My subsequent pregnancy after miscarriage(s)

Some time ago I had already written about my early miscarriage. An experience that has shaped and shaken me very much. After this miscarriage, which I wrote about in the article, I had two more miscarriages.

I would like to tell you about them briefly here. But first and foremost, I want to talk about how the subsequent pregnancy was for me after these miscarriages. In the meantime, my daughter was born healthy. But more about that later.

Once again briefly, as already written, about my miscarriages. The first miscarriage, which I also wrote about in the mentioned article, I had in the fifth week of pregnancy. So it was really very early. If we hadn't had a concrete desire to have children and therefore I hadn't tested extra early, I probably wouldn't have even noticed that I was pregnant.

I would have simply noticed a bleeding that was delayed by a few days, which was minimally stronger than what I usually knew from my period.

A few months later, I became pregnant again. I was thrilled to be pregnant. The months until then were unbearable. Every time I got my period, the disappointment of seeing the blood in the toilet. I didn't want to resign myself to the fact that it wasn't going to work, but it was a wrench for me.

When it finally did, I was so happy. Yet in our case it was really only a few months, which is little compared to many other couples who want a baby.

The day I had the miscarriage in the last pregnancy was very difficult for me. After that day, I felt lighter. I felt that this time everything would go well. Inside, I probably had the fear of another miscarriage. However, since I had read statistics on the frequency of miscarriages, I was aware that it is usually a one-time miscarriage. Most of the time, it is also not possible to find out why the miscarriage occurred.

So I was optimistic. Until the time when I had slightly bloody mucus. I called my gynecologist directly this time and she prescribed progesterone. I was so scared.

Unfortunately, the spotting didn't decrease, it increased. The next day it wasn't spotting anymore either, but period heavy bleeding. With this, it was clear to me that I would not be able to stop the miscarriage. I was so sad. Again.

Anyway, we decided to keep trying. The desire for another child was still there, even though I now had less confidence that everything would go easily and without complications.

A few months later, the time had come again: I was pregnant again. But I will keep it short at this point. After a few weeks had passed without any difficulties, I felt more confident than in the early days, when I was afraid every day of another miscarriage.

In the eighth week of pregnancy, my midwife did a first check-up and took my blood. The values were good for the time being, and the pregnancy hormone was also in line with the week, although rather in the lower range. This immediately unsettled me, because I had hoped that it would be really nice and high.

In the ninth week or so, I had the feeling that something was wrong. I had a funny feeling, but everyone assured me that I was sure everything was fine. Shortly after that, we all got Corona. While I was having Corona, I felt bad. I had to lie down for several days, I could hardly do anything. And I was getting spotting. I was already taking progesterone the whole pregnancy, so I couldn't try that in addition.

The cough from the infection put additional pressure on my pelvic floor. The spotting became heavier and eventually was not spotting, but period heavy bleeding. I stopped the progesterone in consultation with my midwife. I didn't want to delay anything. I didn't want to wait any longer. It was clear to me that my baby was dead.

After about two days, I had a lot of downward pressure at night. I went to the bathroom and my baby was born. My midwife came by the next day and we looked at the baby. She confirmed what I had been feeling: this baby had not died at the eleventh week of pregnancy, but about two weeks earlier.

Now we didn't want to try again for the time being. The fear of another loss was too great. The insecurity was too deep. If we were to try again, I wanted to do it with the support of a fertility clinic to find out what could be a possible cause for the miscarriages and also to be able to monitor the hormone levels more closely in the event of another pregnancy.

But things turned out differently. Just two cycles later, I was pregnant again. Not planned. The anticipation was great. So was the fear.

I decided against any preventive care in the first trimester. I didn't want an ultrasound, blood work check, abdominal palpation, or anything like that. I just wanted that time to myself. I didn't want to be confused by any readings. I took progesterone again, as it was recommended. I did nothing else. In case of an imminent miscarriage, there was nothing more I could do anyway.

But nothing happened. I started feeling nauseous after a few weeks. The nausea was so strong that I became increasingly optimistic. I had only felt the nausea so strongly in the pregnancies with my living children. I took that as a good sign.

And indeed it was. The weeks passed and finally the dreaded first trimester was behind me. Time went by sometimes faster, sometimes slower. Sometimes I was very afraid, sometimes I was full of hope and optimism.

I arranged a first check-up appointment for the 14th week of pregnancy with my midwife, who had accompanied me during my miscarriages and the pregnancy with my daughter. I was finally feverishly anticipating this appointment. I wanted to finally hear the heart sounds. I wanted to know confirmed what I had been feeling: that all was well.

The heart sounds were there. They were loud and strong. I was relieved. I was happy and shed a few tears of joy. I could hardly believe we had made it this far. I stopped taking the progesterone now.

