When I told her this baby was my first, she warned, “Do your best to take care of your little girl because you might not have another one.” I was appalled.

The story goes, “Your clock starts ticking at age 30, gets super loud when you’re 35, then just falls apart by the time you hit the big 4-0.” As such, it didn’t take long for me to start getting anxious for my friends who were dreaming of raising their own little village, but still hadn’t gotten around to baby #1 as yet.

Whether they are busy working to pay off student loans, taking care of siblings, or simply still waiting to meet Mr. Right, some sisters are trying to get some financial stability before taking on parenthood. Others are battling infertility, miscarriages, and ‘anti-fertility’ health challenges like fibroids, Polycystic Ovary Syndrome (PCOS), all the while the clock keeps ticking, or does it?

Let’s take a look at the top 3 myths about pregnancy for women over 35 years old.

You Have Fewer Eggs

You’ve probably heard that every baby girl comes into the world loaded with her own ‘egg bank’ – her two ovaries stocked with 1-2 million egg cells. Then by the time she hits puberty, some of those eggs are released monthly through ovulation, while many others die their naturally programmed death like other cells in the body. This being the case, by the time the average woman is in her 30’s (and past her fertile peak), her reserve of eggs has been significantly depleted to about 12%.

Truth: The concern about a low egg reserve is relevant to women who have already been diagnosed with fertility problems and are considering using In-Vitro Fertilisation to conceive. That’s because the procedure needs multiple eggs to be extracted for fertilisation. This ‘low egg reserve’ argument is a non-issue for women who are trying to conceive naturally. The thing is, if you’re only left with 12% of your eggs at age 30, that works out to more than 100, 000 eggs. You only need ONE egg to make a baby.

You Have Lower Quality Eggs

While a woman’s womb can be kept fit and fabulous, her eggs don’t have the same kind of longevity and resilience. Some of her eggs will die naturally as time passes, and the remaining eggs just get old! This results in miscarriages and babies born with Down syndrome or other chromosomal abnormalities.

Truth: It is true that ‘older eggs’ don’t perform as well. The chances of the chromosomes dividing improperly, and the body in turn rejecting the embryo are higher in mature mothers. However, this experience is not exclusive to women in their 30s, and miscarriages are more common than we think for fertile women of all ages. While chromosomal abnormalities are more likely with older women, most children born with Down syndrome are born to women under age 35.

You Will Have a High-Risk Pregnancy

An older body is less tolerant of the demands of pregnancy, and so it is standard procedure for medical professionals to inform mature expectant mothers of the risks they face like hypertension.

Truth: Pregnant women of all ages will be at risk for complications if they have existing health conditions like high blood pressure, diabetes, kidney disease and obesity. So, it is not just for older women. Yet, if a healthy woman has become pregnant for the first time after age 35, then she needs to realise her body may or may not ‘go with the flow.’ She is more likely to have a cesarean section delivery, prolonged labour, among other things. Unlike teens (who are also high-risk during pregnancy), a first time mom aged 35 or older, is more likely to be well-educated and have better finances. As such, she is more likely to make better preparations for pregnancy, gain access to higher quality healthcare and make better health-supporting lifestyle choices.

Myths will always abound, and statistics can be deeply flawed. For women 35 years and older, the key is to be strategic when trying to conceive by tracking their cycles and timing intercourse for when they ovulate. Then throughout pregnancy, they need to practice self-care to help the body manoeuvre the 9-month transformation including any negativity they face for being over 35.

Запись Have We Been Conditioned to Panic? 3 Myths About Pregnancy Over 35 Debunked впервые появилась Baby & Blog | Celebrating Black Mommyhood.

By Lindsey Avink

Late New Year’s Eve, my husband and I sat on the scratchy loveseat in my parents’ basement and clinked our wine glasses in the blue lights from the Christmas tree.

We named blessings and funny moments – a great meal at Girl and the Goat, potty training our daughter for a ridiculous nine months.

And then, lump in my throat, we toasted to miscarriage.

We lost two babies in 2013: one in June, one in October. Two babies in five months. In some ways, it defined the year.

One miscarriage brought me to my knees. The second one knocked me on my back. I ache for the women who have lost many babies.

By God’s grace, I’m standing. Hopeful, though shaky at times. Our year of miscarriage was a time of deep pain and great growth.

Coping with losing babies

The thing that actually helped me the most through both through both miscarriages was having them at home. The first time, when I first started to bleed at 11 weeks, I knew what was happening. I hadn’t felt sick for a few weeks, and was kind of faking it when I would announce that I was sooo hungry. That Friday night, an ultrasound showed no heartbeat and a baby that didn’t look 11 weeks old. I wanted to jump off the table and run home. My midwife didn’t push a D&C, and promised support at any time if I needed it.

It was tough to wait for the process to happen by itself. I actually saw a chiropractor on Monday to see if a pelvic alignment would help. It did, and the whole thing was over two days later. It was terrible, I won’t lie. But having to fully experience my womb purging itself set my heart in motion to do the same thing.

