“I Will Always Be Her Mother” — Miscarriage Stories


I recently read a quote that hit me hard: “Miscarriages are labor, miscarriages are birth. To consider them less is to dishonor the woman who carried life, however briefly.” - Kathryn Miller Ridiman. For months I’ve been thinking about this quote, reflecting on the women who carried, dreamed, labored, and lost but still need recognition that they carried a child and became a mother. I decided to commemorate Mother’s Day by recognizing this aspect of motherhood that is often hidden. My hope with sharing these stories is if you have experienced your own loss(es) you will feel less isolated, your feelings validated, and be able to resolutely recognize within that you are indeed a Mother. If you are reading this but haven’t miscarried, may you be able to allow yourself to hold space for these women and when you find someone you love who has gone through this experience you may have a better comprehension of what it means to have a miscarriage, and make a plan for ways you can better support your loved one going through this. 

I’m very grateful for the stories that have been shared with me and I honor the women I know that have shared verbally or written out their experiences.



I found out I was pregnant just a couple of weeks after Mothers Day in 2014. I was of course elated that I was going to be a mother. It was exciting to know that I was growing a little human inside of my body. The morning sickness was not fun, but welcomed as I knew it was a sign that my body was changing for this special soul to be able to grow. 

I went to my first doctor appointment at 7 weeks (I was really excited to have it confirmed I was pregnant, even though several positive pregnancy tests already did that). I was told it was still a little too early to hear a heartbeat, but just having a doctor confirm that I was pregnant was pretty exciting. I’d wanted this for a long time. 

Fast forward 4 weeks to my next doctor visit. I was itching to hear the little heartbeat of my baby. I could hardly sleep the night before. My husband was with me so we could both experience the first sound of our baby’s heartbeat together.

The doctor pulled out his Doppler machine. He searched for the heartbeat. My excitement slowly faded as the doctor searched with no success. He had a concerned look on his face, but told us not to worry, it could still be too early. He pulled out his ultrasound machine, and I got really excited when I saw what looked like a little bean on the screen. That was my baby. But there was no movement. The doctor noted that he didn’t see a heartbeat, and the baby was measuring a few weeks smaller than it should be. He wanted us to get a second opinion. 

I tried to stay strong. The doctor was sounding hopeful despite the concerning information we received. We went immediately to the hospital for a second opinion. The ultrasound done by the hospital tech confirmed what my doctor had. Our baby had no heartbeat and was several weeks smaller than it should be. So our baby had passed away a few weeks prior. 

I felt numb. I was not expecting this news. I expected that day to be a happy one. Instead I was left feeling empty. I felt like my body had betrayed me. I was so glad to have my husband there with me to comfort me and mourn with me. Though I could tell I took the news a lot harder than he did.

The results of our ultrasound were sent immediately to my doctor. He called me soon after to go over our options. He told us we could wait for my body to naturally expel the baby, but since it had been several weeks already that our baby had passed, that we could risk infection if we waited too long. He recommended I take a pill that would force me to miscarry, or to have a procedure done, called a D&C, that would remove the baby. I chose to allow my body to do it naturally.

I was still dealing with morning sickness, which was no longer a sign of my growing baby, but an ugly reminder that my baby was gone. It felt wrong that my body was still acting pregnant. I wasn’t able to focus on anything else, always waiting and wondering when my body was going to decide to release my baby. I was emotional and wasn’t sure how much longer I could wait. My doctor had given me a prescription for the pill that would expel my pregnancy. I hadn’t planned on using it, but after 48 hours of my body doing nothing, and my emotional state only getting worse, I chose to take the pill. 

It was awful. My body began cramping excessively. I had never experienced labor before, but now having had 2 children, looking back at my miscarriage I now realize that was what was happening. The heavy cramping was my uterus contracting, preparing to give birth to my tiny baby. It was miserable. I was in a lot of pain, and my body began bleeding heavily. I kept wondering if I had lost my baby yet.

I knew when it happened. I held my baby in the palm of my hand for a few minutes. I said my goodbyes. It felt wrong flushing her down the toilet or throwing her away. I wasn’t given any guidance on what to do with her when she passed. It took me a while to flush the remains, and at that point I felt even more empty than I had when I first learned we had lost her. 

The next few weeks were really hard. I really wasn’t sure how I was “supposed” to react to my miscarriage. I had known of several people who had experienced it, but never had anyone really talked about it. I felt like I lost a child. My husband seemed to be fine. I think that almost made it worse for me. I had no one to empathize with me. I received a few comments from friends and family that were meant to help, but only hurt.

