Making of a Kept Woman
chapter 6 *[trigger warning]*
Chapter 6: Baby on the Brain
We took our time to privately grieve the entire pregnancy-miscarriage whirlwind, as neither of our families were the emotionally available type. It was during that quiet, woeful journey inward that we found a hidden blessing within the turmoil. It had opened our hearts and minds to the reality of having a family. We’d been so focused on pursuing our educations and careers that we hadn’t seriously considered family life. Nate knew I’d never wanted biological children, but we were always fond of the idea of adopting. However, that’s where it had stayed- an idea. So as heartbreaking as it was, the unexpected pregnancy and miscarriage were catalysts for that conversation.
It wasn’t a quick or simple conversation to have; instead, it went on for months. When Nate and I weren’t actively discussing the prospect of becoming parents, I was mulling it over on my own. I relentlessly questioned whether the spontaneous pregnancy was a sign from the Universe that we were meant to have a child together or if the miscarriage was a sign that we were not. Trying to decipher the grand meaning of our experiences was challenging to say the least.
Nate understood what weighed so heavily on me and was willing to do anything to help us find the answers. He even suggested an unexpected source for help— religion. While we were each raised by women of Faith, neither of us had ever felt pulled towards organized religion. Nor had we had an interest in other spiritual beliefs or practices that could guide us on this journey. Our agnostic tendencies hadn’t been a liability until I sought to understand “how things worked” in life and beyond. Even then, I gravitated towards a scientific or logical approach- comparing various perspectives of God and the Universe with the help of an array of religious leaders.
Before I ever reached out to local houses of worship, though, I realized there wasn’t a person on Earth who could sufficiently answer my questions. Without faith, I’d doubt any words of wisdom they might offer and likely end up with more questions than I’d started with. Those doubts caused me to begrudgingly concede to the notion that the answers Nate and I sought were buried somewhere inside of us. We just had to dig deep enough to find them.
That quest started with meditation as I desperately needed a quiet mind. But unfortunately, my initial attempts weren’t as I had hoped. I sought crickets chirping in the vast field of my mind but found highlight reels of recent suffering instead. It seemed impossible to turn them off, so I had to switch my approach. I steered my attention away from the painful past by envisioning what I wanted moving forward - a peaceful, loving life.
Those sessions of focused intention often led to self-doubt about how I could achieve such dreams, but their reprieve from my haunting reality offered enough hope to keep me coming back. On the days when hope was absent and fear/doubt took center stage, I yearned to connect with a Divine being willing to answer the questions that consumed me. Some might call that prayer, but it just felt like desperate longing at the time.
After weeks of practice, I started seeing images in my mind’s eye at the most unexpected times- while folding laundry, cooking, cleaning, etc. One such vision was of a beautiful brown-eyed, brown-haired baby girl. I intuitively felt she was my daughter. Her likeness returned on numerous occasions, which had me feeling closer to her each time. Her sweet face melted my heart and churned up maternal energies within. It felt as if some sort of God was showing me what was slated to be the next chapter of my life.
When I discussed those experiences with Nate, he questioned if we might want to intentionally try to get pregnant. I felt the same.
To prepare for pregnancy, we both stopped drinking alcohol and I dealt with any maladies by taking natural medicines safe for expectant mothers. I also started a daily regimen of fertility vitamins and a specialty tea touted to increase the chances of a healthy, full-term pregnancy. Nate even took male fertility vitamins to ensure we covered all the bases. We agreed we wouldn’t tell anyone that we were trying to start a family for obvious reasons but made an exception for my closest girlfriend. I needed someone in our corner to share the big moments with.
The first month we deliberately tried to conceive, we succeeded. It felt like a miracle I’d gotten pregnant so quickly. Almost immediately, I was ravenous for healthy foods and felt like a bloodhound all over again. Knowing there was a loved, wanted baby growing inside me made the nausea and sensitivities to pretty much everything- sounds, smells, food textures, etc.- more manageable.
