Pregnancy. It’s one of the scariest, exciting, and most infuriating times of life. Before I had my son, I had a miscarriage. Devastating doesn’t even come close to what I felt at the time. I blamed myself. I thought, “why did you drink that coffee” and “you should have eaten better” or my favorite “you should have been walking every day instead of being sick on the couch. Now look what happened. This is your fault.” I apologized and cried to my husband. The one thing I’m supposed to do as a woman, and I failed him. When I saw that positive pregnancy test, nothing negative came into my mind. I was just so excited, I wanted to share our news with everyone. I never thought I would be the 1 in 4 statistic that I now know all too familiar. 1 in 4 women miscarry. That is terrifying. I never thought that I would have to send out a dozen plus texts that said “lost the baby” and feel the utter pain that I felt. It was one of the hardest things I’ve experienced. What’s worse, is that we found out about the loss at our regular 12 week ultrasound. We had an early one at about 8 weeks where we saw and heard the strong heartbeat, so excited for this visit doesn’t even begin to describe what I was feeling, but I knew something was wrong when my doctor left the room to grab another ultrasound machine. She look concerned and then looked over and said the words, “I’m sorry, I don’t see a heartbeat.” You know in the movies when something really horrible/dramatic happens and everything slows down? That’s what that moment was for me. How could this happen after we already heart the heartbeat a few weeks earlier and were told that it was strong? That’s when she told me about the 1 in 4 statistic and that most times it happens because there was something wrong with the baby. I just didn’t understand. I still don’t, and sometimes it makes me angry when I think about it.

Fast forward a few months after my miscarriage and subsequent D&C procedure, and there I was, seeing that positive pregnancy test in front of me, yet again. I remember being happy, but fear and horrible thoughts immediately entered my mind. “What if I lose this one too” was the one that was on repeat for weeks. After a miscarriage, it’s almost like you’re frozen. I was paralyzed with fear. When you decide to start a family, a positive pregnancy test is something that should send you through the roof screaming with joy and happiness. In our case, this time we were more cautious about who we told. When I entered my OB’s office for each appointment, I swear it felt like I was holding my breath the entire time. Until I could see that little heartbeat on the screen, I wouldn’t say a word. Pure and utter fear. This time around we had a successful pregnancy. Our Logan came three weeks early, after 36 hours of labor, (again… stubborn like his mom) and our lives have never been the same. I still think about the baby we lost, and the hopes and dreams I had for it. I still wonder why we had to go through something like that, and I’m so glad that we made it out of the other side.

To anyone who is still trying for their miracle – don’t lose hope.
To anyone who has tried and lost – don’t lose faith.

Xo,

M