As we approach the end of March, we are getting closer to when my due date would have been had I not miscarried last July. My best friend, Beth, was due only 10 days before me, and her precious little guy was born last week. I had 3 other friends who were due all around the same time as me, and one other had her baby last night; the other two are still waiting.

It makes me sad. Out of all my miscarriages, I think this one was the hardest for me emotionally. To think of the “what ifs” – I would be in the final stages of my pregnancy, pulling last-minute things together. My little one would have been just weeks or possibly days apart from Beth’s – something that would have been so special for both of us, I think. I don’t spend much time dwelling on these thoughts, but this month I’ve been thinking about it more and more.

It makes me a little sad.

Of course, those thoughts are bittersweet. If that baby had made it, then the little one I am carrying right now would not be here. And I also think about how if I had not lost that baby last July, and then the next one last September, then I would never have gotten blood tests run to see if there was a reason for the miscarriages. And I wouldn’t know about the Factor V Leiden or the MTHFR. And if I was not on the extra vitamins and blood thinners, then my risk of stillbirth would be much greater. Right now, with the precautions we’re taking, the risk is the same as a women without these risk factors, which relieves me greatly.

To be honest, I would much rather have lost the baby at 6 weeks than at 36 weeks. :-( Neither is easy, but I am so grateful that I have been able to approach this pregnancy with the knowledge I have.

So, this month has been a little bittersweet for me. Sorrow at what was lost. Hope for the future. Knowledge that I am in a better place than I was 9 months ago, as hard as it was, as far as pregnancy is concerned. (I hope that makes sense?)