I’m grateful for several women since my experience who have shared their stories, and who helped me feel validated in the way I felt about my miscarriage. Having another baby wouldn’t replace this one. No matter how long she lived inside of me, she was a person. She will always be my baby. And I will always be her mother.




July 26, 2017
I usually don't share things so personal, but I want to be open about our experience in hopes that it will help someone else and end some of the silence and stigmas surrounding miscarriage. 

I remember the morning vividly, Adele had woken up at 6am and wouldn't go back to sleep. I decided to take a pregnancy test, as I had every other day for the past week, because I just knew I was pregnant. Except this time was different because I saw the word "yes" finally appear on the stick. I was so shocked and happy. I told Adele right then "Baby, you're going to be a big sister!".

I called Leland a few hours later and told him. He wasn't very excited, mostly just shocked, we both were, as this pregnancy had not aligned with "our timeline" of how we planned things.  A part of me will always regret not being anything but excited and grateful to be pregnant.

It didn't take long for us to get excited. As time went on we made plans and dreams for our baby, talked about names and what gender we thought this one would be. There wasn't an hour that went by that I was pregnant that I didn't think of the baby.

We hadn't planned on telling Esther so soon, but one morning as soon as she got up for the day she came to me and said "Mama, you have a baby in your belly?" I told her yes, and that the baby would be born in March just like her. I like to think she had a special connection to this little spirit, since she somehow knew about the baby before I even told her. Later I bought a pregnancy book and she loved looking at all the pictures and seeing how big the baby was each week.

I had put off telling anyone else because I kept waiting for this pregnancy to feel "real". Maybe it's because it was such a surprise, or because I was busy with two toddlers, or maybe it's because of what would eventually happen, but for whatever reason this pregnancy kinda always just felt like a dream.
Finally, after what seemed like forever of keeping this big secret, we told our families, and we didn't even get to telling all of them before the bleeding started. As soon as that happened, I just knew. We were due to leave for our family camping trip in a couple of days and I really wanted to go. I prayed that if this was a miscarriage that it could happen quickly and easily so that we could still enjoy our trip. Blood tests and ultrasounds confirmed what I had felt, that it was a miscarriage. We were still able to go on the camping trip and enjoy spending time with family  

Emotionally it has been hard. Even though our baby was small, we both loved him/her so much. When I was pregnant with Adele, I had an ultrasound at 8 weeks (pictured above). I couldn't believe how much she looked like a real baby, fully formed with a heartbeat and arms and legs wiggling around on the screen. She was as much a person then as she is now. . . .

We don't know why this happened and we probably never will, but I do have faith that this little spirit belongs to our family and whether it be in this life or the next that we see him or her, they will be with us forever.



We were expecting baby #3 in March. My due date was March 11, 2017. We were all so excited. It took 7 months to get pregnant this time. The boys could not wait. We had it all planned out. 

I'll try to start at the beginning. I went to my check up September 1st at almost 13 weeks and heard a good strong fast heartbeat. I was still so shocked I was finally pregnant. I had even felt the baby move a handful of times. I remember telling the midwife that at the appointment.  Cory and I thought about announcing on social media that we were expecting #3. I told him I'd wait for the weekend. A week and a half later on the 11th, I flew to Utah for a few days to be with Maddison and meet baby Leif. We had a great few days. I also didn't feel like I wanted to announce anything on social media. So I didn't and thought I would maybe after 20 weeks. As Maddison drove me to the airport to go home, I remember having a very worrisome feeling. I hadn't felt the baby move in awhile. I remember on that ride I kept thinking to myself, "Come on baby. Move for me." I thought I felt something so I dropped it after that--not wanting to overthink anything. 

I had talked it over with the midwife that I could have my anatomy scan a little bit early. It was scheduled for October 6th. I was going to be 17 weeks and 5 days. For some reason, as the 6th approached, I began feeling really uneasy about the appointment. I was feeling like I shouldn't have scheduled it so early. I needed to push it back a week so the baby would be a bit bigger and things would be seen easier. I prayed about it telling Heavenly Father that if I really needed to move the appointment, then let me keep the uneasy feeling. That feeling never went away. So I moved it to the 13th and felt so much better. 

I could not wait for the anatomy scan. I honestly felt I was having a girl. Cory and the boys always talked about having another boy. But I just kept thinking he was going to be surprised because I thought for sure it was a girl. 

