Silent birth: I actually have five children

I experienced the eighth wonder of the world in 2008 and 2009. Almost at least. Because at that time I was pregnant for almost two years. During these turbulent times, my mood fluctuated between the phlegm of a sloth and the irritability of a hungry hyena. Most pregnant women are familiar with these waves. But for me it was more extreme. Because whenever I had just started to make friends with my new state, it was over again. And I was right in the middle of the statistics, which say that three quarters of all miscarriages occur in the first trimester of pregnancy: hormones and metabolism go back to the start. And the soul also tries a new beginning – but this becomes more difficult with every hapless pregnancy. But from the beginning:

My first star child is called "Botón"

In 2004 I turned 29. My husband and I thought it was a good age to start a family. But for some inexplicable reason I imagined that I couldn't get pregnant. And as is the case with the worst fears: Most of the time they do not occur! Instead, I got pregnant straight away – based on the Yiddish proverb: "Man plans, God laughs." But then, before I could really be blown away in view of my high fertility, the offspring said goodbye in the third month. Botón, button, is the name of this child in my memory. Why? I was living in Barcelona then. In the emergency room of the ultra-modern hospital, a not-so-ultra-modern Russian doctor's matron in bumpy Spanish handled me: "I'll see another 'Botón', but it will probably go away in the next few days." This lady was not psychologically sensitive. But then I could live with it. I actually didn't want to lie on the sofa and wait. I wanted to pretend nothing had happened. And so I soon went back to business for the first time!

The second child: a northern light

A few months later I was pregnant again. But this time, too, our child didn't just grow like other babies do in their mothers' wombs: I was traveling across Norway in the fourth month when I started bleeding. No, please, not again! Not now! Not here! What should I do? Where is the nearest hospital on the fjord between nothing and nobody? I called my gynecologist, who reassured me: Sometimes mini veins would burst, she said. That is harmless. So I was hoping for "sometimes" – and I was lucky. The bleeding stopped. The baby stayed. And grew. And was born. Healthy! In November 2005. I didn't think about miscarriages for years.

The renewed loss teaches me humility

But then, in autumn 2008, we planned number two – and I had a déjà-vu: pregnant again immediately, again slight bleeding in the eleventh week – just as I was carrying my first daughter up the stairs. Almost reflexively, I felt guilty: If only I hadn't done that. At the same time I hoped that everything would be fine, like in Norway. But the gynecologist shook her head. That night I cried myself to sleep. Husband and parents consoled: "You can still have many children." The doctor explained: "Almost every second pregnancy ends in the first three months. Often unnoticed." And I was reconciled to the thought that I already have a great child. The fact that the miscarriage happened early and my feeling that I hadn't really known the baby in my womb also helped. At least for me. Because, yes, I know it: many women cannot do anything with all these sentences. See it as an imposition. Don't they want to hear. It was then that I also understood: everyone goes their own way of coping. I managed to stay calm after this second miscarriage – not as relaxed as the first time. But there was a humility in me: there are things that happen that you cannot influence. This attitude was amazing – also for those around me. Because actually I have a tendency to drama!

With number four comes anger

March 2009: blood! Dark and curdled! I stared at the stain. By now I knew too well what was threatening me. I was in the seventh week. Two gynecological appointments later, I knew it had happened again: my baby's heart had stopped beating! This third time, twice as quickly in a row, I was overcome with deep hopelessness. And sadness. I asked myself: should we stay with one child? Do I have to go through this heavenly exultation and saddened to death more often? Do i want that? I lost my courage. I didn't want to go through those three uncomfortable first months again: tired, irritable and always on the verge of spitting. I was aggressive, angry with God and the world. And on my body that let me down. I just found it unfair. And threatened my husband, who had stood by me with every miscarriage as well as men can: "I will never get pregnant again. One child is enough." It's just stupid that my husband didn't see it as a threat, he just nodded: "Yes." No! I didn't want to hear that either. And when the anger and sadness were behind me, the spirit of resistance came: "You have to go on," I said to myself, "giving up is forbidden." After all, a friend had eight miscarriages between the first and second children. What were three farewells? In the phases of loss I unconsciously got one thing right: I texted friends and family, talked the miscarriages off my mind. And realized with astonishment that I am nowhere near alone. Friends, acquaintances and neighbors opened up through my openness and told of similar experiences. That helped. Very! A great gynecologist was also beneficial and explained to me that you don't necessarily have to scrape up until the eleventh week if there are no complications. Without this procedure, women would usually cope better with the miscarriage. She prescribed herbal teas and globules and examined me very often. So I had the feeling: Everything happens naturally. And almost without pain.

I receive number five desperately

And at some point I was pregnant again: for the fifth time in five years. I felt that at the beginning I didn't dare to get involved with the child. I kept my distance, forbade myself to have very intimate fantasies, too much joy – so as not to be hurt too much. And it wasn't until I got through the first three months that my protective wall crumbled. Timid at first and then more and more. Because number five wanted to stay with us! Now our family planning is in principle complete. Recently, however, my husband and I joked that you could get pregnant unintentionally. I replied: "We don't have to be afraid of that, because the babies won't stay with us the first time anyway." He oracle back: "In this case then definitely." It's good that we have the same sense of humor. And after all the ups and downs, two children together. Or actually five.

This article originally appeared on Eltern.de.