
After my first miscarriage, I thought the only thing that would heal me would be to fall pregnant again.
Then, I did fall pregnant again. But, the memory of miscarriage did not disappear. If anything, it only magnified.
After my second miscarriage, I thought the only thing that would heal me would be to NOT fall pregnant again.
We did not rule out the possibility of having a bigger family, but I needed some time to let my body recover.
It was a relief to press pause on the monthly cycle of trying to get pregnant, the two-week wait to find out if we passed the pee-on-a-stick test. The heavy heart when we did not, the excitement when we did; and the dread that followed when I remembered that my last pregnancy miscarried and there was a 60% chance that this one would too.
I enjoyed the freedom of not trying, not knowing, not caring.
Weeks turned into months, months turned into a year, a year turned into almost two, and at some point along the way, I stopped thinking about getting pregnant again at all.
I enjoyed making plans, knowing I could commit to them. I turned 40 and raised many glasses of champagne to the next decade. I ate pate, soft cheese and runny eggs; and I booked trips away knowing I would be able to take them.
We got on with our lives, released from the chains of trying, of knowing, of caring.
Miscarriage, although will never be completely free from my thoughts, is no longer consuming them.
Until, someone asks when we will try again. Or, someone else comments that children need a sibling. Or, our son wants to know where his little brother or sister is. Then, it all simmers to the surface once more and our safe little bubble of happy bursts.
It seems everyone wants to know what our decision is.
Will knowing our decision make it easier for us, or easier for them?
Maybe there is no big decision to make, no heart wrenching conversation to have, nor any metaphorical door to close.
Maybe it just is what it is. We have moved on to a brighter place without ceremony or parade.
Don’t be sad because you think we have given up on the dream of a bigger family, be happy we found a way to let it go.
*****
*Cries a little bit again.* This post is beautiful x
Author
thank you my love xx
This is such a wonderful post. I have felt the same way. Wondering why so many people kept asking us why we weren’t trying again. After 3 miscarriages, I needed a break and during that break I realised that we do have a wonderful family. I wish it had been bigger but I am so grateful to have the daughter that I do that I can’t ask for more. Then by complete surprise I fell pregnant again and lost it, the 4th one. I think this broke me more than the other three and I now know 100% that I am not going to try again. My body and my mind cannot take it again. I have asked friends not to keep trying to talk me into trying again that they need to respect our decision. As to strangers that ask me constantly why we only have one, I used to say “Oh I’m hoping to have more”. Now I’m just blunt and say “because I’ve lost 4 babies” and that shuts them up!
Author
I’m so sorry to hear about number 4 and understand why you have reached the decision you have. Being blunt is probably the easiest way to stop people asking and I might give it a try next time 🙂
Aww Sarah. A lovely post and I think some things just … organically turn out the way they do. Completely different, but I didn’t think I’d end up single at 44 because I had an idea of what I thought my life should and would turn out like. It’s completely different! But it just kinda happened that way and, like you, I too have found a way of ‘letting go’ of what my dream family was going to be. Much love to you x
Author
Exactly, there’s definitely a period of letting go and then realising you are perfectly happy with how things are xx
LOVE.
Because it was / is the same for us.
A cab driver once told me I was selfish for only having one child, and not providing that child with a sibling. ‘You assume that’s MY choice?’ was all that it took to shut him up.
You are in good company my lovely friend
xx
Author
What a rude cab driver!! Hope he felt well and truly put in his place xx
BIG HUGS! Fucking strangers or family forever commenting on this and that drive me NUTS!! Why didn’t you take his name? why don’t you have another? blah blah blah – I think they don’t get to me, but some days the do. These days I get all sort of body comments which drive me nuts! *winks*
Whatever the future holds, we never know. Enjoy the wine and cheese and try and the ‘brighter place’. xx
Author
Thank you my love, will do! Must try to let these things go over our head but as you say, some days that is easier to do than others xx
Beautiful. Just beautiful. Sending big fat squishy hugs just because xx
Author
Leans in for more big fat squishy hugs xx
I’m so sorry for your losses. I get where you are coming from. Almost as soon as I’d had my daughter people started asking when we would have another. Like it is that simple. I lost my first pregnancy after the baby was diagnosed with anencephaly (where the bones in his head didn’t close properly), the second pregnancy was a blighted ovum and the third was many months of stress and worry but it’s almost assumed that it is all forgotten at birth. I’m pretty sure we will never try again, we are happy to be blessed with the one healthy baby we have. Thank you for writing this.