Soon after I moved the appointment, I started feeling more and more worried. I noticed my uterus wasn't growing. I wasn't feeling the baby move. I knew in the back of my mind that the baby was gone. Every day I would palpate my stomach and find my uterus and push on what felt like the baby to get it to move--nothing. But I was holding on to whatever piece of hope I could. I looked at pictures of me when I was pregnant with Cade. I didn't start showing until 19 or 20 weeks and I didn't feel him move until around 18 weeks. I kept holding on to that. 

All of my close friends kept asking when my ultrasound was. Everyone couldn't wait to find out what I was having. I told my friends and family when it was and also told them my concerns. I felt like I had to prepare them for what the outcome could be. 

On Sunday, October 9th, I couldn't hold it in anymore. I took a shower and just broke down. I cried and cried all morning--alone so no one would know. Later that morning we were all sitting in bed together. Cory started talking about the baby and asking the boys if they wanted a boy or a girl. That's when I lost it again. Cory asked what was wrong. I tried my best to explain without saying too much because the boys were there. Carson picked it up though. His face fell. He dropped onto Cory and cried with me. 

That week I did whatever I could to keep my mind off of my upcoming appointment. Carson didn't have preschool. I had a few friends contact me asking for play dates. It was play date after play date. I thought how I had never had a week like that before--surrounded by friends. I also had quite a few miscarriage stories pop up on my Facebook newsfeed. I felt inspired to read them. And I also knew why. I cleaned my whole house that week. My sub conscience mind knew what was coming while my rational mind kept pushing it out. The night before the appointment, I was reading in The Gift of Giving Life. I was looking for something specific. But instead, every page I turned to was about miscarriage. I got a little mad and slammed the book down and went to sleep.

The next day was hard. I ended up spending the morning helping a friend to keep my mind off of things. When the time came, we dropped the boys off with a friend and drove to the office. I was so nervous but didn't say anything to Cory. 

We walked in the office and the ultrasound tech took us back before we even sat down. We got started right away. He asked how far along I was. With a knot in my stomach I said, "18 weeks and 5 days". He showed us with his hand how big the baby was and began the scan. The second we saw the baby, I knew it was gone. But I waited for him to say it. The first thing he said was, "The first thing I notice is the baby is small." As we stared at the screen he kept rubbing my belly with the wand and said, "This is where the heartbeat usually is." That was it. That was my cue. I could finally let go of all the hope I was grasping. My rational mind finally came around. I sobbed and sobbed. Cory seemed to be a little in shock. The tech told me he was sorry and went to tell the midwife. He came back a few minutes later to take some measurements of the baby. Then he gave us tissue and took us to a back room where the midwife would give us our options.

We met with Amanda that day. She came in and held my hand while I cried. Once I calmed down a bit, she told me this wasn't my fault and all those things we needed to hear. Then she gave us our options and asked what we wanted to do. Thanks to all the miscarriage stories, I already knew what I wanted to do. My mind had already gone over the options. She wanted us to go to the hospital that night or the next morning. But I pushed it back to Saturday so I could get my mom down to watch the boys. Amanda then informed me that Saturday was national pregnancy and infant loss day. I cried and cried more and just thought how odd that was. She told us the baby measured 13 weeks and 6 days. So I'm guessing it passed sometime before I left for Utah. Amanda told us Dr. Newman was going to be on call over the weekend and that no midwife would be there. But she assured me he was great. And I had heard wonderful things about him, so with that--we left after a big hug from Amanda.

We sat in the car and cried for awhile. I called my mom and texted some friends that were anxiously waiting to find out what we were having. After an hour we got the courage to go get the boys. Our friend Emily who was watching the boys asked how it went. But I just cried and shook my head. Cory cried with me as we told her the details. Once we were ready to go, she went to get the boys from upstairs. We hadn't said anything to the boys yet. But Carson persistently kept asking if the baby was out of my tummy now. I was so confused why he was asking me that. I wasn't ready to even answer that. But I had to because he wouldn't stop asking. So Cory and I told them the baby went back to Heavenly Father and that we would still have another baby, just not right now.

We spent the night telling our friends and family. I was so thankful I hadn't said anything on social media. Emily was so kind and dropped off ice cream and cookies. I don't think I stopped crying that entire evening. I was also mad--mad that I had moved the ultrasound to a week later. Why did I feel like I needed to do that? Why couldn't I have just gotten this over a week before? It didn't make sense.

