Think about all the women you know.
Think about your 4 closest friends.
Chances are at least one of them has experienced a pregnancy loss.
One in four pregnancies are lost to miscarriage or stillbirth. One in four women say goodbye to their child before they ever get to say hello.
Chances are that if you know a woman who’s experienced one pregnancy loss, she’s experienced more than one.
I am her.
This is my story.
When I found out that I was expecting our first baby I was scared. I worried about all the “what if’s”.
We had a textbook healthy pregnancy, she was born, and we were in love.
When I found out that I was expecting our second I was blissfully unaware. I didn’t worry. After all… last time was great.
Then at 13 weeks we found out that I had a “commonly complicated pregnancy” due to a subchorionic hemorrage. We were given the warning that we should be watching for signs of preterm labor.
Around 23 weeks I began contracting and was put on medication to stop contractions. Around 27 weeks I began dilating and effacing with the contractions. At this point we were prepping ourselves for a NICU stay but hopeful that our girl was big enough and strong enough to fight well.
Then it happened. Not preterm labor. Not a NICU stay.
At 34 weeks, she died.
After realizing I hadn’t felt movement for too long we went to be monitored at the birth center and were told that our daughter had no heartbeat.
Her umbilical cord, her life supply, was her demise. She was tangled in her cord.
3 days later she was born. Stillborn.
All my fears. Made real.
Life became something I never could have imagined.
We had plans. We had hopes. But everything just stopped.
My determination in life changed. I grew a passion for things I never knew could be important to me.
Our daughter’s life sparked in me a desire to make a difference.
She changed our world and I wanted to share that with everyone.
A year later we conceived our 3rd baby.
Fear. Worry. Anxiety. I just KNEW that everything that could go wrong WOULD. 39 weeks of stress.
But nothing did. It was perfect. She was born and we were in love.
Life was still incomplete without Daphne, but our hearts were full.
One surprising year later we were expecting our 4th sweet babe.
For some reason I couldn’t shake the fear. I couldn’t get past the worry.
Just 12.5 short weeks into her life, Hannah Joy also lost her heartbeat.
We learned later that she had Turner Syndrome. She could have lived but her life would have been very very complicated.
Here we are missing our second and fourth and never knowing who these girls could have/would have been.
Here’s where I say again… this is my story; but my story isn’t over.
We have hope for our future. We have dreams for what may come. We are joyful in the midst of the trial.
As odd as it sounds, I truly feel thankful for the journey that we’ve been on. It’s brought us closer together as a family.
It’s given us a deeper understanding of the fragility of life and a greater appreciation for the wonder of life.
We welcome October each year with heavy but joyful hearts.
We remember our daughters each day with heavy but joyful hearts.
We look forward to what the future holds for our little family with heavy but truly joyful hearts.
I am one in four. This is my story. And it’s not over yet.
