We need to talk about prenatal loss and infertility
It has been just over two years since we lost our triplets. They were conceived after our second attempt at SO-IUI and for the most part of my pregnancy, everything was smooth. Our three babies were growing on target at each scan, and we were eagerly anticipating the day that we would meet them. Only, we didn’t think it would be as early as it turned out to be.
Our last celebration with them - their gender reveal. Two days prior to being admitted into hospital.
We were 23 weeks + 4 days pregnant when a womb infection that turned septic forced me to have to give birth to our three angels. I had been admitted into the hospital two weeks prior due to spotting which then turned into bleeding. We heard each of their heartbeats, galloping strong as a horse, with a doppler every morning and evening. Florian and I looked forward to that every day. Just hours before I was rushed into the delivery room, we had smiled at each other, feeling reassured once more at having heard our triplets’ hearts beating loudly and steadily. Then, I started to leak a foul-smelling green discharge that alarmed the doctor on duty. Within minutes, he came into my room and said I was turning septic, and that we had to ‘get the babies out’.
I felt panic. I turned to Florian and he promised me everything would be okay. Only, it did not turn out that way. In the minutes leading up to when the too-young looking doctors were to come in to help with delivery, I fought to keep them. I wanted them to stay with us on Earth. Yet, if they had survived being born so prematurely, would they have had health complications? Developmental issues? Physical impediments?
Just past midnight on the 23rd of August 2019, I was induced and our son was delivered. It took me until a little after 5 AM to have his little sisters join him before my teeth started to chatter and I went into shock. Shortly after, I passed out and when I came to, I was boiling hot. I slipped in and out of sleep until around 9 AM when the nurses brought our babies for us to see. They were so tiny, and daintily wrapped in Angel Gowns, complete with a little head warmer each. They were breathtaking, more perfect than I had envisioned. My only consolation was that they had come to us together, and they had left together.
Florian and I have tried to conceive time and again after our loss. We underwent another round of IUI and 3 rounds of IVF. All proved futile and it was found that the infection had left me with severe Asherman’s Syndrome (uterine scarring). Still, we continue to hope.
I don’t believe that all children come to us in the way we imagine. Sometimes they are given to us in the most surprising ways. We have made peace with me no longer being able to fall pregnant, but we have not given up on waiting for our rainbow(s) to appear.
Remembering the triplets on the 23rd of August
Time has been a healer. I cannot deny this. Early on after our miscarriage, I thought I would never be the person I used to be. The truth is, I won’t. But I am no longer in pieces, no longer crying myself to sleep, no longer wondering ‘Why? Why me?!’
Whether you have miscarried once, or multiple times; a single baby, or multiples; or whether you are struggling with infertility, know that you are not alone. You are never alone. I remember feeling so isolated as we left the hospital empty-handed and empty inside; ashamed for not being able to carry our babies to term; guilty for taking our pregnancy for granted and perhaps not taking better care of myself. Only until recently could I accept that we did all that we could with the information we had available to us, that I couldn’t have done more. I’d like to believe that our babies were so perfectly beautiful that God decided they belonged back in heaven with Him.
Still, it was painful - it still is, but I refuse to let the loss of our babies’ be for nothing. The missing will always be there. I think of them every day still and even more so on their birthday. I wonder what kind of little people they would be now, whether they would be happy, funny, kind… Whether the girls would have looked like me; whether our little boy would have taken after his daddy.
Life has never promised to be fair, and while the premature loss of innocent lives can never seem justified to us, I believe we can choose to make good with what life has dealt us, or not. I want our babies to look down on me from heaven and be proud of the legacy I intend on building in their memory.
There is no timeline to grief. There are days where I still feel vulnerable and the ache of what could have been feels stronger. Other times, I accept what has happened and embrace the joy of having had the triplets with us, even if for too short a time. Their fleeting presence in our lives showed me a kind of love I would never have imagined possessing, they taught me to cherish the present, and they led me to want to be there for women trying to navigate and deal with their emotions from loss and/or infertility.
My desire is for no woman to have to feel alone in this chapter of our lives. I am currently studying for an advanced diploma in counselling psychology with the aim to facilitate support groups and healing circles pertaining to prenatal loss and infertility. I want women to empower women; women to support women, and women to help women. We are stronger together and whatever challenges we face as females, we can identify together.
On the latest episode of our podcast series Calm Conversations, our co-founder Alyssa spoke to Dr Mary Sawdon, a naturopathic doctor and fertility coach who is on her journey dealing with miscarriage and infertility as well. We hope that by listening in, you feel less alone, learn something new, and find the courage to continue these conversations with the people around you. Tune in on Spotify, Apple or Google Podcast.