I can’t believe it myself. But guess what? I’m pregnant again!

This will be my 10th, and last, pregnancy. I don’t think my heart, soul, or body need to try again after this. I’m trusting this pregnancy to God and will embrace and be grateful for whatever comes. I have a beautiful life, and if it’s in the plan for this pregnancy to bring us our 4th child, I’m going to be so thankful and happy. But after this, whether it ends with a baby or not, I’m getting the old tubes tied, soldered, snipped, glued, and perhaps even run over by an 18 wheeler. Ten pregnancies is quite enough for one lifetime.

So I don’t want you to feel bad if I have to write in in a few weeks and share that I miscarried. This is just a possibility, and I’ve learned to just be comfortable with whatever happens— mostly because I was blessed enough to be given the beautiful babes I have. They are gorgeous, amazing, and bright babies. There’s nothing more a woman could possibly want.

I’ve got 4 more weeks before I’m “in the clear” and can just sit back and enjoy my pregnancy without fear of loss. All of my miscarriages have happened before the 9th week of gestation. So, if I go in for my 10 week appointment and get to hear or see a little heartbeat, I’m fairly confident that everything is going to go well.

After 10 pregnancies, I can usually tell whether a pregnancy is a healthy one. With all of my pregnancies that ended in miscarriages, I wasn’t nauseated. With my 3 successful pregnancies, I was quite nauseated. I am already quite nauseated this time. That’s a great sign!

I’m sharing this on my blog because I need to talk about it. I’ve spent most of my pregnancies keeping quiet about it during the 1st trimester because I didn’t want to count my chicks before they hatched. I had gotten to a point where I actually superstitiously thought I had been jinxing myself by telling people I was pregnant before the 12th week, causing my own miscarriages. Now I know that’s just silliness. And I also know that it’s good for me to be able to talk about it– to be congratulated– to celebrate another pregnancy and not assume it’s doomed before it even has a chance to begin.

I used to have an old fashioned and superstitious opinion on 1st trimesters– Don’t even mention a pregnancy before the 12th week. But, this isn’t the 50’s anymore when women had to be embarrassed if they miscarried, or feel like half of a woman if they failed to carry the pregnancy to the end. We know that it’s not a reflection of a woman’s health or lifestyle if they lose a pregnancy. It’s just something that happens, and often for a reason that we’ll never know or understand. It’s amazing how painful something so natural can be. But I don’t want to feel broken because I miscarry anymore, I did for so long. I don’t want other women who miscarry to feel that either. It’s a painful experience, whether it happens once or 6 times. The heart is an amazing, resilient thing.

Women who have miscarried once, or six times, or 15 times– they are some Tough Cookies. I wish all of those women, with their resilient and hopeful spirits, lots and lots of morning sickness and sore bosoms. Here’s to the second chances, and the tenth ones too…