Since Finley was born, a question that seemed to be on everyone’s mind was whether or not Steve and I would ‘try again’. People throw those words around as though it is the most natural question in the world. I know it’s genuine curiosity from people who were so excited for us to become parents, and yet to me it often feels like people are really asking if we are going to try again because we failed the last time. Or, I guess I should say, that I failed the last time, since I was the one who carried him.
Very shortly after Finley died, all of the doctors were keen to tell me I’d be able to conceive again, though they all had varying opinions of when I should try. I couldn’t take in these conversations initially. My milk had barely started to come in, and my body was bruised and battered. I didn’t want to try for another baby, I wanted the one that I had given birth to less than a week previously. I couldn’t comprehend why I would even consider getting pregnant again when in all honesty I don’t think I quite realised what had happened. You can’t imagine the overwhelmingly empty feeling that remains when you spend 9 months carrying another life inside of you and making every plan for a future only to have it ripped away in a moment. We both knew we wanted a family, so Steve and I agreed we would wait around a year before we would begin trying to conceive again.
Continue reading about my thoughts of trying to conceive and pregnancy after loss at http://dear-finley.blogspot.co.uk/2013/01/in-which-i-contemplate-pr...