’ve meditated, and I’ve now written.  I’m trying to forgive, I’m trying to release, I’m trying to live and love again.  It feels like it would be easier to give up, walk away from the memory of it all, and head to a place where kids don’t exist.  Sadly, this land is not one that has meaning for me.


No one can understand the pain of fertility nor the pain of a pregnancy loss- unless you’ve been through it yourself.  I have no words of wisdom for anyone going through this.  I wish I did.  I wish I had answers instead of tears.



How can one “do anymore” to get pregnant?


Trying to have a baby can seem like a second job- on top of your already fully packed schedule.   Pregnancy diets, doctors appointments, fertility yoga, acupuncture, massage, injections, supplements, visualizations, emotional freedom technique, shamanism, therapy, journaling, researching all take up so much time (and the list goes on).  I stopped working full time, I’ve pulled out of relationships that don’t serve me anymore, I’ve figured out what doesn’t work for me (still trying to figure out what does work for me,) and I’ve re-focused my values.  If not being able to get pregnant has done anything, it’s given me a pass to do more of what I want to do, not what others think I should do or follow one’s unrealistic expectations of what you’re supposed to do.

Someday I hope to understand all of this.  Find that there is a reason, see that I can look at what happened and find peace or understanding.


Until then, I will strive on.  I will forgive myself, release the imperfections of life, attempt to connect with life’s purpose, and embrace the smallness of being.  I will laugh, I will smile, I will give up the notion that I am unlucky.  I will continue my acupuncture, eat my real food (always), talk to my therapist, build my relationships, honour my body, and relax my mind.  If I need to do nothing, I promise that I will work on that too.


So, I may need to take a step backwards, pause, and absorb what I can.  I may need to eat a bag of potato chips, munch on two cookies, drink wine, and shed tears again and again.  Then I will take a deep breath, hold my hand out tight for my future and dive right back in again.