Updated: April 4, 2020
Originally Published: January 14, 2017
Six months after we lost our first baby, I found myself staring at a positive pregnancy test—my first since the heartbreaking news of our loss. We affectionately named that tiny soul “Peanut,” a little being I carried for just nine weeks. The journey to conceive Peanut felt never-ending, and when we finally saw our first ultrasound, our hopes were shattered. No heartbeat. After two more ultrasounds confirmed it, the diagnosis was a “blighted ovum.” Ugh, that phrase still stings. I went through a natural miscarriage a few days before Mother’s Day, and while the physical pain finally gave me a brief respite from the emotional turmoil, it was still a haunting experience. My husband felt utterly helpless, desperately trying to support me while grappling with his own grief.
The aftermath of losing a child is challenging. We had been so thrilled to announce our pregnancy that sharing our loss felt like a gut punch. The common wisdom suggests only sharing the news with those you’d feel comfortable telling if things went south—well, we thought we were safe. Telling others about our loss was brutal, and the insensitive comments didn’t cease. Just a month post-loss, someone actually patted my belly and asked, “When’s the baby coming?” How could people be so thoughtless?
While most mean well, the reality is that discussions around fertility and pregnancy loss are deeply personal. My body, my journey—it’s nobody else’s business. The pressure from well-meaning friends and family only adds to the emotional weight of an already heavy situation.
Initially, I was eager to try for another baby right away. But with lingering pregnancy hormones keeping my body in turmoil, we shifted to survival mode for a few months. After about four to five months, my body finally began to regulate, and we decided to try again. I anticipated this moment to be smooth sailing, but surprise! A faint second line appeared on the pregnancy test one morning. My first instinct? Fear. I dashed out of the bathroom, exclaiming, “Do you see this second line?” Gone were the days of planning a cute announcement; we were in the thick of this together.
We set out for Christmas shopping, but I felt a pit in my stomach—nerves were running high. I was terrified to go home and confirm that I was indeed pregnant. After picking up another test, I took it and, lo and behold, it confirmed my fear—pregnant. I confided in my husband, who shared my anxiety, but still urged me to stay calm. Yet, every twinge and gas pain filled me with dread, reminding me of what we had lost.
A week after Christmas, I started spotting. Panic set in as my first doctor’s appointment was still weeks away. I called the doctor, who reassured me that spotting can be normal, but to come in for an ultrasound just to be safe. The dreaded Band-Aid was about to be ripped off again.
Sitting in the examination room, I made a conscious decision not to look at the screen. I was steeling myself for the worst. But when the doctor began the exam, her words were a shock: “There’s the sac, there’s the baby, and there’s the heartbeat.” My husband jumped up, exclaiming, “I see it!” I cautiously looked at the screen, disbelief washing over me. “There’s a baby and a heartbeat?!” I apologized to that little one for not embracing the joy of their impending arrival, but I was simply trying to protect my heart. I hoped and prayed for their little heart to keep beating because we were ready to welcome them into our lives.
For more insights on navigating this challenging journey, check out our blog on home insemination. If you’re looking for ways to boost your fertility, Make a Mom offers great supplements that can help. Additionally, for a wealth of information on pregnancy and home insemination, visit Facts About Fertility.
In summary, navigating pregnancy after a miscarriage is a delicate balance of hope and fear. Sharing your journey can be daunting, especially given the insensitivity of others. However, taking the time to process your feelings and seek support is essential for emotional healing.