My story probably sounds similar to a lot of yours. I have been with my partner since 2004. I am diabetic - type 2 - since I was 25 years old. I always wanted to have children, but was told that diabetes could definitely hinder my efforts. However, despite this (and being on Metformin) - at 30 years old, we conceived my daughter. She was a complete surprise. When I found out I was pregnant with her, I was a teacher, unmarried, and teaching junior kindergarten. I remember crying and being in shock and wondering what my grandparents would think as I was unmarried and wondering if my bosses would say anything at all.
However, thank God that everyone in my small community was fine with it. My parents were over the moon. At 36 weeks + 5 days on October 21, 2010 (the day before our anniversary), after a bad fall down the stairs, my daughter was delivered via C-section after my mother's intuition told me something wasn't right with her. She was a little small - 6 lbs 13 oz, but she was a fighter. Despite having low blood sugar and some feeding issues, she was perfect in every way! We left the hospital 11 days after she was born.
The wonders of child rearing ensued. We enjoyed almost every minute of it. The feedings every three hours for the first 1.5 years (ugh!), the sickness, the health. We decided when my daughter was 2 that it was time to have another child.
Like our first, it seemed to just happen naturally and easily - the first time we tried, we conceived. On February 2, I tested and ended up with bfp! I was ecstatic. So quickly, here we were pregnant again. But this pregnancy was different than my other one. My blood sugars had spiraled out of control and I was put on insulin for my sake and the baby's (especially after how long my daughter had been in the hospital - most of that was attributed to diabetes).
Even though I started the insulin, I was ridiculously hot all of the time; I started getting cramps right away that never really stopped. I felt swollen all over - my hands and feet were larger than they should have been. I didn't feel right, and I knew it. I had morning sickness that started around 6 weeks, then stopped abruptly around 8 weeks. I went in for my ultrasound and the tech wouldn't let me see the baby or anything. I was beyond devastated as somewhere inside, it felt like something was wrong. I remember crying to my mother later that day, that something didn't feel right. I was too afraid to ask her if she'd found the heartbeat. Later on, I asked her, and she said she had thought that she heard it. Nothing felt right about this pregnancy, but still we plugged on. I went through my birthday March 14 - and then went back to school after March break. One night - March 22, all of a sudden it felt like something was beating a drum on my insides (on my right side). That night, I started spotting. The next day, it seemed to slow down, so I went to work. Then I started spotting even more. At this point, I was 11 weeks almost. I went to the hospital and they did an ultrasound. To my sadness, there was no heartbeat - the gestational sac was measuring at 11 weeks, and the baby was still measuring at 8 weeks. I checked out of the hospital and went home to let the mc happen naturally. Though it happened naturally, it was one of the most traumatic experiences of my life - I suffered through contractions that were so bad for almost 12 hours. Loss #1
3 months after this, I suffered a chemical pregnancy - 4 weeks 3 days. 4 months after this, another - 4 weeks exactly. 6 months after this, another chemical. My lines would show up about 12 dpo and then lighten on their own in this time. During these crazy months after the miscarriage, my general health got worse. I felt almost toxic. I was diagnosed with high blood pressure, had swelling and felt crappy almost all of the time.
I then started to get really bad cramping in my uterus and found out that it had something to do with being Vitamin D and potassium deficient. I started taking supplements and have slowly been feeling better.
Eventually when people would ask when the next baby was coming, I started telling them that we were done - that my fertility problems were too difficult. My husband was afraid of losing me as well, and neither of us wanted our daughter to have to live without one of us.
My hubby and I had just had the talk about stopping trying, as our daughter will be 4 in October, and we didn't want a lot of age difference between them. I had also decided that maybe pregnancy was too hard on my body and that I would concentrate on myself (even though deep down I still cradled imaginary babies in my dreams at night).