Author
Sorry for your losses too. Never an easy thing to go through and even harder to understand unless you have been there too, which is why I think some people just don’t realise how their questions can sometimes come across xx
Oh hun, so beautiful and reading Kate’s comment too, it’s so true that life turns out often the way we often least expect and whatever is thrown we somehow find a way to deal with it (I lost two friends this year who left young families which changed my perspective on so much) , sending you lots of love x
Author
I’ve realised you just have to let the pieces fall where they fall xx
Oh, I love this post and especially the last line. Much love to you Sarah xx
Karin
Author
thank you my love xx
Such a beautiful post. Our decision to not have any more is for different reasons; my mobility took a battering when I was pregnant with my son and I am legally disabled as a result. There is no biological reason that I cannot have another child (that we know of) but simply put, I can’t put myself through the physical pain again, particularly now I have a child. We happen to think that would be more unfair to our son than leaving him without a sibling and actually, unfair on an resulting child since a pregnancy will only worsen my current state. So whilst different reasons, I absolutely understand where you are coming from. And we are happy. I think part of that happiness and contentment comes from accepting what will be will be. For us, the hardest times are when my son asks if he can have a brother or sister as he is only four years old.
We know we are blessed with the one child we have and we adore our little family. Sometimes I wish other people could see that!
Author
Indeed, the questions from our son are the hardest ones of all x
You always find a way of putting into words thoughts I have had, but never been able to get onto paper. A beautiful and moving post xxx
Author
thank you lovely xx
Beautiful post lovely lady! And after many years of do we/ don’t we, we have moved on now to – I think the decision just happens naturally without any of the big talks; and I’m glad you are in a good place now…. you’ve been through a lot! I only have one child and am so grateful for her – having a second, for many reasons, just wasn’t a realistic option; and anyway, there are so many advantages to being an only! X
Author
There are many advantages and I really feel happy in the place we are in now xx
Such a beautiful post missus, says exactly what it needs to. Lots in here I can relate to. The relief when you finally realise you have settled on a decision without any drama, and really only with the passage of time, and the knowledge that now you can focus all your energy on your beautiful family as it already exists, is a nice place to be. Lots of love to the three of you, who are perfect just the way you are x
Author
I know, it feels really good to be out of limbo and just concentrate on moving forward as a family of 3 xxx
Thank you for this wonderful post. I have one daughter and yes we did want more but unfortunately it just hasn’t happened for a number of reasons. It is a huge regret and sadness but I am so grateful for my amazing daughter. However what gets my blood boiling is when people ask ‘Are you having another one!’ First how personal of someone I hardly know and second do they not think its something I have asked myself already a million times before.
I’m sorry to go on but this is the first post I have ever seen where someone addresses one child families.
Thank you for sharing.
Author
So lovely of you to comment, thank you. I too, am hugely grateful for what I have now x
I love this post so much. I’m very fortunate in that I have never suffered a miscarriage, but with my son being almost two we are constantly asked when “number two will come along”. We are happy with it being just the three of us, but they don’t believe me when I say so. We really can’t afford a second child, but they feel uncomfortable when I explain this. Sigh.
There are so many situations in which one child really is and always will be enough, and so many reasons why probing further is utterly insensitive. It’d be so nice if other people could be as happy for the lovely family of three that we are, as they would be if I told them another baby was on the way…
Author
I have friends who have two children who are asked when number 3 is coming along, so think it is just something people say without realising how insensitive the question is 🙂
*sighs* It never fails to amaze me how insensitive people can be. We’ve come to the same decision for different reasons and we were asked a lot after our first, much less so now that people know more about what we went through to conceive her. So glad that you’ve moved on to a brighter place and made peace with it x
This post resonates with me, because whether to have another child or not is something which has sat like a heavy burden on my mind for around three years. Not because I’ve had a miscarriage, but because my experience with G as a baby was so miserable (self diagnosed PND but two years too late) that I didn’t (and still don’t) know if I could cope. I’m still not at the place yet where I can accept being a mum of one, but I’m so happy for you that you have.