Purge the expectations and hope, the dreams for our family. My due date was late December. I kept dreaming of a homebirth by the light of the Christmas tree.

When the second miscarriage started, I knew I wanted to stay home again. Lay in my bed and let the new dreams fade away. Cry out to God. Hug my kids and hear their laughs. I was only seven weeks along, so the physical process was easier this time.

Naturally at home was the right for choice for me, but I could imagine many scenarios where I might opt for a D&C. I have a friend who started miscarrying a few days before a vacation to Florida. Who wants to lose their baby and give up the beach?

During both miscarriages and for a while afterward, I let my mind wonder. I imagined each child – how they looked like their older brother or sister or their daddy when he was little. I asked God some really tough questions, and even just the asking has brought me peace. I shared it all with my husband. Through both losses, I leaned hard on him.

I leaned on my friends, too. One day, I was struggling to put one foot in front of the other – getting the kids out of their pjs seemed like too much. I felt listless and lethargic, and I had been that way for days. I texted my best friend and asked her to pray for me. She’s awesome, so she came over with her kids and hung out for the morning. We talked a little about my sadness, but mostly we were just normal together – making grilled cheese and breaking up sibling squabbles. Losing more than one pregnancy has made me feel really un-normal.

Renewed creativity has helped. The month after my first miscarriage I started playing percussion for worship at our church after a long time away from music. Making music is soothing to me, and it’s alive. Since I’m a doula and childbirth educator, it’s also just nice to do something that has nothing to do with pregnancy or birth.

As time went on, I started writing more. Mostly poetry for myself and a few short stories. Around my first due date, I wrote a piece for my husband for Christmas. It was the one sort of commemorative thing I did for that baby, and it helped.

I also coped by watching too much TV (five seasons of anything really is overboard) and eating too much sugar. It felt good at the time, but in the long run was probably not helpful. But it happened.

Growing from loss

While I’m still the same mama, wife and friend, having consecutive miscarriages has changed me. A part of me is sobered, experiencing a corner of suffering while knowing many others suffer much more. I’ve grown in positive ways too.

Most importantly, I’m learning to live in the now. After the second miscarriage, I realized that our house was still full of baby gear – a changing table, a crib. Bibs stashed close at hand, my pump at the front of the closet. I wasn’t storing it away because surely a new baby would need it soon.

I’m not pregnant, and there’s no baby coming soon.

So we packed it all away and turned the baby room into a play space – complete with an indoor swing! We decided to celebrate what’s going on with our living children and what is actually reality for our family. My kids love the swing, and it’s a happy reminder of the joy that lives in our home.

I joined a basketball league at our local gym. (This is laughable.) I’m not pregnant; there’s no reason not to.

I drank cheap wine and good beer over the holidays.

I’m setting real fitness goals that don’t account for fatigue or nausea.

I’ve stopped thinking about the future in nine-month chunks. I’m living in the now as best I can.

And I’m learning to give up control. In my head, I know that this is at the core of childbearing and childrearing. No matter how much coffee I abstain from or hormone-balancing therapy I get, I have no control over what happens next.

I’m simply putting one foot in front of the other, listening to my kids laugh, and trying to play basketball.

Lindsey Avink lives in and loves the west side of Chicago with her husband Mike and her kiddos – Caleb, 4 and Lily, 2. She works part time as a doula and childbirth educator and is fascinated by all things birth. In winter she likes to bake with sourdough, and in summer she likes everything. In all things, she is covered with God’s grace.

Запись Coping and Growing: How I Survived Two Miscarriages in 2013 впервые появилась Baby & Blog | Celebrating Black Mommyhood.

Studies show that up to 20% of pregnancies end in miscarriage, yet it’s something that we don’t often talk about. Top hair blogger Curly Nikki surprised her fans when she revealed the details of her recent miscarriage. Her thoughts are re-posted here with permission.

I know I’ve been ghost. And there’s a good reason… so let me start by saying this: there are some things that we as women just ‘don’t talk about.’ With the relationship I’ve developed with you all over the years, though, it made me ask myself, ‘why not?’ #Spoileralert…there are some definite TMI moments in the coming paragraphs.

So, I’m on the flight back to STL from Greensboro and I was gassy as hell. Like, gastrointestinal distress. Like call the gas company and tell them they have a new supplier. Both ends. Not cute. I assumed it was the Southern Fried Chicken. Or rather, the Southern Fried Chicken, plus the Country Fried Clam Strips and Catfish I had later that same day. So after an uncomfortable and rather embarrassing flight back to the LOU, I immediately went to pick up Grandma for some quality time – the reason for my extended STL visit. On our way back to Mom’s, we stopped at the grocery store ’cause Grandma wanted a damn scratch off. We separated at the front door, and I made a bee-line for the antacids. Somewhere between the fruit snacks and the tampons I realized I was late. A week late. Like, LATE-LATE, like, ‘awwww shit!’ LATE, and decided to pick up a pregnancy test.

