after our son was stillborn, the only thing that made sense was to try again. IMMEDIATELY!

it was a manic feeling really. i thought that my world would never be able to rotate again if we didn't get pregnant again. i wouldn't be able to survive if we didn't have another shot at "hope."

or so we thought.

five months after we lost our son, we were pregnant again. eight weeks later we suffered a miscarriage.

and we threw in the fucking towel because after that, we literally lost it all. we're anti-baby to the extreme now.

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i read so many newly-babylost parent blogs and see how anxious and determined they are to have another baby. and while i understand the rush and the gut feelings (i was in the SAME boat), i want to grab them by the shoulders, give them a good shake and tell them that life goes on. that having another baby WON'T fix the grief and pain you feel. that you will never lose your maternal instincts. you are a mother/father now, even if your child died. that no matter how hard it is to live without your child, having another one won't fix anything.

my son's one year mark is coming up in september. i feel closer to him more than ever. this break from ttc has given me the chance to truly focus on all that i lost and grieve his short life.

one day we will try again. but for now, i have to live with the sad truth that he is gone, and nothing will change that. not even another baby.

I had an IUD ordered and placed before my son died. So I had to make a decision to take that out and start trying. I spent a lot of thought and research on it. Not just about sussing out my own emotional readiness, but my physical readiness, too. I interviewed OBs, I read research papers about inter-pregnancy intervals especially with respect to a prior c-section and a desire for a VBAC. So yeah, it was very much a thought-out, active decision.

I was incredibly impatient, but also incredibly driven by doing it as safely as possible for both myself and the future child as possible. I wanted to minimize the risks. I wanted as little to worry about as possible. I started thinking about when I should try again very quickly. I knew I wanted more children period. Losing my son only made that urge stronger. I felt my identity as a mother slipping away and I wanted it back.

We're still trying, about 10 months after making the decision to pull the IUD and start trying again. BLEH. I still very much want to be a mother again, experience pregnancy again, but the urgency has faded somewhat in the past few months; worn down by time and lack of success.

As far as we can tell, without intensive testing, there's no extenuating factors giving us infertility concerns. Continuing to try is free, so there's no statute of limitations on us in that way.

What I am finding is falling apart is my sanity to keep just waiting around for it to happen. It drives me out of my gourd that there is nothing (more) I can do to make it happen. I'm waiting around for the next stage of my life to begin again, and I find it maddening. I'm trying to figure out how to go find some other, concrete meaning and direction in my life in something that doesn't get in the way of actively trying to get pregnant.

The length of time is weighing heavily on me. We started trying to get pregnant initially just shy of three years ago. That's depressing.

I know that there will come a point in either time or more losses that will make me stop, but I'm not there yet. So I can't lay a finite line in the sand where that is. Another couple months of not getting pregnant and I will be harassing my OB about how long he thinks I should keep trying without more testing.

Eventually, somewhere down the line, I would look into adoption before giving up entirely. Giving up entirely would probably result in me trying to find college that wants to take on a 30-something crazy lady into med school or scientific research, I guess. If I ever give up, I will give up HARD.

We tried again right away, it was an imperative for me, it felt like a mission, do or die. Looking back mentally and emotionaly I wasnt ready, but here I sit with a two week old, and I wouldnt take it back, but honestly, it was hell.

I wanted to try again from the moment we left the hospital empty. A major stumbling block was that DH had a vasectomy less than two months before.

I have ruffled a few feathers I think, when I say that I wasn't so much attached to THAT baby as I was to the idea of a baby in general. I loved Juniper, but had they knocked me out and brought me a living baby to take home, I would have accepted that. It's not really a popular view. But, then again, neither is calling your dead baby ... well ...dead.

Therefore, the biggest grief for me was over not being able to try again. I did not want our family to end in such monumental failure. It ate me up inside. I looked longingly at vasectomy reversal sites and devoured statistics and procedural information I compared prices and compared them to assisted fertility methods. I couldn't even look at a baby without weeping. DH wanted none of it. Juniper had been unplanned, though welcomed, and DH thought we were done and that was that. I had been bugging him to get a vasectomy before we conceived and he never got around to it until early December. But no one ever asked me what I would think of that decision if 6 weeks later I gave birth to our dead child at 39 weeks 4 days. No one mentions that to the mother. DH said "oh yeah, they asked me, but we were done anyway." I freaked out! "Why didn't you ask ME? "I thought we were done" he said. "No, YOU were done and I agreed because I didn't want to inflict anymore children upon you" I sobbed.

I tried anti-depressants. They only made me itch and be detached from my emotions. So I was still sad, but "thinking sad" instead of feeling sad. It was awful. So I went off them. But I couldn't shake this feeling of being incomplete. It was destroying me. As I told my therapist "of course I am SAD that Juniper died" but I am DEVASTATED that I don't get to try again." There is a difference. And so we tow the line that a new baby can't replace the dead one. But damn! A new life can fill the space and use the stuff. And give my kids someone to call brother or sister instead of "my mom's baby that died" (This is how my 5 y.o. described Juniper to his friends the other day.)

