Afraid

Scooter is pretty much back on an even keel, other than the sniffles he has picked up (oh, the joys of his being back in a school setting). That has helped me find my footing again. Which has also allowed me to analyze what I said last week about rethinking a second child.

I want a second child.

I know that after thinking on this. I want a second child, but I am afraid.

The miscarriages rattled me. The first one was bad enough, the second practically unhinged me. I am afraid that a third would break me.

There are plenty of articles out there that give the chances of a second miscarriage and then a third. Most try to be positive and point out just how unlikely it is. But I know my body pretty well; I'm generally correct about what's wrong with it. And both times I felt like it was my body that failed.

Since the second loss, I've come up with two likely reasons for the miscarriages. One can be tested for before my next try, one can only be diagnosed during pregnancy.

I've made an appointment for a general exam next week, at which I will ask about being tested for celiac disease. I've seen mixed scientific information about the role of gluten allergy in fertility, but there is some thought that women with untreated celiac are more likely to miscarry. There is also plenty of anecdotal evidence to suggest that celiac can be somewhat dormant for several years and will then flare up with trauma to the body. Such as giving birth. Since we're already mostly gluten-free, I would just have to pay more attention to cross-contamination and focus on keeping my diet clean.

The other possibility, the one that I wouldn't be able to address beforehand, frightens me more. I worry that my body and the placenta were not producing enough progesterone, that I simply could not sustain the pregnancies. If this is the case, I will need frequent monitoring, lots of blood draws, progesterone suppositories--and opinion is divided as to whether or not any of this will make a difference.

Another dimension of the fear comes from the fact that we are down to three "pop-sicles." Three chances left with the donor we chose after much consideration. And we have three only because we bought the last two available last year after already putting six into storage. I never expected us to need more than four. It would not be the end of the world if we had to start over and choose a new donor, I just never expected this to be a door we might face.

I will push on, I will see what I can figure out with my doctors' help. I have become certain of these things in the past few days. But I also know I will be fighting fears the whole way there.