As soon as we got to Mom’s, I ran to the bathroom, ripped open the box and pee’ed on the stick. I was damn near mid-stream when the positive results revealed themselves. I remember grinning from ear to ear before promptly phoning hubby to divulge the good news. We weren’t ‘preventing’, but we also weren’t ‘trying’ so it was a pleasant and much welcomed surprise. I won’t lie though, my thoughts were racing:

1. How in the entire hell will I make it anywhere even 30 minutes late with 2 kiddos?!
2. How could I possibly love another kid as much as I love Gia?! (f’ed up, I know)
3. This needs to happen. But I’m getting my tubes tied immediately following.
4. I don’t wanna get fat.
5. Please lord let this child have more airport manners than Boogie.
6. That post partum shed, tho. I just got back some of my pre-Boog volume!
7. I’m pregnant, I’m pregnant, I’m pregnant! Oh happy day!

I wanted nothing but to spill the beans to everyone in the house (both my parents, Gia and Gma) but hubby reminded me it was only one positive test. He was right… and I’d knew he’d say that, but it didn’t erase my inclination to wanna BURST at the seams. So I told my Mom I needed to run to Walgreens for some hair conditioner (no line of questioning there!) and that I’d be right back. I got back with 2 early pregnancy tests and took one immediately.

++++++++++ Yes!

Oh, yeah. This is real. *dougie*

Hubby came over and just as excited as me, was like, ‘you really wanna tell your parents?’. I was like, HYFR, so we did. And it felt like Christmas morning /a good hair day/the first day of school all rolled up into one . They were elated, but Grandma… homegirl was over the moon. I told everyone to keep it to themselves until we got further along. We immediately went to his Mom’s house to share the good news. We didn’t even have to verbalize it to her… she could see it in our eyes, and was like, ‘you’re not pregnant?!’ Amped.

Fast forward 4 days. In keeping with her vow of discretion, my grandma had told all my uncles… aunts… cousins. I called her and she was like, ‘well… what do you expect… it’s good news and folks don’t get good news now a days!’. I couldn’t blame her and continued to bask in the glorious glow of the moment. I went to bed that night, a bit nauseous and more than content.

The next morning, I woke up and thanked God for many things, among them- such an uneventful and easy early pregnancy. I got up, cut the music on and began to get Gia dressed for the day. While attempting to french braid her hair, I felt a gush of something. *please don’t let it be blood*

Shit.

I immediately ran to the bathroom and there it was… a good bit of blood. On TEN, I called Hubby who was at his moms. As usual, he calmed me down told me he was on his way… his mom in tow, in the car behind him. He rushed me to the ER and my Mother-In-Law took Boog with her.

Thankfully, there was no wait at the ER and we checked in quickly. We were escorted to a room where I was told to strip down to my panties and socks. They took my blood, administered an IV and had me wait for about an hour. The nurse came in and informed me that they’d need to administer a urinary catheter as well. I was like, ‘for why’, and she was like, ‘to make your uterus more visible’. LAWD. A catheter?! Nothing you want. Ever. Not never. I was examined, given an ultrasound and four hours later, diagnosed with a ‘threatened miscarriage’ and sent home. When we got back to my mom’s, I looked at hubby and told him I didn’t feel pregnant… no porno boobs, no urgency to pee, no nausea. I felt empty and for the first time that day, I cried (if you don’t count that single, solitary tear that fell from my eye when the nurse ripped the catheter from my urinary tract). All the early preggo symptoms had vanished. It was over. Not hearing it, he told me we ‘didn’t know anything for sure’ and would need to wait. ‘Try not to worry’, he said. From Friday to Saturday I stayed in bed… feet up, eating, chilling… no cramps, no bleeding. I was cautiously hopeful. And then it happened. Last night, I began having what were unmistakably similar to contractions and bleeding excessively. Any hope I was holding out… dashed.

I can’t lie. It’s been very difficult. I had been on the forums, reading about others who’d experienced bleeding in early pregnancy, finding solace in the success stories and attempting to ignore the ones that ended tragically, but all the while feeling impending doom… and guilt from being on the forums in the first place… nothing good ever comes from that. I’m sad. Very sad. I had only just wrapped my mind around it… being a mom of two… holding an infant again… We want Gia to have a sibling and when the time is right, it will happen and it will be awesome. I’m confident in that.

For those of you going through this, please know that no matter how many times you hear, ‘it’s so commonplace’, or ‘whatever’s meant to be will be’ or, ‘thank goodness it happened so early, or ‘this shit happens’… that it’s still okay to be upset. To grieve. I’m familiar with the data. I entirely understand how statistically common it all is. But that doesn’t make me feel any better. Not right now.

Ladies, be sure to show Nikki love on her blog. Also, have any of you experienced miscarriage? How did you get through the grief?

Запись Natural Hair Blogger Curly Nikki Shares About Her Miscarriage впервые появилась Baby & Blog | Celebrating Black Mommyhood.