Do You Know Who I Am?

According to Lesley Regan, "sporadic miscarriage affects 25% of all women and 15% of all clinically recognised pregnancies miscarry". Most studies put the chances of having three consecutive miscarriages at around 1%, that's one woman in every hundred. But it's only that high because of the fact that some women have physiological, hormonal, immunological, environmental, infectious or thombotic causes. According to Regan, "the statistical chance of having three miscarriages in a row [just due to random chromosomal factors] is 0.34% -- 3 to 4 cases per thousand women".

Gee, I always wanted to be special but give me a break. What? I couldn't be the 1 in 333 who, I don't know, wins £10 on the lottery?

Do you know the really fucking sad thing? I now KNOW the other 2 or 3 women in that sample of a thousand, because they're all heartbroken like me, and we all congregate in the ether, swapping stories and crossing fingers and toes and eyes that the next pregnancy doesn't self-destruct in our apparently inhospitable wombs.

But for those of you who don't know who we are, we're the ones sobbing quietly in the loos at work when yet another colleague announces that she's 5 minutes pregnant yet we all know she'll end up with a healthy baby in the time it takes us to lose three more. We're the ones with the fixed smile whenever the baby photos are pulled out. We're the ones who make up stories about being on antibiotics to explain why we're not drinking at the office party, because we don't dare tell anyone that we're pregnant again, only to have to explain later why there's no bump. We're the ones who scour the internet, bookshops and medical journals to find that elusive piece of information that might hold the key for our reproductive dreams. We're the ones who are willing to believe any new theory or undergo an unproved, risky treatment, regardless of whether it might have long-term implications for our own health.

We are also the ones who know that we are, in some strange way, lucky compared to our sisters who cannot conceive, who stab themselves with needes and sit back to wait for swollen ovaries, painful retrievals, undignified treatments and, God help them, the possibility of yet another failure.

We are the 3 in a thousand. would you know us if you saw us?

Comments

[Shanna]

Wow! I didn't know that we famous. Not really what I was looking for. I would much prefer being the lottery winner.

Hope all is well in Badeggsland. Thanks for the comment about the dumbass over on my blog. Love ya!

[Jan]

Delurking to say I hear ya! I managed to add secondary infertility to my 3 miscarriages, which put me in the 33% of women from the 1% of recurrent miscarriers who also have difficulties conceiving. And even after consultations with the great lady herself, I STILL don't really know why either thing is happening. I'll see you in the loos!

But good luck with the latest project - may this be the end of the crappy statistics, the end of fixed grins and the beginning of something wonderful for you.

[Katharine]

Amen. You summed it up for me. I am thinking of you and your future bump every day. xo -Katharine

[Lorem]

I like it - except I take exception to being luckier than those who cannot conceive. They at least know they can't. We are tantalized, having the fruit jerked from us again and again.

[Karen]

I hate being so goddamned special, don't you?

[Elaine]

Don't they say 'Everybody is good at something'.
Hmph.

[Kath]

Yep. Every time I read one of those statistics, I have to marvel at my luck. With that phenomenal capacity to buck the odds, I should be rolling in money, not in floor cake.

I hope you DON'T beat the odds this time, dear Lola. May this one bring you and Mr Badeggs great joy.

[Vivien]

Hi Lola, you are sounding down - know how it feels. I am therefore 'tagging' you for 9 weird things about you - and being the one in a thousand doesn't count! Your next post, or one soon, should be a list of 9 quirky things about you. That should give you something else to think about! I tagged Thalia too. BTW - there is more to these stats than meets the eye - can I suggest you contact Hassan Shehata at the miscarriage clinic? Google him, if in doubt. Email me if you want to know why.

[stephanie]

i prefer to think of us as exceptional. and i often wonder myself about the lottery thing, i think i must start playing.

lola, know that i am right there with ya. and i hope we both get to have our dreams come true in janurary.

[nico]

We landed on every wrong side of every statistic. Surely I wouldn't miscarry twice! surely we wouldn't be in the 40% of unexplained miscarriages at the clinic...surely...

I agree with Lorem. It seems crueller to have the possibility and have it taken away, than to have no possibility at all.

[Cara]

I'd prefer to win the lottery with those odds.

Hopefully you'll enter the other statistical column this time.

[thalia]

the stats suck. I had a major freakout when I realised that, with endo, my chances were better that I would never have a live birth, than that I would. I'm hoping the chances go to hell for you this time.

thanks, Lola, for thinking of us who have difficulty conceiving in the first place.

hoping all works well for you.

[kati]

...ups, sorry, forgot to post my name.