I’ve always looked at the month of October as a wonderful time for fall festivals, pumpkin patches, sweater weather, and my favorite holiday, Halloween. But earlier this year we learned we were going to have another reason to celebrate, the birth of our third child. I was over the moon excited, I couldn’t have planned it any better. My husband and I were instantly in love and
beyond excited, we started thinking about names, planning the nursery, and imagining our life as a family of five. I even bought a shirt to announce our pregnancy to wear at our girls’ shared birthday party that went perfectly with the theme. In our minds we had nothing to worry about, we’re young and healthy, and we had already had two healthy pregnancies.

But one morning our hearts broke, I woke up in pain and realized our little baby wasn’t going to make it. All our hopes, dreams, and plans disappeared and left me empty. I was in shock, why would this happen to me, my baby? We hung onto a little hope until the doctor said my HCG levels were too low and that it was an unviable pregnancy. An unviable pregnancy, such a bitter and hurtful way to say your not going to have your baby. I was depressed, I had longed for that third baby for a long time, that baby was going to complete our family. We continued on with our normal life, I went through the motions as best as I could but every negative feeling kept consuming my mind. I felt so lost, I had always imagined my life as a family of five and now I had no idea what the future would look like.

I felt so guilty for being so apathetic around my family, my husband hated seeing me hurt and did everything he could. Our girls didn’t understand why Mommy was so sad, or why I needed extra hugs. Holding my girls helped me feel lighter and so grateful for them. As the weeks continued I began to return to my normal self while still imagining the tiny baby I dearly missed. Whenever I saw a newborn or a pregnant women I couldn’t help but think that should be me, why isn’t that me? I suffered in silence too hesitant to talk about what happened, I didn’t want and still don’t want anyone to pity me, I just needed someone to understand what I had gone through. I started to educate myself about miscarriages and was shocked to learn that 1 in 4 women experience this heartache.

Even though miscarriages are so common I didn’t know anyone who had suffered a loss. Finally a few months after our miscarriage I began to open up about what had happened and immediately felt relieved. Sharing my story about my miscarriage helped me and lead me to discover that several people I know had had miscarriages. We shared our stories, emphasized with one another, and left feeling less alone. It felt so satisfying to be able to talk about my baby and to share our short love story. I was so relieved to know that someone else felt the same way I did, that it was completely normal to feel such a loss from such a small person. There isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t think about my little baby and the life I keep imagining we would have had. It is difficult for me to talk about our loss, but I am sharing my story in hopes that someone else feels relieved that they are not the only one and shares their story to spread comfort and courage.