The next day Friday was a blur. The boys were supposed to play with a friend but Carson wasn't feeling too good. I think we just watched tv and cleaned a few things to get ready for Grandma Alice to come that night. 

I kept wondering why this happened. Why did this happen to me? Throughout the day I had little inspirations come but didn't think much of it. I also wondered why my body hadn't let go naturally. Something odd did happen though--I usually am very hot at night. I live in Phoenix and don't sleep with too many blankets on. But for the past week, I was really cold at night. I HAD to sleep with all the blankets on me. And I also think I was starting to lose my mucus plug.

I had talked to Marci on and off since finding out. I remembered her saying something about knowing a bereavement doula. (A doula that helps with miscarriages and stillborns.) I decided to look them up to see if there was one here in Phoenix. There was actually one pretty close by that I decided to contact. She got back to me and was very helpful and comforting and said she would help me with whatever. I called Marci to see if she couldn't ask her bereavement doula friend some questions for me. To my surprise and a tender mercy from the Lord, Marci was on her way to see her at a doula meeting they were holding. Once they were done and she had called me back, she told me lots of helpful information. The most important being that my milk would come in. I was stunned. What? My milk was going to come in? That added a whole other level of emotions. She also told me to look at stillbirthday.com to get a sense of what my baby would look like at 14 weeks. My bereavement doula told me the same thing. But I was not prepared for that. I absolutely did not want to do that. I wasn't even sure I wanted to see my baby. I was scared. I went to bed that night feeling dread and fear. I didn't sleep much.

I woke up early that next morning. To my amazement, I felt completely different than I had the night before. I had an immense peaceful feeling with me. I felt confident at looking at pictures of what my baby might look like. So I did. I thought I would feel more sad and sick looking at it. But I was surprised when an overwhelming joyful feeling overcame me. I was happy to see that little baby on the screen of my phone that was gone. That baby had a purpose. That baby was extremely loved by our Father in Heaven. And so was my baby.

...We arrived at the hospital at 8:30 am.  It took forever getting checked in and for a nurse to come see us. I was very calm and collected. But I was freezing! I could not get warm. I had to turn the heater on in my room--in Phoenix when it was 95 degrees outside! The nurse kept bringing me warm blankets. It was so odd. I think it was my body finally realizing. We didn't get the cytotec started until 11:30. (My cytotec was administered vaginally every 4 hours. It was pill that was supposed to dissolve right next to the cervix. But when you're body is not supposed to deliver, your cervix is very high. So it was very uncomfortable having the nurse try to stick her entire arm up my vagina.) After the first dose, I started feeling a few contractions. But it fizzled out to just cramping. Cory and I were so bored. We watched TV for a little while but it was odd to just sit and do nothing but wait.

At 3:30 I was given another dose. I started having major contractions that I really had to focus and use my hypnobabies for. The contractions were right on top of each other. Hypnobabies is seriously so amazing. I really didn't see my contractions as pain. I was totally fine and didn't think I wanted pain medication. I made a sarcastic comment to Cory that the baby would probably come and nobody would be here. It was funny because I needed to be up. I leaned against the top of the bed just the way I gave birth to Cade. Then I felt like I had to walk around. So I did that. After an hour, contractions slowed down.

The hospital was having a ceremony in a garden outside for national infant and pregnancy loss day. My doctor was speaking at it and one of the midwives was singing at it. So I wanted to go. It started at 5:30 and my nurses let me go since I was fine. My nurse Felicia wheeled me down--wrapped up in a blanket. I was cold even outside! The ceremony was very nice. Although it was eerie sitting there having contractions about to give up my pregnancy and baby. My doctor was first to speak. I don't remember much of what he said. During his talk, I heard a voice tell me, "This is why. This is why you had to wait." This was why I felt prompted to move my ultrasound. I needed to be at this ceremony and feel these feelings and understand what these other parents felt. One of the reasons I was told I miscarried is so I can help other people...

Around 6:30, we went back up to our room. I was getting tired of the contractions and told my nurse I was ready for some pain medication. She said she would put the order in and be back in when my doctor "okayed" it. So I sat on the bed, still in my sweats from being outside, and waited. I had a plan. As soon as she came back, I was going to take the medication and get in the bath. A warm bath sounded so good! I called my mom while I waited and got an update how the boys were. Cory and I also talked about the ceremony and the feelings we had. And I waited some more.

