I will never forget the ultrasound where they couldn’t find the heartbeat. It was my first pregnancy. I told my husband, not to worry about coming to the doctor appointment, it was a routine 12-week check-up. We’d already heard the heartbeat at eight weeks with an early ultrasound. I never dreamed in a million years something could be wrong. The fetus had stopped growing at nine weeks. I called him from the doctor’s office crying. My doctor wanted to do a D&C that afternoon.
I healed, I got pregnant again. Around 10 weeks I lost the pregnancy, again. This time was a little easier, but also terrifying. I was afraid I would never have children. We visited a specialist, but he couldn’t find anything wrong.
I got pregnant again. We had weekly ultrasounds, I cried and worried a lot. About 20 weeks I finally started to believe this was going to happen. At 41 weeks, I had a baby girl and she was beautiful. Her name is Grayce and she’s now eight.
When we started trying for another child, I knew what to expect. I knew it might not be easy and I might have miscarriages. I had three miscarriages. They were all very early in the pregnancy. Eventually, I had a perfect baby boy. His name is Grant and he’s now four.
When you have a miscarriage, you become a part of this secret club no one talks about about. It’s lonely, scary and heartbreaking. I saw pregnant women everywhere. It is exhausting. But you aren’t alone, there are thousands of us out there, just like you. Talk to friends, tell them what happened. Mourn, grieve, cry, get mad. It’s okay. Stop feeling guilty, it’s not your fault. If you have other children, hug them extra hard. Give yourself time to heal.
– Heather Glenn