I have been pregnant six times, three living children, two lost to Potter's Syndrome at full-term and one lost to early miscarriage. While I have been pregnant six times, not all of those have come easily. I needed clomid to conceive our youngest daughter and I took progesterone supplements to regulate my hormones prior to conceiving Eli. That was last spring, this time of year. I've had the joy of nursing all of our daughters to at least a year. As a side note, that is one of the more painful things about losing my sons, the loss of being able to nurse them - even just one time. After nursing our youngest it took a long time for my body to return to normal and even then my hormones were out of whack. I wasted time and energy trying to explain this to a general practitioner who tested my thyroid and after it was determined to be normal he diagnosed me as depressed. My OB was more sympathetic and gave me prometrium when I explained that we would like to conceive in the summer. I took the prometrium for three months, immediately noticing a difference the first month (to which I'm sure my family sighed a collective hallelujah), and Eli was conceived the third month (the first that we tried). I had felt it was meant to be, in my heart I believed he was a boy and at the time that he would be our last child, the final link to our chain.
Last year, last spring, I was here. I wanted another child, we wanted another child. I was hoping my cycles would normalize and that in a few months we would be able to get pregnant. That is where I am now, except this time I am here after giving birth to that child. Now I am left to again wonder whether my body will cooperate, whether we will be able to conceive another child. The wait will be slightly longer, but not much. I hope to give just enough space between, for Eli. It feels too familiar and so wrong at the same time. I just went through this one year ago, how can I possibly be here again? In that time I got pregnant, carried a baby for nine months and am left as empty handed as when I started. Strangely, I find myself as hopeful as I was one year ago, undeterred by the events which have taken place since. In that I find solace. I know my spirit has yet to be broken.