Schrodinger's baby

Trying to conceive feels like being in limbo: always 'maybe-pregnant' but never certain until a period comes or two lines appear in a window on a little white stick.

I am highly aware of my cycle even though I'm not counting days, taking my temperature or peeing on ovulation sticks. I am careful about what I eat and drink. I take folic acid to carefully nourish the tiny embryo that might implant and grow. I know when my period is due and each month I hold my breath and cross my fingers that it won't come.

But it does. And it catches me out.

I had vowed not to go back on the Pill after my daughter was born but, following Monty's stillbirth, it was recommended by the family-planning nurse as a way of giving myself the emotional space to grieve. However, since I stopped taking it, in the Summer, my 'cycle' has been irregular. Three times now, my period has been late enough that I've dared to believe that I might be pregnant... but I'm not.

I feel like the butt of some cruel biological joke: I lost my much-wanted second baby at 34 weeks' pregnant and now I don't even know if/when I'm ovulating!

My mind is filled with trepidatious hope - "maybe this month?" - alongside fear and anxiety about how I would react if I were to fall pregnant. It's all I can do to try not to let this take over my life.

Looking back...

This photo was taken one year ago. It is the last photo my husband took of me pregnant with Monty (at 25 weeks).

I can hardly believe how much things have changed since then.

I miss him so much.

Feel the fear and do it anyway?

I have longed to provide my daughter with a sibling since before she was born. I was delighted to find out I was pregnant for the second time at Easter last year but, six months ago, our lives were turned upside down when our son was stillborn. Now, we are faced with the challenge of trying again. Lots of bereaved parents go on to have more children but I am scared of losing another baby.

I never felt that my second pregnancy would be my last. I could picture myself with three little people toddling along beside me! So, in some ways, trying again would give us the third child I was hoping for anyway.

But...

I worry that everything will go wrong again. I worry that there will be difficult decisions to make. I worry that I won't have the strength to battle the anxiety. I worry that I won't be able to bond with my baby. I worry that I won't be able to talk about how I feel. I worry that other people won't understand. I worry about depression. I worry that all the worry will make me a poor mummy. I worry that there won't be a 'right time' to start trying and I worry about leaving it too late.

I didn't worry about anything during my pregnancies. I was considered 'low risk' and I never expected things to go wrong. I was so sure of myself as a mum-to-be, custodian of the unborn child. I was careful about my diet and how I exercised, and I was prepared for my babies' arrivals. I never thought I would come away from the hospital with empty arms, sore eyes and a broken heart...

If I had known, would it have made a difference?

There is a temptation, now that I know what caused Monty's death, to investigate the current state of scientific research into the links between viral infection and stillbirth. Somewhat ironically, the virus in question (human cytomegalovirus) is one that I spent six months studying during my biochemistry degree, although I was investigating it for reasons unrelated to pregnancy.

I don't plan to research very deeply, as I believe nothing could have prevented what happened to us - I was just unfortunate to pick up the virus in the early weeks of my pregnancy. However, it is interesting to know that CMV is beginning to be recognised as a potential cause of stillbirth: Pregnancy and cytomegalovirus

I never expected my baby to be stillborn. No-one does. If I had known about the risks associated with CMV infection, would it have made a difference? I don't know but I don't think so.