Tonight I came across the two positive pregnancy tests that I took a couple months ago. I immediately started crying, but then I started thinking of how I felt when I took these and saw the results. It was 2 days before Valentine’s Day and I’d wanted to be pregnant for months to no avail. I remember how excited I felt. How happy I was bc this was what I wanted! I remember that after I’d let it somewhat sink in, the stress started coming in with it. I didn’t have insurance that covered maternity. Could we afford another baby? What if something went wrong? Would Hudson feel less loved with a sibling? The thoughts flooded my mind and led to even worse thoughts such as, “will this baby even know me since I have to rush back to work after I have it?” I beat myself up for not being better prepared for something that I’d wanted for so long.
The weeks went by and we got closer and closer to my first prenatal appointment. The excitement grew bigger and the stress evened out some, but still lingered. As my tummy grew to accommodate the baby, the anticipation of that first ultrasound grew with it. My morning sickness had calmed down and all I could think about was the baby.
We’d talked about names. The girl name picked out, the boy name still up in the air. We were both so excited. We couldn’t wait to have another little one to share our love with.
It’s been 12 days since we found out we lost our baby. 12 days of crying. 12 days of wondering why. Why us? 12 days full of mixed emotions. Full of family. Full of awkward silences when people just don’t know what to say.
I’ve smiled and then wondered if that’s wrong of me. But I know it’s okay. I know I’ll never get over this. But I will get through it. Because I know that it happened for a reason. The timing wasn’t right. I didn’t have any goals for myself as far as a career goes. Now I do. In July I will go to school for 10 weeks to become a CNA.
I want to be pregnant again. I’ve researched it and everyone says something different as far as how long to wait after a miscarriage. I’m definitely not in any rush, but I do want to try again. Nothing will ever replace our angel baby. And I know that my next pregnancy will be full of fear. Full of sadness. Full of doubt. But nonetheless it will be full of love. We loved our little baby. And we still do. We always will. But it’s important to know that I can’t do anything to change what happened. And dwelling on it will only make me more miserable.