The next thing I knew, I felt a gush--followed by intense contractions! I thought it might have been my water breaking so I called out to Cory and tried to take my pants off to keep them from getting dirty. But I couldn't move. The pressure was so strong. It was comparative to transition in normal labor. I told Cory to take my pants off and call the nurse! The nurse came in and said it was just blood and to wait and see what happens. I asked if she was going to check me or anything but she said no. She was very sweet. But I'm not sure she had much experience with this sort of thing. I knew it was time. The doctor still hadn't gotten the order so I laid there focusing on relaxing. I remember kind of yelling at Cory telling him it was a good thing I knew how to do this! It was tough. I told Cory to call Marci so she could talk me through it over speaker phone! But he must have thought that was crazy because he was like, " Uhhhh." Right then, the nurse came in with the new nurse--it was shift change. This new nurse Kim looked right at me and told me she had delivered lots of miscarriages and stillborns and knew what she was doing. She immediately gloved up and checked me. She said my cervix was very soft (duh).

I had a few more contractions and I jokingly told Cory this would be my first baby I delivered on my back! Kim checked me again and said the bag of water was right there. I could feel it. She asked me to bear down. I tried--but I felt so paralyzed. I don't think I did much. I think she helped it out because the next thing I knew, it was out! It came around 7:45. It happened very fast. It all came out together--the baby in the sack and the placenta. It was fascinating! Cory didn't want to see the baby so he was off to the side. But I asked him to pass me my phone so I could take pictures. How often do you see something like that? He sat right back down.

The nurse started breaking open the sack of water. We had to move the legs to see that it was a boy! I was shocked! I yelled out, "It's a boy!" That's when Cory got up and came to see his sweet boy. He was crying so hard. He wanted another boy so bad. It killed me seeing him like that. After Kim cut the cord, I just held him and stared. He was perfect. You could see every rib bone and his spine, his tiny feet and 10 fingers and toes. He was as long as my hand.

After awhile, the nurse took him to a different room to take some pictures of him. Cory and I just sat and cried...  We talked about naming him. But it didn't feel right. We couldn't even think of a name. We just couldn't. I often wonder why I felt he was a girl. I think there was a little girl with me after he passed, comforting me. I talked to my sister Eden recently and she also had a little girl spirit comfort her while she was in the hospital. I don't know if it is the same spirit or a different one but I thought that was cool.

The nurse took great pictures. I even asked her if she could take a couple more of just his feet. She was so great. She told me she couldn't get footprints but came back later to tell me she got them! She worked hard for me. I held him some more after everything was done. It was hard to hold him because since he had been gone for so long, he smelled like death. Every time I moved him, a little of his skin would slough off. But I still stared and stared. He was a baby--even at 14 weeks...

The hospital gave us all kinds of options as to what to do with his body. We felt good about letting the hospital take him and eventually end up in an angel grave somewhere in Phoenix. I don't even remember the address. For us, that was right and okay.

I tried to rest that night. But got woken up by my doctor at midnight. He finally showed up. I did get pain medication. But not until after the baby came while I got pitocin to help my uterus contract. I guess my doctor has a hard time with loss. He didn't know what to say or do. I was disappointed no midwives were on call that weekend. It would have been nice to have more female support. The hospital put together a memory box for us with all kinds of stuff--his blanket he was in, all the props used in the pictures and forget me not flower seeds. Even a necklace with little feet on it. It was really nice. We finally got discharged the next morning around noon.
As sad and tragic as this was, I am in awe at how comforted I felt. I hardly cried the whole day. It felt like an out of body experience... He was my baby but ultimately, ...the Lord's. And that is comforting. 

- Celeste, rest of the story on CoryandCeleste.blogspot.com (shared with permission)



I have been wanting to write my experiences down because my experiences changed so much of how I think about my body, my spirituality, and my connection with my husband. 