I was only a few weeks along when we started thinking about baby names again and bought a few articles of maternity and newborn clothing to help us embrace the journey ahead. Those little things brought us great joy and heightened the anticipation of meeting our little one.
Then I miscarried again.
This time there was an explanation, at least— an infection. As physically painful and emotionally devastating as it was, there was some comfort in knowing why our baby was taken from us. That gave us the starting point for healing.
While nursing our twice-broken hearts in private, my mother’s life was turned upside down. A long chain of events caused her to lose her house and nearly everything she had—even her dogs. My uncle was able to welcome one into his loving home, but the other had health issues and needed extra care. Nate and I felt the need to step in, so we buried the gnawing pain of our losses and welcomed Sadie into our home.
By that point, life was starting to grow foreign to us. Nate and I were grieving our second secret miscarriage, there was upheaval on my side of the family, and we’d become caretakers for a sick dog. Her ill health required us to take turns sleeping on the couch next to her bed, which had us feeling like shift workers instead of partners. That went on for three exhausting months before her health took a turn for the worse and we were faced with making the compassionate decision to end her suffering.
We didn’t realize how truly taxing it was caring for Sadie until she was no longer with us. The lack of sleep and overall stress of playing nurse while my body should have been recovering left me feeling depleted in every possible way. I’d ignored my needs while helping our family but learned that had to change. My body absolutely needed a few months to recuperate before trying to conceive again.
Since Nate and I knew the cause of the second miscarriage, we felt it emotionally safe to try again after my body healed enough to do so. And once we decided to resume our efforts, we agreed we wouldn’t get too attached to any budding babies too quickly.
It only took a month for us to conceive a third time— with twins. We’d spent some time leading up to that pregnancy confronting our fears and felt more prepared for parenthood than ever before. I was only able to appreciate how far we’d come when I realized being pregnant with twins didn’t scare me at all. In fact, I was excited about having two babies. The thought of juggling two of everything— midnight feedings, dirty diapers, teething babes— didn’t even make me flinch. Instead, I felt a stillness. A confidence in my soul that I had never felt before.
During that pregnancy, it was recommended I use a daily progesterone supplement to help keep the babies growing safely inside me, so I did just that. It was recommended I stay as relaxed and calm as possible, so I limited interactions with my family and took time away from publicizing my book. I even declined a job offer that included travel to Hawaii so I could dedicate all my energy to our babies. We also cancelled vacation plans and postponed moving into a bigger house until after the babies were born just to spare us the stress of each.
I miscarried anyway.
That was the most difficult of the three. Maybe it was because two lives were lost, or maybe the preexisting wounds in my heart and soul were simply weak spots where pain festered more easily. I honestly don’t know. I do know that is when my disdain for the Divine had started to form, though.
About two months later, while we were still grieving the loss of our twins, another of our beloved pets passed away. That chipped away at our already broken hearts and caused the chasm of despair in our souls to become a little deeper and a bit wider. It felt like the Universe was pulling the rug out from under us as everything we’d loved or were striving for had been taken away without reason or explanation.
Over the next year and a half, we lost several more pregnancies and both of our remaining furry family members. Each left us reeling from grief.
The life we’d once known had been replaced by a cold, regimented existence that didn’t bring us any joy. We’d stopped drinking, were hopped up on prenatal supplements and pregnancy-approved foods, and had skipped vacations and anything else deemed too exciting for me and budding baby. Even sex had lost its zest. The once-passionate dance with my husband had turned into a calculated clinical task. One that consistently led to grief, at that.
Over two years of our lives had passed, and we literally had nothing to show for it- no babies, no pets, no flourishing career for me, no broadening travel experiences… Nothing. Just sorrow. We felt completely empty and all alone. But we didn’t give up. We’d lost too much and had experienced too much pain to stop trying for a family. We couldn’t allow all that grief to have been for nothing. So, despite the gnawing heartache, Nate and I continued trying to conceive for over another year.