For most couples, the nine months leading up to the birth of child is one of the most exciting times of their lives. From the moment they get the results of the home pregnancy test, they begin making plans for the baby's arrival, telling family and friends, preparing the nursery, and anticipating how everything will change once the child is born.
But for those of us who have lost a baby during pregnancy or shortly after birth, the mere thought of trying to conceive again unleashes a wave of emotions. While we may desperately want another baby, the idea of going through another pregnancy fills us with dread. So instead of making plans, we ask questions: Why did my last pregnancy end in a loss? What could have been done to prevent it? Could it happen again? How long should I wait before getting pregnant? Should I keep the same doctor, go to the same hospital, or use the same baby things? What will I do when I don't feel the baby move? Will I ever be able to love another baby as much as I love the one I lost?
I asked all of these questions and many others when I considered getting pregnant again after losing my son Patrick to an umbilical cord problem late in my first pregnancy. Like other women who have suffered a pregnancy loss, I vacillated between wanting to try again right away, and fearing that I would never be able to endure another pregnancy. As I struggled to make a decision, I talked to my husband, my doctor, and other women who had lost babies. And as I always do when I'm looking for answers, I searched for books that would offer guidance.
What I discovered was that while there were many books available to help women cope with the pregnancy loss itself, most included only one chapter on the subsequent pregnancy. There were other books on preventing miscarriage and coping with a high-risk pregnancy, but they were written by doctors and focused almost exclusively on medical issues. Even though the medical information was important to me, my interest went much deeper. I needed to know how to respond to strangers who asked me whether I was expecting my first baby, and what to do when my anxiety, no matter how irrational, overwhelmed me. And as for all the other popular pregnancy books, I felt that they were written for women who had never experienced the devastation of a loss and would only serve as a painful reminder of how different my next pregnancy would be from the last one.
Since I was a journalist and was soon going to experience my own pregnancy after a loss, I decided that I would be the one to write the book I wanted. I thus embarked on a journey that lasted nearly five years, included months of research, interviews with nearly 100 women and experts, and two more pregnancies of my own. The result is Pregnancy After a Loss.
It is a guide to every aspect of pregnancy after a loss, from the search for what went wrong the last time, to the decision to try again, to the birth of the next child. It focuses on the feelings that are unique to women who have suffered a pregnancy loss, and offers tips on reducing anxiety. It also describes the medical aspects in simple, straightforward language. But most important, it is a book filled with hope because it contains the stories of dozens of women who have made it through a pregnancy after a loss, and who now have one or more healthy babies.
Because I wanted this book to speak from the heart, I have tried to keep it conversational. It is for that reason that I opted not to use formal terms like health care provider or medical professional, even though they are technically more correct than saying doctor or obstetrician without also referring to general practitioners and midwives. I also refer to all doctors as he, even though I know many of you are under the care of qualified female physicians. Again, it simply seemed too cumbersome to always say he or she. It is also worth noting that this book should not be used as a substitute for professional medical advice. I, like you, am a layperson and intended the information to be used only as a guide that you could use to discuss issues of concern with your own health provider. As I say throughout the book, the better informed you are, the better equipped you will be to take a proactive role in your care and ensure you get the very best medical treatment. As you read through the book, you also might notice that I do not use words like fetus and embryo. That’s because I believe that the vast majority of women who experience a pregnancy loss feel in their hearts that they lost a baby, not a fetus.
A few experts in the field of grieving and bereavement suggested that I also avoid using the term "lost" because it implies something that can be found. While I appreciate their concerns, I believe that it is common for women to say they "lost" their babies. Avoiding that phrase would have meant changing the quotes of many of the women who talked to me.
Finally, I’d like to point out that I changed the first names, and in some cases identifying details, of the women I interviewed. I did this to protect their privacy, which in turn enabled them to share intimate details of their pregnancy that they otherwise might not have. And it is their honesty and insight that will make this book so helpful to you. After hearing from the voices of experience, you will realize that if we could survive a pregnancy after a loss with our sanity intact, you can too. That should make your difficult journey just a little bit easier. I wish you the very best.
Carol Cirulli Lanham
Dallas, March 1999