My first baby I found out about in July. I was about 20 months postpartum with my son and was absolutely shocked. I was not feeling ready to be expecting again, but once I found out, although nervous, I was excited. I don’t remember the specifics of what made me feel like I should take a pregnancy test - I had missed my period but I wasn’t surprised as I didn’t get my period until 16 months postpartum so I figured it was just my body figuring out how to get back into the cyclical rhythm. I do remember my boobs aching with an insane amount of intensity, which was what happened to me when I was pregnant with my first. At that time, there was a bunch of family in town so when I took the test and it was positive, I tried to hide it but must have done a poor job since one of my sister-in-laws saw it. She asked another sister-in-law who said that it wasn’t hers and it must have been mine, so she asked my husband about it and he confirmed. I remember that the day I started bleeding was the day I was texting my sister-in-law who discovered the test about how excited we were and how we couldn’t wait to find out if baby was a boy or girl and how cute baby would be. I only knew about this pregnancy for a few short days, and they were so sweet. I remember revealing in this secrecy, my beautiful little secret. Eating my avocado toast thinking that I needed to have healthy fats for a healthy pregnancy and going to the beach, staring at a mom who was 9 months pregnant and thinking about how glorious it was to be pregnant. Wondering if my baby would share my sister’s birthday or not - my baby was due on March 21st and hers is the 23rd. I called several midwives and set up appointments to meet with them. On a Saturday, my husband, son, niece, and I went to LA for a day trip to visit a friend and my cousin who I hadn’t seen in several years. We walked a lot and loved our time. When we came home (we were living at my in-laws at the time) we told my in-laws about my pregnancy and they were super excited about another grand baby. I went to bed and woke up to a long, hard cramp. I went to the bathroom to pee and when I wiped, I noticed a slight tinge of pink and a little mucus. I was a little worried, but not too much as I had a few friends who had had this happen around week 7 of their pregnancy and everything went fine. In the morning it was a Sunday and I went to church and had more cramping. I texted my friends asking about this and they gave their advice. I think it was that afternoon that my cramping really started to pick up and become more like labor contractions. My in-laws had a cousin over who was spending the weekend with them, I remember lying on the couch enjoying the distraction of their stories while I cramped. 

Eventually, they got so intense that I had to go to the bathroom. I took my underwear off and was on hands and knees struggling to breathe through my contractions. It felt so surreal. To be laboring for this baby I had only known about for a week and to have people in the other room, who didn’t know. I lost a lot of blood and remember seeing it all over the tiled bathroom floor. I couldn’t believe how much blood it was, cleaning it up as I cried.  

My husband told his parents that night and the next day they took care of my son so I could sleep. I was so grateful for their help - it would have been difficult to rest afterwards without them doing that. I just remember sleeping for hours that day. My body felt so exhausted and heavy.  

I continued to bleed for a few more days, I remember getting more blood on the bedsheets and trying to clean it but it wasn’t washing out as hard as I tried. I called my mom and told her that I had been pregnant but miscarried and just cried. I texted one midwife to cancel but the other midwife i couldn’t tell, it was too hard to tell. 

I felt so emptied by that experience. It took me about a month to recover physically, I had a period (the day after I attended my nieces’ birth and serving her mother helped me feel so much more peaceful).  

About three months after my miscarriage, I got pregnant again. I remember feeling some cramping that was super mild and I remember knowing that it was implantation cramping. I knew I was pregnant for several weeks before I would be able to take the pregnancy test. I told two friends about my suspicions. I was so excited and grateful for another chance. I felt like I was glowing, I’m sure everyone could tell that I was holding this magical secret. I didn’t take the test until I felt my boobs aching intensely again. I don’t remember telling my husband or his reaction.  I do remember ordering pregnancy vitamin pills and this time we were in our own house (shared property with two other families). My neighbor came and said she had accidentally opened the package and gave them to me and in that moment, I just knew. I knew I was going to miscarry again. I shook that feeling off. A week later we called almost everyone in the family except my husband’s brother and my brother. My husband loved calling all of the family and telling them. I was due July 13th. Saturday morning we woke up and I had another pink tinge after I went pee. My husband called his brother and started telling him and I remember thinking “maybe I shouldn’t have him tell. I’m going to miscarry again.” But I was trying to be optimistic so I didn’t say anything. I didn’t call my brother to tell him though. I felt some mild cramping throughout the week but didn’t feel anything intense until Friday. I had agreed to watch a friend’s daughter because she had to work but her normal babysitter had fallen through. That afternoon I started having intense contractions. A guy from church came by and bought the bed we were selling, and he was a super nice guy and I just remember feeling these contractions and thinking that it was crazy that I was having a normal conversation when in fact I was in the middle of losing my baby. I wondered if he knew. I’ve seen him around since then and I always wonder if he guessed something was going on. I was still babysitting but the contractions were getting so heavy and real. Even more like the labor like contractions I had with my son than I had had with my previous miscarriage. The children were distracting so I turned on a movie for them. I waited until Ethan came home and I had him call someone else from church that I knew also babysat and had her come pick up my friend’s daughter (let girl's mom know that I wasn’t able to babysit anymore). My in-laws came and picked up my son. My contractions were so intense. I was in the bathtub. I was on my side laboring. Ethan was rubbing my back. Holding my hand. Squeezing my hips. Holding space. I felt so much gratitude for him. 

