Miscarriage & Loss

I am 1 in 4 – 1 in 4 women that has had a miscarriage. I am also in the less than 2% of women who have had an ectopic pregnancy. I’ve been pregnant three times, and two of them have ended in loss. 

My husband and I were living in Seattle, Washington at the time I found out I was pregnant for the first time. We were in the process of moving to San Diego, California, as my husband is in the military and we were PCS’ing. Our trip to San Diego was supposed to be this beautiful, relaxing, long road trip down Highway 1 but the universe had different plans. One day into our trip, at our first stop in the Hoh Rainforest, I started having complications. I ended up miscarrying within a few days. We had hopes of arriving in San Diego expecting a baby and now we were grieving the loss of something we had dreamed about. I was five weeks along when I miscarried. As my first pregnancy, it was devastating and very hard to comprehend, despite how common we learned it was. Within a matter of seconds your whole life changes – you talk about baby names, you think about the nursery, you plan the next 18+ years of your life. And in a matter of seconds, that was stolen from us. I never planned on getting pregnant again so quickly but one month following my miscarriage, I became pregnant again. This pregnancy was different. I was more cautious, more anxious and very scared. I didn’t tell people right away. I didn’t think about baby names or nursey plans yet. Every baby item I purchased, I was scared I was jinxing it and would lose this baby as well. I was scared it was going to be taken away from me again. But the pregnancy progressed, I started showing, we learned it was a boy, we picked out his name (Griffin), and he was born at a healthy and whopping 9lbs 7 oz just three days after my own birthday, on March 23, 2023. My entire pregnancy with Griffin was anxiety-ridden because of the result of my first pregnancy. For nine months, I woke up thinking the worst was going to happen. It was the longest nine months of my life. I envied the women who enjoyed their pregnancies because not only did I experience extreme morning sickness, exhaustion, heartburn and sciatica, I was also trying to keep my mind off the worst-case scenario because of my past experience. My son was the light at the end of the tunnel, the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. His presence helped heal me in ways I didn’t know were broken. As painful as my miscarriage was, I can’t say that I wish I never had to experience a miscarriage, because that would mean that I wouldn’t have my son. Although I have had loss, it makes me more grateful for my son. 

When Griffin was 14 months old, we decided to try for a second. I initially wanted a bigger age gap but the older my son got, the more I missed the newborn stage. I figured by the time we started trying, it would be at least 6 months before I actually got pregnant again, but boy, was I wrong. Within one month of trying, that pregnancy test popped positive. Again, you start making plans, you start talking about baby names, you plan for the future, and we couldn’t wait to see Griffin as a big brother. Shortly after finding out I was pregnant for the third time, I started having complications again. I had deja-vu from my first miscarriage and thought the worst. What I thought was going to be a miscarriage, ended up being a ruptured ectopic pregnancy resulting in the removal of my fallopian tube. For the second time, our future was stolen from us in a matter of seconds. This time around, we grieved differently. It was our second loss in three years and both my husband, and I couldn’t help but wonder why. While the miscarriage and ectopic pregnancy were both completely unrelated and just bad luck, we couldn’t help but think there was something wrong or something we needed to do differently. 

As women, you tend you blame yourself when something like this happens. You wonder if it was something you did, when in fact there is nothing that could have prevented it. I felt helpless after my losses. My body was designed for this, made for this – so why has it failed me, twice now? You see so many of your friends post pregnancy announcements with no complications, and you wonder – why me? 

I used to say “I was only five weeks” when people asked about my miscarriage. Or “I was only six weeks along” with my ectopic pregnancy, but I’ve since removed the word “only.” The word “only” diminishes your feelings, diminishes the significance of what you lost. A loss is a loss, no matter how big or how small. And you should never make any apologies for how you choose to grieve and process your loss. 

Since these losses, I’ve found a new appreciation for my body. As mad as I was at my own body after these losses, I’ve since accepted the fact that this will forever be a part of me. These scars are bittersweet. They are a constant reminder of what we lost, but also a reminder of what we have. We have a beautiful son, and I wake up every day knowing I get to experience this life with him. I know that when the time comes, he will be the best big brother.