As I grieved the loss of our miscarriage a few months ago, my sister told me that I could accept that this was it--that we were to be a family of three--but that she refused to accept it. She was convinced that we would end up pregnant when we least expected it. She imagined that our son would be headed off to college when we became pregnant. Her first prediction was right. Her second? Not as accurate.
The ACOG suggests you wait three months after a miscarriage to try to conceive again. Three separate doctors have reviewed our records and indicated that it is highly unlikely that we could ever conceive without intervention. Two doctors want me on Lovenox, a powerful blood thinner, when I am pregnant to prevent clots and loss. I had decided to take some time off of my prenatal vitamin and go back on caffeine and alcohol pretty hard for me. I was definitely not expecting a late period just one month after my cycle reset. Nor did I expect an elicit run to the drug store while on vacation with my in laws. Nor a positive pregnancy test while bathing our son.
Holy shit! We are pregnant, and we definitely didn't expect it.