So, a couple months back, I had a huge meltdown. I couldn't shake it. I was miserable for days and days. More miserable than usual. Finally, DH suggested we go to counseling (I had been going myself since 4 weeks out.) I told him I would go if he made the appointment. So we got to talking and somehow -by what mechanism or twist of fate I can't recall- he agreed to look into reversal surgery.

So, I made him an appointment and we dutifully went to counseling until our therapist pretty much told us we were fine. I have started charting and his surgery is the 23rd. Then when he is healed we will start TTC in October.
I will be 36 on the 26th of this month so the clock is a bit ticky. My 5 year-old will be six before he has another sibling and my DD will be 15 and then be gone off to college by the time the baby is 3. I wish it had all fallen into place a little more neatly.

And yes I am a bit nervous. I can no longer make hippy-dippy homebirth with a midwife plans. I cannot trust that my body will do the right thing. I will question everything I eat drink or breathe. I will make everyone around me crazy. I will have lots of therapist bills. I have always been against the medicalization of maternity care, but I will LIVE under that sonogram machine if it means I get to have a reason to set up the co-sleeper again.

i knew we were trying again as i was crying in the room having *just* heard that the baby had died. i knew we were trying again that month.

D wasn't ready, and he made us wait a month - although we inadvertently (.... yeah right) had good timing even that first month. i think he would have wanted to wait a while, but there was no way i could have waited any longer. even that one month was incredibly hard for me. in the three cycles after a miscarriage you're supposed to be more likely to fall pregnant, and i do wonder whether we would be expecting a baby about now if we'd tried properly that first month. but really, i wasn't ready to try, even though nothing could have stopped me.

i need to have a baby. the longing, if anything, is getting worse. the feeling of failure every month definitely is. i won't get to have a baby before the age of 35, now. that's terrifying. i can feel my odds of ever managing to have a child shrinking every month. i can feel my odds of having two vanishing.

Immediately. As soon as they inserted the cervadil to bring on labour I wanted to try again. He was our first child. The first of what we hope are many.

Once we decided that we were going to have kids together the number kept rising. 2. no, 3. Maybe 4. Possibly 5 but we'll see. The first wasn't supposed to die.

And so because we want a large family, we started as soon as I could tolerate intercourse. My midwife advised me that my body would get pregnant when it was ready to be pregnant again and that I was made for babies. I'm frustrated that we're not pregnant yet, and I also appreciate each month that passes since Foster's death/birth.

I read about mum's who have lost a child and then lose another through miscarriage - I know that could happen to me. I also recognize the next baby could be stillborn too. If that happens I reserve the right to reconsider. Perhaps gestating kids won't be how we come into our family. At that point we'll look at fostering or adoption. All I know is that I have a whole lot of love to give, and I'd like to pour it into children if I can.

Like others have said, trying again wasn't something I debated. It was something I NEEDED. I told my therapist that I was in the middle of building something incredible and very, very important and someone came along and snatched it away. I HAD to finish it. But there was a catch. What killed my son was something in my DNA, something I cannot change. The effects can be mitigated, but there is no guarantee this won’t happen again. I was told that the research pointed to an increase in defects if pregnancies were too close together (less than 6 months) when the first pregnancy had resulted in defects. I’ve since learned that most doctors don’t believe this, but I don’t know if they are up on the most current research. Regardless, I decided to wait six months. That was really good for my emotional health but unfortunately it only gave my body more time to screw things up. What started out as a luteal phase defect that was easily fixed with Clomid is now all kinds of funky screwed up hormones. I tried 2 cycles of Clomid and threw in the towel. I already hate my body for the 15 years of hormone crap I’ve been dealing with and for murdering my son; charting every day emphasized to me that things were very wrong and the hatred grew daily. I realized I was damaging what little healing I had managed so far and decided enough was enough. I might have gone to an RE if we had the money but I don’t know if I could have endured more testing and more drugs and more charting. For now I am giving up on all that. If a miracle occurs (it has before – my daughter was conceived without intervention), then I will be thrilled. If not, I am moving on with my life.
I’ve know since I was 16 or so that adoption was in my future, whether I could conceive or not. My mother and two cousins are adopted and our family had foster children when I was little. I’ve always wanted to adopt from foster care, those kids that no one wants, the teenagers with no one to go home to from college, the siblings that don’t want to be separated. My husband and I decided to pursue foster adoption now rather than later, mostly because we want our daughter to be a sister. She would be a fantastic sister and she is really not the kind of child to do well as an only child. I hate that I can’t give her the baby brother she wanted so badly. So I guess our plans never really changed, they were just speeded up a bit and our final family will look a little different than we planned. I am still mourning the loss of my fertility but taking the foster adopt classes has given me something to hope for, a reason to be excited. I would highly recommend this to anyone that is reaching the end of their rope in the struggle with infertility. The classes are free and you can drop out if you decide it’s not for you. That right there has taken so much pressure off of me. All I have to do is show up and participate and I could have a child next year. I’m sure this road is not going to be all rainbows and butterflies, but right now it sure beats glaring at the dozen used OPK’s in a drawer and wishing one would turn positive.

