Myth: If you already have one child, you know you are fertile and will have no problems conceiving and carrying to term again.
Hi, my name is Kristin. I'm a wife and a mother to 3 boys. I am also INFERTILE. Yes, you read that right. I have given birth to three children and I am infertile. See, infertility isn't just the inability to conceive. Infertility, whether primary or secondary, can also be defined by repeat pregnancy loss.
In many circles, I was one of the lucky ones. When trying for our first child, I got pregnant during the second month off of birth control. And, despite some issues with mild pre-eclampsia, I gave birth to a full term, almost 9 pound baby boy. When Marty was about 2 1/2, we decided to try again and quickly got pregnant again only to lose that pregnancy almost immediately. Technically, it was classified as a chemical pregnancy (a term I fucking HATE) and it was my first miscarriage so none of us thought too much about it. After that loss, it took about 4 months (it seemed like a lifetime but was nothing in reality) to successfully get pregnant with our second son. Once again, I was one of the lucky ones. Despite Joey being born 4 weeks early, he was 7 pounds, 20 inches, and was breathing on his own immediately. Overall, I'd say my faith in my body's ability to reproduce had been restored. Boy was I deluded.
Our descent into infertility hell came when we decided to try for our third baby. It took almost 3 years, 6 miscarriages, 3 D&Cs, 626 lovenox shots, 207 progesterone suppositories, and more heartbreak than I can quantify to conceive and carry our third child to term. If we were ever blessed with another pregnancy that led to our 4th child, I would have shots and suppositories to deal with yet again. I'd say those stats place me firmly in the infertile camp.
Those years of infertility fucked with me mentally like nothing before or since has. I lost all faith in my body and it's ability to do what others took for granted. I developed serious white-coat hypertension. It literally got to the point that I would walk into the elevator leading to my OB-GYN's office and I could feel my heart rate and blood pressure go up. The deep and abiding desire for another child coupled with the repeated and abject failure of my body to cooperate sent me into a deep depression. I was use to being the one who could always help others but I found myself at the bottom of a deep, dark pit I could not claw my way out of. And, despite the huge shit pile infertility gave me, I was again one of the lucky ones. I was lucky because it only took about 3 months of chemical help to lift the awful depression I was in. I was lucky because my doctors were able to diagnose and treat the cause of my secondary infertility (the lovely one-two punch of luteal phase disorder and my own special variation of a clotting disorder). I was lucky because I had insurance that covered the meds I needed to treat my issues. In the end, I was lucky because I got my Gabriel, my post infertility baby. Many women are never that lucky.
It's a myth that if you already have one child, you know you are fertile and will have no problems conceiving and carrying to term again. I am living proof of that.
Check out the history of National Infertility Awareness Week