Trying to Conceive

So sorry for not writing more. Life has been...busy.

Fair warning - this is going to be an emotional post.

Getting pregnant is a scientific miracle. There's  a scientific reason for how it happens but, for me, it's like finding a needle in a haystack - which makes it a miracle.

Before hubs and I got married, I was told that it was going to take me a long time to get pregnant so I should start before getting married. Mind you, I was living in Israel and my OB/GYN was relatively conservative and religious. But he wasn't dumb. We weren't really trying but we weren't "not" trying, either. I miscarried a few months before my wedding. I told no one - not even hubs.

The next time I miscarried was right after our honeymoon and hubs was in Miluim (reserve duty in the Israeli Defense Forces). Again, I told no one. I was already freaking out that my husband was playing with landmines for a few weeks - I didn't want to deal with people's sympathies.

The third time I miscarried I mentioned it to my friend, and then co-worker, Jay. He told our bosses. I was working while miscarrying. My bosses thought the stress from work was too much for me and they gave me three days leave, at their expense.

A few months later, we were supposed to start down the path of hormone therapy when I found out I was pregnant, again, and this time it stuck. Six years later, looking back on that time, I admire my own strength. We didn't tell my family (except my sisters) until my grandmother had a stroke and I thought the family needed to hear good news. I also didn't want to surprise them when I flew in a few days later.

When I got pregnant with kid #2 I wasn't even trying. We moved to the U.S. a few months before, I was interviewing for jobs so I didn't have to continue working freelance. I found out I was pregnant the week after I started working at my current job. I was scared shitless. I went from being elated that my first pregnancy stuck to terrified that I was pregnant. In the end, my grandfather calmed me down and said "every child brings his or her own luck" - and he was right.

Hubs and I decided to wait a few years before trying for our last child. Between having dysautonomia and trying to get somewhat healthy, the last thing I felt like doing was having sex and getting pregnant. So, we waited and we recently started trying, again.

I miscarried in February. Again, I worked through it - only telling a few people at work that I came in contact with, daily. I was heartbroken. I still am. And then I wrestled with my own demons. I asked myself "why do I want to do this to my body?" "isn't my life hectic enough as-is?" "shouldn't I just devote more time to the kids I have?" "am I healthy enough for this??"

In my dysautonomia groups, women were chiming in on other posts from people revealing they are pregnant. They were saying things like "I could never even think of getting pregnant if there was a chance I could pass this along to my kids!" But, for someone like me, there was little to no-chance of that happening. I acquired this disorder, I wasn't born with it. No one in my family has this disorder, or even had it. But the comments still hurt and made the guilt of wanting to get pregnant even worse.

Then my kids started asking for a little sister. Specifically a sister. How do you explain to preschoolers how the reproductive process works? You don't. I just told them "we're trying". But now I'm having a hard time conceiving. My current OB/GYN doesn't know enough about dysautonomia to tell me if it's harder this time because of this disorder. All she tells me is do more yoga and meditate to destress.

I'm not going the route of saying I have fertility issues. I have friends who have been trying to conceive for years, to no avail. I feel for them. My heart truly aches for them. And I pray for them.

For me, after wrestling with my demons, I know I want this baby - regardless of any setback I may have within my health. I'm just as strong now as I was seven  years ago, but I've been through a hell of a lot more. At the end of the day, I'd just like my body to start working, again. I still yearn for normalcy - even just a little bit. Even if this part is just that little bit.