I don't know if my story is helpful or not but here goes....
Back in the dark ages when I was married and trying DESPERATELY to have babies nothing happened for two years, then I had 3 miscarriages in less than a year-- all at 8 weeks. They were never able to figure out why, but before we go too deep into the testing my marriage fell apart.
I lived like a nun for 9 years and then had a naughty little fling with someone else's boyfriend and used the "Ha! It would take a MIRACLE" form of birth control. Even though I was almost 10 years older and almost a 100 pounds heavier I had a near perfect pregnancy.... Maybe it was the different father, maybe it WAS a miracle-- I don't think it was an accident that Isaac was concieved on the first Mother's Day after my mom died, but this S. has her Isaac!
I guess my only real advice besides specialists and NOT using the word abort is to space out their pregnancy attempts. There are no words to describe how grief and hormones feed on and magnify each other. Three miscarriages in a year, with the grief and hormones involved almost LITERALLY killed me.