Maybe next time

Maybe next time....... all at once this phrase is both hopeful and soul crushing. I don't want there to be a next time. I wanted this baby. Just like I wanted the baby before that, and the one before that.
 I really can't believe I am posting about my tenth miscarriage, my third in the span of ten months. In too many ways the process is becoming routine. I get a positive test and try not to get too excited. But I always fail. I can't stop myself from believing, hoping, praying that this time will be "it", the time it sticks. Usually I go see my doctor right away to get blood tests, find out how things are progressing. But this time that didn't feel right. I was already on progesterone, the tests were not going to change any thing we were doing. So I decided to just wait. Wait it out for a few weeks and then go get an ultrasound when I was a little farther along. Driving into town for blood test, every 48 hours was just going to add unnecessary stress. So I took my progesterone and prayed. This time would be different. And for a few days it felt like it was. And then one morning it wasn't different anymore, it was horribly familiar. The punched in the stomach feeling was like an unwelcome old friend. I was on autopilot, calling the doctor, arranging for someone to watch the boys, driving the 90 miles into town. I tried not to think, I tried to be hopeful. "This time might be different, everything might be fine." But it wasn't.
Some days,no, most days I think I must be totally crazy. I have two beautiful and healthy boys. Why am I putting myself through hell, when I am already a mother, when I have already been so blessed? The simplest answer? I'm not done. I know deep down inside, on a very primal and spiritual level that our family is not complete.
And so every time the doctor shakes his head and says  "I'm so sorry." I reach down deep and try to find that hope, "Maybe next time"