For 2023, I thought and prayed about what my “one word” would be for weeks. The word that was continuously on my mind was “heal.” Healing emotionally, spiritually, and mentally. For me, part of healing includes writing my story and acknowledging the trauma that I have endured.

In April of 2017, I received my first positive pregnancy test. I had waited and waited until two days before my period was due to take my test. I woke up at 4am because I was so full of nerves and just needed to know. I remember watching the tracker on the Clearblue digital test as they slowly, slowly, slowly blinked on and to my shock, the word “pregnant” showed up and I was so excited.

This pregnancy was picture perfect. Great HCG rise and strong progesterone increase from the start. Before my 8 weekappointment, I remember just breaking down in tears from worry about whether or not we would hear a heartbeat at our appointment and thinking how would I ever survive a miscarriage. Thankfully, when we got to our 8-week appointment, we heard a strong heartbeat and I immediately broke into tears.

Fast forward to January 2018, when I was 39 + 6, and I was induced (by my choice) and my sweet 8 pound, 8 ounce baby girl, AG arrived with a great delivery. Now that I know her personality, there was nothing stopping her from taking this world by storm!

After she was born, I went back to my regular birth control that I had been taking before we tried to get pregnant with Annalee. All was going according to plan until November 2020. I was late. On birth control, I was never late! My husband thought I was losing my mind, when I told him I was going to take a pregnancy test. To be honest, I thought I was a little crazy too. I remember going after work, getting a test and taking it right away. Again, the slow blink…pregnant. On birth control.

Panic set in. We were not planning on getting pregnant. We had a strong willed almost three-year-old, how could we do this? We were at war with ourselves. Obviously, we were going to love this baby no matter what, but how could we manage it all?! This wasn’t what we had planned. I went in for my routine blood work. HCG rose normally, but my progesterone took a nose dive. I knew this wasn’t how my levels were with AG and in my gut. I started taking progesterone supplements and had my next blood draw, my levels had increased. I began to feel cautiously optimistic, but my anxiety was off the charts. We started formulating a plan to surprise our parents with a Christmas announcement!

At about 6 weeks pregnant, I started spotting. I called my doctor and they suggested increasing my progesterone dosage. I began doing that, and the bleeding stopped. In my heart, though, I knew what was happening. At 8 weeks, we went for our first ultrasound. My husband drove and I cried in the car the whole way to the appointment while listening to “Thy Will” by Hillary Scott. The wait felt like forever to be called back for the ultrasound. The ultrasound tech put the wand on my stomach and we watched and waited. The silence was deafening. Our baby, our Little Bean, had no heartbeat.

After the hardest moment of our lives, we were sent to the waiting room to wait to see my doctor-where I sat with visibly expecting mothers. (This is a part of maternal care that needs to change! Mothers experiencing loss, should have a separate waiting area.) Because of how early I was, we had to wait another week to see if Little Bean’s timeline was off. The only way to describe this wait is excruciating. Instead of telling our parents that we were expecting, we had to tell them we were miscarrying instead. We went back the following week, and there was no progress. It was then that I was given the option to let things progress naturally or a D & C. I opted for a D & C because it was only a few days before Christmas and I did not want to taint Christmas for my daughter in any way.

So, 3 days before Christmas, my D & C was completed. Because of COVID, I was completely alone. My husband was only able to drop off and pick up. This just personified to me how lonely I felt in this moment.

One of the hardest things that I have done is to grieve one child, while still trying to muster the strength to parent my living child. Because this wasn’t our plan, emotions were all over the place. We had gone from panic, to acceptance, to excitement, then to gut-wrenching heartbreak and grief.

Looking back, I realize that to process my grief, I focused my energy into trying to get pregnant again and three months later, I was pregnant again! From the start, I was hopeful, Google told me that back-to-back miscarriages were rare. I went in for routine blood work again. First draw looked great! When my second blood work came in, I was shattered. My HCG more than doubled, but my progesterone once again, dropped. How could this be happening again? Thankfully, my doctor scheduled me an early ultrasound at 6 weeks so that I did not have to wait until 8 weeks. Again, the wait…gel, wand…and silence. It was like déjà vu. Because of how far along I was, we had to wait to confirm that it was another loss. A week later, there was no progress, and I opted for my second D & C.

After the second D & C, my primary care physician reached out to me. Because of the computer systems used for charting by the hospital and physician’s office, he was able to see my records. I will forever be grateful for his proactiveness and encouragement for running blood work! He had his nurse call and start the process and I was able to get in for any appointment in two weeks to begin bloodwork. At this point, I was grateful that I felt something was in my control again. All my bloodwork came back normal, but his proactiveness encouraged me to reach out to my OB for more fertility specific bloodwork. Upon completing the bloodwork with my OB, I was diagnosed with MTHFR. This diagnosis is controversial in the fertility world of whether or not it actually contributes to miscarriages or not, but the treatment for it is simple – a daily aspirin.

Fast forward five months post D & C, in October I found out I was pregnant again! This time, there was cautious hope. The chance of three consecutive miscarriages, according to Google, is 1%. Routine bloodwork gets completed. First round looks great! Second round, HCG drops. I was completely broken and hopeless. I opted to miscarry naturally this time. No one prepares you for the moment of passing your baby and the feeling of emptiness that comes instantly. Three babies gone. At this time, I asked my OB to refer me to a fertility specialist.

During our first appointment, she threw the “kitchen sink” at me. I began taking several vitamins and iron supplements to see what happened. 

January 2022, our pastor preached on Romans 12: 12, “Be joyful in hope, be patient in tribulation, be constant in prayer.”

January 2022, the test reads pregnant. I remember going to tell my husband the news – with zero excitement. Not because we didn’t want this baby, but because we were so numb to hope at this point. At the fertility clinic, they only tracked the HCG because I started progesterone supplements at the positive test. HCG rose quickly! Now the wait begins…

Every single day, we prayed for this baby. This baby was covered in prayer by so many people.

On February 10, 2022, we went for our first scan. I had accepted that we would once again hear silence.

BUT GOD

After seconds that felt like hours, we heard our baby’s strong heartbeat. I will never forget that sound. After the doctor left the room, I lost it.

Pregnancy after loss is complicated. Even when you have good news, anxiety creeps in every day. My fertility doctor, thankfully, understood this and allowed me to come in for a scan every week until 10 weeks. Then, she lovingly weaned me from weekly scans because she knew that I was going to have to be on regular doctor appointment schedules when I was transferred back to my OB. There was not a day during this pregnancy that I did not worry. 

At my 36 week scan, baby was already estimated to be nearly 9 pounds. At my 38 week scan, baby was estimated to be almost 10 pounds! Due to baby’s size, I opted to schedule a c-section. However, baby had other plans. At exactly 39 weeks, my water broke, on a Sunday where I had no idea what doctor would be there. BUT GOD. Once I checked in, I asked the nurse who the doctor on call is – my doctor! Because of when I had eaten lunch and how fast I was progressing, I was unable to proceed with a c-section. When my doctor’s shift ended, the director of OB care came on shift. Together, they arranged for an additional team of nurses to be in there due to baby’s anticipated large size.

After 14 minutes of pushing, our sweet baby boy, RG, was born…weighing in at 11 lbs 5 oz! His size did bring some minor complications for both us, but after about 30 minutes, my baby was FINALLY in my arms.