Have you ever had that gut feeling? The one that gives you that sinking sense that you just cannot seem to shake. That is what I felt that day.

I had woken up with my heart racing from a dream I had – a nightmare, really.

In that dream, I tried so hard to save you. From what? I had no idea at the time. My only goal was to make sure you were safe, and even I couldn’t do that as your mom-to-be.

I went to work and tried to shake that nauseating gut feeling that I had. I was successful at distracting myself all day. I dove into a few projects before heading home early.

I walked into the house and set my things down.

That’s when the cramps started.

Blood, so much blood.

I sat on the floor of the bathroom for hours before my husband came home.

Until he came home, I thought I could make myself not feel.

I told him with a straight face, forcing myself to not show my heartbreak. I told him I thought I was losing our baby. I could see the pain on his face. He’s my rock though, always has been, and now wasn’t going to be any different.

He just held me, and didn’t need to say anything.

At that moment, I let the first tear fall, then the second, and third. Soon without realizing, I had surrounded myself with an ocean of tears. It was an ocean of dreams, of hope, of unconditional love. Part of me felt like I wanted to just float away in that ocean. Float away with everything I wished for you in this world. Every dream I had for you rushed away almost as quickly as it came. I just wanted to stay with those dreams and escape the reality of losing you.

When I went to the OB the next day, I sat in the waiting room, surrounded by pregnant women, eager to meet their little ones. I walked up to the receptionist who proceeded to ask me the reason for my visit. Saying the words “to confirm the loss of my pregnancy” made me want to run out so the other women didn’t see me lose it.

An hour later, it was confirmed. I was no longer pregnant.

As she began to trail on about how many women this happens to, and how we can try again, I tune her out.

For days and weeks following, I found myself going into the shower, just to cry and not be heard. I felt so much guilt and shame. Until I was just numb.

Sometimes I would forget, sometimes I’d beat myself up for forgetting. Either way, I have a hole unable to be filled. It would break my heart at least once a day.

Around 2 years later, I still have that hole. However, it is a little bit smaller. I have a little girl who loves me and looks at me like I’m the most amazing person in the world. She looks at me like I couldn’t look at myself for so long. She is that unconditional love I had been searching for. I think that is healing in a way.

Anyone struggling with pregnancy loss or infertility, know you are not alone. It may break you for some time, like it did me.

Something that I had a hard time with was the resentment that built up, for friends and family. Not everyone is going to say the right thing – they may say something that makes you feel even worse. Not everyone is going to understand what you went through or are still going through – and that is OK.

Just wait for that long awaited rainbow, in whatever form it appears in.