Freddie was a last baby, one i begged for because I needed to have another to wipe out the dreadful memories of something terrible that I regret. We argued and fought and nearly lost our marriage but in the end agreed to him. I was so happy. It took 8 months to conceive him after agreeing which as awful as the girls had been conceived easily. The stress was terrible.

When Freddie was born he didn't breathe and although it took 11 days, I knew he was going to die. After the fight to have him, I was anticipating my dh saying "you see, this was my worst fear!" and initially, without conversation, I assured him that I wanted no more. I had promised over and over Freddie would be the last, that I would not ask for any more once I had him. On the page of notes relating to Freddie's death we agreed to no post mortem partly as we "planned no further pregnancies".

So I was slightly surprised that dh didn't just say "of course no more!" when I brought it up and that he took no precautions when we had sex. He's normally very careful. And then we found ourselves agreeing that the least painful option was simply to decide we would not try "not to" and see what nature planned. Only I turn out not to be very good at that; if we'd agreed not to have more, I'd be in a far worse place than I am.

Our children are a consideration; they are not tiny and a new pregnancy will be a huge worry. So is my birth history. The girls were difficult and traumatic but they are alive; Freddie's was easy and he is dead. And I don't know why.

But I just cannot bring myself not to try, at least for a while. I no longer need another, but I'd like a happy ending. Freddie should have been a happy ending to enormous sadness and difficulty. It is so awful that on top of the reality of dead baby, our little celebration that we saved our marriage went so wrong.

The saddest thing of all was that having never wanted boys, we now both wish we had one. That dh wanted no more children and now grieves for having no son. That my children were not overwhelmed to discover a baby coming but are now grieving for a lost brother.

On top of all the things to consider, there is all that.

It has been a year and 2 months since the loss of one of my twins. My survivor is now doing well. She has CP and there is always an unknown. I have just had my IUD out this week and am feeling excited and hopeful about having another pregnancy. The thing I struggle with every day is wanting to have twins. I know in my mind that the risks are high, and it is selfish to want 2 babies but in my heart I have missed out on so many things that accompany twins and I long for those experiences. I know I will be happy to have a baby, but I will always long for twins.

Natalie, I feel like that about boys. I have 4 girls but Freddie was our only boy. I never wanted boys. Now I know that if I manage to get pregnant and it is another girl, both of us will be just a tiny bit sad about that for a while.

Merry, I feel exactly the same. I was scared of raising a boy, I didn't want one. I knew if I had a son I would still love him, but I was afraid I would fail at raising him. Now I'd give almost anything for a little boy. It only took the five minutes between finding out the sex and the devastating news to get attached to the idea of a son. The look on my husband's face said it all. I think I will be terribly dissapointed if we never get a chance to parent a boy. Yet another thing this loss has taken from us; that we can't simply enjoy what we are given.

In the hours immediately after Reid died, I said I was never doing this again, but by the time we came home from the hospital I had changed my mind. then I thought I would be okay to wait 6 months so that I could heal between c-sections but as soon as my doctor said that we could try whenever we were ready, the obsession with ttc was back (it took 7 months to get pregnant with Reid despite textbook 28 day cycles). Part of my "rush" is that I want my LC to have a sibling she can be close to and play with. I was also planning to stay home with my kids after Reid was born and I hate the idea of putting my LC back into childcare and going back to work for an indeterminate amount of time until we have another living child.

It sort of feels like our lives have been on hold since January 2009 when we started ttc a second child. We were only planning to have 2 kids so once we got pregnant, we thought we were done with that phase of our lives. Losing Reid has just extended the holding period. I think there will be a cut-off time for me because I can't live in a holding pattern forever. When exactly that is, we haven't decided, but if I'm not pregnant in a year there will be some serious discussions in our family.

Like Merry, I would have been perfectly happy to have another daughter (we already had all the pink stuff she could ever need). Now having lost a son (and we didn't know Reid was a he until he was delivered and couldn't be resuscitated), there will be an adjustment period if our third child turns out to be a girl. We both really do want the chance to raise a son.

With Stella it took 5 months to get pregnant due to irregular cycles and after she died we knew we wanted to try again but weren't sure when. I didn't want to get back on the pill and then off again a few months later so I never went back on.

I guess we made the decision not to make a decision and instead let the decision be made for us.

My husband is a lot older than me and while I feel like I could have waited a few years and still had no problem due to my age he didn't want to wait. And neither of us felt like we would ever be ready. We would and will always be scared. And we will always grieve for our little girl.

So 3 months later was when it happened. The only thing I wish I had planned for a little better is this baby is due 2 weeks before Stella's birthday. I want to be able to make that a special day for Stella but we'll have such a small baby (hopefully) so it might be difficult. But then again (hopefully) we'll have a healthy baby with us to celebrate Stella's life.