I was around twenty-one when I discovered I was pregnant. I took a home test and backed it up with going to the Dr. for a test. I started prenatal vitamins, all the stuff women have to do when they’re pregnant. All was going well until I hit three months and eleven days. I started bleeding and having really bad pains and cramps. I was taken to the ER and they did some checks and admitted me to the hospital. They kept me overnight. I was completely alone. I miscarried.

When I met my husband and we were dating, I asked him “the hard questions”. I asked him if he wanted more kids. That could be a deal breaker to me if he would have said no because I wanted kids sooooo bad. I knew a no was a possibility since he’s already had kids. I’m not exactly sure what year, but shortly after we got married we learned I was pregnant. My second pregnancy. It started out the same as before. I had to find an Ob Gyn. I started the prenatal care. About two weeks after my appointment I started bleeding. Dr. Gibbons, my Ob Gyn, got me in pretty quick and let me know I was miscarrying.

A third time was not the charm. But it took three times for any tests to be able to be done. They checked my female parts. They checked my RH Factor. Since we were trying I had to check my basil body temperature to figure out when we could try. What they call the most fertile days of the month. They’ve since been dubbed as X days. Nothing seemed out of whack or wrong. I didn’t have any issues with RH Factor. Dr. Gibbons had a game plan in a snap of a finger. That fast!

Three more times ended in miscarriages. One of those got me a ride in the ambulance from Aurora to Springfield because they thought I had a tubal pregnancy. But what ended up happening was a miscarriage. We decided to stop trying after that. Six was enough. I wasn’t sure I could take anymore loses.

In 2010, I found myself in the lobby of my college campus doubled over in pain. I waited for my husband to come to take me to the ER. They ran tests and told me I was miscarrying. My seventh. I didn’t even suspect since we weren’t trying.

Throughout the years, I have really rough moments. I can’t think about babies without soaking myself in tears. I get through it with the support of my loving and understanding husband. I get extremely upset about people that have kids but clearly don’t want them. Having grandkids has helped. They help fill that void. We talked about adopting and really considered it. But then things happen in life that causes things to be post-poned. Now, I think it’s meant to be that we didn’t. I believe everything happens for a reason. We might not always know the reason and aren’t meant to know sometimes no matter how unfair it seems. I’ve learned to look forward and accept what is as it is.