Sad.

I got a call from my MIL yesterday. My SIL lost another pregnancy. Apparently she got pregnant on the first cycle she could try again, and found out when she was almost 8w that the embryo had stopped growing at 6w.

She goes in for another D&E today.

And to add insult to injury, when she does get AF, she has to wait three full cycles before trying again.

I’m so sad for her; I don’t even have the words. Last night when I called her to tell her how fucking sorry I was to hear the news, I couldn’t get past the lump in my throat.

Because about a month ago we had a long conversation about her miscarriage and how worried she was that there was something wrong with her. She told me she was on google too much and was getting scared about all the things which COULD be wrong.

Having researched the causes of our infertility ad nauseum myself, I could relate. But maybe there wasn’t anything wrong. Maybe this was something where she just ended up on the wrong side of the statistics.

Twice now.

*sigh*

It just makes my heart hurt to see people I love go through pain like this. My sister, who’s going on two years of not getting pregnant. Now my SIL, who’s had two losses, one right on top of another. (And to think: I was once jealous of her ability to get pregnant so quickly.)

And this time of year. I know – I KNOW- how hard it is. How hard it is on my sister to hear my mom say so happily to someone: “I’m expecting to have more grandkids, you know!” How hard it will be on my SIL to not be pregnant like she had expected – twice now – over the holidays.

Meanwhile, I hold Baby O close and think.

How much pain and fear went into bringing him home.

He is the light of my life.

So yes, he is worth every second of our two and a half year struggle.

But.

It doesn’t mean I am ok with it.

Not for me.

And not for my sisters.