The next day we had several Christmas parties to go to as it was the week before Christmas. The first was my husband’s work party; I put on my blue skirt and my diaper like pad. We went there and they had a bouncy house and normally I would have wanted to go on it to play with my son, but I knew I needed to rest so I didn’t. There was a guy there who was teasing me for not getting on with Hugh and I felt frustrated because I just wanted to yell at him that I had miscarried the night before and to let me alone. But I didn’t. 

The next party was my church Christmas party and I went because I wanted the distraction but it wasn’t really distracting. A friend who lived far away was visiting her family and she asked how I was doing, and wasn’t I pregnant? I was so tired I just told her. And she then told me about her miscarriages. Although it hurt to have this question posed it was nice to know I wasn’t alone.

The week after, I took it slow. While Ethan was working, his parents watched Hugh a couple of times for me so I could get more rest. I remember Ethan rubbing my back, Hugh cuddling with me, and feeling so sad but loved by my sweet family.

My cramps became mild and almost nonexistent and I thought I was all done but the week after my labor I went to go pee and felt something slightly heavy slide out. I thought it was weird but I thought I had already labored out the baby so I didn’t think it was anything. I did look into the toilet and saw a glowing gold orb but had already habitually flushed the toilet. I wish I had just checked to see what it was. I always now wonder if that was my baby but I don’t know. After this I didn’t have any cramping or bleeding. Since then I’ve had several thoughts and experiences that have helped me feel comforted, but I’m not willing to share because they are too special. 



I miscarried twice in 2 years. I felt a huge sense of loss and emptiness. I thought I lost my babies and I mourned their absence. In prayer I sought comfort for my grief. Then I was answered by the Spirit with the most astonishing and comforting impression. I was told that I didn't lose any of my babies. The spirit that would have inhabited the bodies I miscarried is still waiting for my body to create a sustainable one for him. He wasn't lost, and never will be. He was just patiently waiting. A year later I gave birth to my beautiful boy, and it felt right and complete. I no longer have a sense of having lost any other children. It gives me joy that I still had the opportunity to bring this spirit into the world. - Rachel



So I found out I was pregnant on my birthday, October 14th. I was still very early. I practice FAM and knew when I ovulated so I tested at 6 dpo and got a positive. It was my first pregnancy and desperately wanted. I was so excited but also pretty nervous. I’ve had this fear of infertility for so long, even though family history proves we're very fertile. I think my desire to be a mother was so great that I was terrified of not having that opportunity. But, I kept pushing the fear to the back of my mind because I thought I was just being ridiculous.
Exactly 1 week after getting the positive I woke up around 3 or 4am cramping badly. I have horrible menstrual cramps and it was just like those. I immediately knew. My heart started racing as I rushed to the bathroom and as soon as I pulled my pants down I saw all of the blood. My heart broke. I sat on the toilet, bleeding and crying, for an hour and a half or so then cleaned up and woke my husband up to tell him. He held me as I sobbed. I ended up messaging my mom and asking her advice. At the time our relationship wasn't the closest, but she'd had 6 kids and multiple miscarriages so I trusted her with anything pregnancy related. She confirmed it was probably a miscarriage and suggested that I go in to make sure everything was passing even though it was early enough it should go fine. The last thing I wanted was to go to the hospital and I didn't have a set care provider at the time. I’ve had very few good experiences with doctors and hospitals so I was hesitant. After a few hours I decided to go in but didn't want to go alone (my husband had to go to school and work) so I met up with my MIL and told her I was pregnant and miscarrying. She was getting her youngest kids off to school then would take me in. However, while I sat and waited I changed my mind and decided to just go lay down in bed instead. I miscarried throughout the day. Every time I went to the bathroom I obsessively checked the toilet and pad for the baby. I knew it was so early I probably wouldn't see it, but I just HAD to look for it. At one point I did pass a slightly bigger clot that looked a little different. I thought that may have been something but I still have no idea. I just wanted to see my baby before he or she (in my heart I knew it was a little boy) was taken from me. At the end of the day I again decided to go in. I got anxious about the (very slim) chance that things weren't passing well. By this point my face was puffy and I had a splitting headache from crying all day. I again met up with my MIL who took me to the ER. They got me back quickly and placed an IV line, took my blood pressure, and took blood and urine for testing. The women at reception who took my blood pressure were so sweet, handing me tissues and reassuring me that sometimes bleeding happens and it doesn't mean it's a miscarriage. I knew though. Sometime later they wheeled me back for an ultrasound. Because it was so early they had to do a transvaginal ultrasound. it was my first experience with one and was uncomfortable. She had to move the wand around inside of me to get images and I remember it twinging and hurting. I also remember I had to get up afterwards to clean up and get my skirt back on. They didn't give me anything to hold on myself so I remember being embarrassed that I was dripping blood and lubricant along the floor to the bathroom. It took a few minutes to clean it all up from the drips on my legs. I felt gross, like I needed a shower. I was also uncomfortable with having to walk butt naked in front of my MIL. she looked away graciously but it was still uncomfortable. Randomly, I do remember during the ultrasound we saw my kidney and they commented on how good it looked. I also remember the screen being pretty blank inside my uterus, but obviously the tech couldn't say anything. She was very nice, though. Throughout the ultrasound she made light conversation. I was wheeled back to the triage room and waited some more. I'd had the same ER nurse during my entire stay and she came in soon after and let me know they were just waiting for the doctor to review the results and come tell me. We waited for a very long time and eventually the nurse practitioner came in. I could tell the doctor was busy and they just needed to discharge us so they sent her down. She walked in and said "So, you've had a positive pregnancy test?" I responded that I had, I'd had 3 different tests (different types even) on different days that all came back positive. She replied "Well... You’re not pregnant. Your blood and urine tests came back normal and your uterus is empty and shows no sign of ever holding a pregnancy. You were never pregnant."