The anxiety was now a little less, but it remained. Every time I felt a tugging in my abdomen, I was afraid of bleeding again. But the continued nausea gave me some security, even though it was incredibly exhausting in everyday life with two children.

After the screening appointment, we told our children about the pregnancy. My daughter was very happy, my son was rather indifferent. But all the feelings were allowed to be there.

I also booked an online course on birth preparation with hypnosis, namely The Peaceful Birth by Kristin Graf, who also has a podcast with the same name.

I did the hypnoses from the course very regularly. They helped me to relax. To get in touch with my baby and reduce the anxiety. She wasn't gone. But I did not expect that at all after the experiences I had to go through in the last year.

The weeks went by and I made an appointment for a second trimester ultrasound screening. I did all the other screenings with my midwife.

The day of the ultrasound screening came. I was excited and didn't feel like going to the appointment. For me, nothing connected those black and white images to my child. It was so foreign to me. I was glad that my husband was at least allowed to be there for the screening itself, if not the rest of the exams.

At the ultrasound, everything was fine. There were no organ abnormalities that would stand in the way of a home birth. I was relieved. That was actually the only thing I wanted to know. What was also important to my midwife. We didn't let her tell us the sex. My husband, however, said that he had seen something. I had deliberately not looked at the screen at this point. Well, we will see. Anyway, he didn't want to tell me.

When I reached the 24th week of pregnancy, I lost some of my anxiety again. My baby would now be theoretically viable. Of course, it would still be much too early for birth, it would be an extreme premature and the chances would not be good. However, from day to day they were getting better, which made it easier for me.

However, I continued to be afraid with every tug that something would be wrong. At the same time, I felt like I had a good connection with my baby and my body. I felt like everything would be fine and yet there was this fear that I couldn't stop.

In the 28th or 29th week of pregnancy, I had strong waves of exercise. And immediately the anxiety was incredible. While I had been doing a lot of manual work on our addition in the last few weeks, now, when I wasn't working or the kids were with me, I was lying in bed a lot, doing hypnosis and resting. The fear of a premature birth almost ate me up.

During yoga, which I also did with my midwife, my midwife felt for our baby. The head was in contact with the pelvis, but that is perfectly fine at that week of pregnancy. So it hadn't slipped any lower than it should have at that point. I was relieved.

Nevertheless, I continued to rest, withdrawing from labor more and more. My midwife was also now coming regularly for massages. The massage did me good and made me relax. The conversations did me just as much good. My midwife said that it was quite normal for me to be anxious and that it would be rather surprising if I were completely relaxed. After all, the miscarriage experience cannot be undone and simply leaves its mark, whether I want it to or not.

After the 32nd week of pregnancy, things settled down in my belly again. The waves of exercise subsided, which gave me more security again. In the meantime, the heartburn and the pressure on my ribs came. I could hardly sit and could hardly fall asleep in the evening.

In the meantime, I also had another appointment for an ultrasound. My midwife needed an entry of the position in the mother's passport for the birth. Otherwise, I would not have kept this appointment. Fortunately, I was able to refuse without long discussions, the weight check, the CTG and the sugar test.

My baby's position, as I already knew from my palpation and that of my midwife, was optimal for birth. Now I would only have to go to the doctor's office for one more checkup, as long as I hadn't given birth at least ten days past my due date. I just hoped that my baby would decide to make her way to us sooner.

Meanwhile, I was feverishly anticipating the call. Only a few more weeks and my baby would likely be born at home, at gestational week 37+0. That was the next step we needed to take.

It was also becoming increasingly difficult for me. This pregnancy was so much more exhausting for me than the pregnancies with my two living children. I was much more tired, exhausted more quickly, and I felt my physical limits much more quickly. This time, however, I also had two children who challenged me. We had the work on the annex, which had to be at least habitable until the birth if possible, and I had my self-employment, where I worked until just before the birth.

Finally, I had reached the day of the start of the on-call period and I was incredibly relieved. My midwife was now massaging my belly as well as my back. Our baby should be coming now. However, I still didn't believe that it would be that close in time.

Towards the end of the 39th week of pregnancy, I was incredibly annoyed. I just didn't want to do it anymore. I had such strong waves of exercise with downward pressure that I wondered many a time if the birth would start. But it became more, it didn't become regular. So these waves of exercise kept me awake only some nights, as it had already been with my daughter.

And so once again I woke up from such practice waves, couldn't fall asleep, went to the bathroom. This time I had the feeling that it was not only practice, but that soon it would be real birth waves. And I was right. My daughter was born that day. She is healthy and we had a wonderful birth, which I will report about in more detail at some point.

The pregnancy after the three miscarriages we had experienced was marked by many feelings. I was often very scared. Then I was full of anticipation, hope and optimism again. These feelings could change very quickly. I was also quickly unsettled. And in the end I am glad that everything went so well. I am incredibly grateful for that.

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