I felt like I'd been slapped in the face. I KNEW I was pregnant. I'd had 3 positive tests on different days! I FELT pregnant, I was already having symptoms. And yet here was this medical professional telling me I wasn't. I felt crazy. I genuinely started to wonder if I'd just made it all up. I was embarrassed because my MIL was in the room and I remember thinking she'd think I was insane and a liar. When she left the room the nurse came back in and asked "she told you the results?" When I confirmed her reply was "Good news, right?!" with a huge grin on her face and a very chipper voice. I felt even more invalidated. I was silent all the way home. As soon as we got back to her house I got in my car and drove home. I felt both angry and sad and numb. I just laid in bed until my husband got home.

I remember grieving for a few months. But I felt like I wasn't allowed to grieve because "I was never pregnant". I KNEW that was bullcrap but didn't see how I could argue against the medical professionals. I kept the underwear I'd bled all over when I started miscarrying. It's gross, but I NEEDED something to show my pain, something to remember by. I did eventually throw them away months later. I would often go back and look at the pictures I had taken (I took pictures of the blood and clots to show the doctors if they needed to know how much blood I'd lost) and looking at the pregnancy tests and underwear. I would often go into my top drawer and pull out the onesies I'd bought to announce my pregnancy to my husband. The initial sharp horrific pain dulled quickly, but then it was the constant ache that I was left with, and still the invalidating comments ran through my head.

I got pregnant again a few months later when we were ready to try again. I was so anxious. I wanted so desperately to be a mom but I didn't know if I'd survive going through the pain of a miscarriage again. I tested every single day for about a week starting at 8dpo. After that, I tested every 2 or 3 days for about a week. I would try to go longer but I'd get anxious and test again. I HAD to know it was still progressing. I did finally stop testing and grew more confident as the days passed. It wasn't until my first prenatal with my midwives that I felt validated in my miscarriage. One of the questions I was asked was if this was my first pregnancy. I explained that I had gotten positive tests and felt like I was but the doctor told me I wasn't. My midwife was appalled and in frustration said "you'd been miscarrying all day! An empty uterus doesn't mean you weren't ever pregnant, just that you'd passed everything already! Seeing how early you were it's not surprising you passed it quickly."

FINALLY I felt validated. Finally I felt like I was allowed to say I had been pregnant and I was allowed to grieve. Her simply telling me was enough to give me peace. I didn't need to grieve anymore. I was able to move on to honoring my baby with peace in my heart.

My beautiful son is here and healthy and 6 months old now. I know I want more in the future (already have the baby fever!) but a small part of me is still anxious for those first few weeks of pregnancy. Anxious at the possibility of experiencing another one.