WARNING: This post contains sensitive information.

This may be the most important blog I ever write so if you’re only going to read one,make it this one.

I married my best friend in 2016. We agreed to wait a year to start our family. In that year of waiting we did everything we could think of to prepare for our family. I got a new job with great insurance coverage,we bought a house with more than enough room to expand our family, we started renovating the house, we got a “mom car” (Honda CRV!), we did so much to prepare as best we could. Little did we know that nothing could prepare us for what was to come.

July 4, 2017 was a fun day. We spent time with my family selling fireworks at our church then went to celebrate with my sister in law, her husband, their daughter, my father in law, and my step mother in law. It was pretty much the same as the same as any other 4th of July…until it wasn’t.

After celebrating with my husband’s family we went back to our church to finish the day off with my family. Once we arrived there I felt the need to go to the restroom once there it was as if I had started my period except it was 11 days early (at this point we were trying to get pregnant so I was tracking EVERYTHING). I went to get the necessary feminine products only to go back to the bathroom and find that I was not bleeding. In that moment I knew what was happening. I didn’t want to admit it to myself so I found my husband then I found my mom (she was a nurse for many years). As anyone would, they both suggested that my period was simply early until I explained how early. I saw the look in my mom’s face before she even spoke. We all knew in that moment that,at age of 25,I had just miscarried our first child.

The next morning I called my OBGYN. They got me in that day and, like normal, had me leave a urine sample in the bathroom while waiting to see the doctor. The first words out of his mouth when I walked in were “so you’re pregnant!”.After explaining to him what had happened he took an ultrasound that showed nothing then explained that our baby was likely only 2 weeks old. I gathered myself and left. Let me tell you, if you lose your baby at 2 weeks, 2 months, or 2 years it still hurts.

Fast forward to August (yes, it was soon but we were wanting a family) right after my 26th birthday we saw it again! Those two perfectly pink lines! Every fiber of my being was terrified. We had prayed and hoped that we would get to be parents so, naturally, we were also incredibly thrilled! We called the OBGYN and got an appointment to go in around 7 weeks. We went to the appointment together and saw a little peanut on that ultrasound screen. We were advised that it was too early to hear a heartbeat but that everything looked good, the baby just looked small. I didn’t think anything of it since my husband’s sister was a small baby, I think that may have just been my brain pulling me away from anything negative.

3 weeks later, while I was getting ready for work, there was bleeding. I calmed down, cleaned up, and called the doctor. I was in his office in 2 hours. I had told my husband to go ahead and go to work, that everything would be fine. That day his job just happened to send him about 2 hours away from home. I had an ultrasound, I was 10 weeks along but the baby was still measuring 5 weeks with no heartbeat. I couldn’t help but cry. I was alone (which I had done to myself), in a paper gown, being told that our second child had been like a tomato plant that didn’t take root (I kid you not, that is what the doctor told me) he then told me I had to go have blood work done then should go home and relax to “pass the fetus”. I went home (after getting blood work) to an empty house and the fear that I would never be a mother. The next morning (October 2, 2017) at approximately 4:30 am I, officially, lost our second child.

I realize, if you’ve read this far, that this is a very heart breaking thing. Rest assured, there is a reason this post is called “Hope after Loss”.

By the age of 26.5 I had lost two children but my husband and I never lost hope. We knew that we were going to be parents. We don’t know why it wasn’t to those two babies but we remained hopeful. Our faith helped us more that we can tell you, we helped each other more that we can explain. My husband held me for COUNTLESS hours as I just sobbed for our children. That time in our lives was not easy. It was a very difficult time for me especially because we had found out (in July 2017) that my sister in law was expecting their second child (I do want to take a second to thank her for being very aware of my heart and never making me feel like she was rubbing it in). I know, without a doubt, that there is not another man on this planet who could’ve went through this with me. This whole experience brought my husband and I closer than ever.

On Thanksgiving day in 2017 I decided to have some wine (sorry for telling my secret mom haha) to celebrate. I was expecting my period to start that day and, frankly, didn’t want to deal with the emotions that would come with it (this is a HORRIBLE coping mechanism). So, I drank about a half a bottle of Gina sparkling red wine (that is a shameless plug to some good wine and usually I can only find it at BevMo) and went on with my day. We went to see my mother in law and step father in law and have Thanksgiving dinner with them at their camp site. After a few hours there I told my husband we needed to go home because I really didn’t want to start my period outside of the comfort of our own home ( I couldn’t guarantee that the facade I’d had on all day would hold up). He, begrudgingly, took me home. Once we got home we decided it was time to go to bed since we each had to go back to work the next day.

When I woke up on Friday and my period still hadn’t reared its ugly head I decide to take test. It was 5:00 am and I didn’t have to get up for another hour but I got up, went to the restroom, and took a pregnancy test. Only one line. I tossed it in he trash and went back to bed. Now, prior to this I had told my husband that all I wanted for Christmas was to have a baby. Once, I was back in bed he got up to get ready for work, which always starts with taking a shower (he’s a morning shower person and I’m a night shower person so it works out for the flow of getting ready in the mornings). So he got up and I rolled back over hoping for at least another 30 minutes of sleep to find me. 30 minutes later that amazing man of mine wakes me up to tell me “Merry Christmas” to which I responded “it’s only November”. For those of you keeping up (and still reading) you know what he meant. He told me to go check the trash and right there, clear as day, two pink lines. I doubted that test so much. It was past the window of reading the test, it had been in the bathroom while he took a very hot shower, its a fake positive. A thousand reasons to not trust it raced through my head and I listened to them.

Luckily, I had to go into work for an hour that day then go home and do some online training. I thought about that test all morning and how it was the last one I had, so on my way home I made a stop and got some more tests (and a soon to be daddy card just in case). I got home, made lunch, took the test, and started the training with the test right next to me. As soon as the time had passed I looked at the test..positive. I gave my husband the gift when he got home and called my NEW OBGYN. 8 weeks later (4 days after Christmas) we saw our baby and heard her heartbeat. We had a picture perfect pregnancy until 15 weeks in. That morning history seemed to be repeating itself. February 14, 2018 there was bleeding and a lot of it. I screamed for my husband from the bathroom, he calmed me down, I got cleaned up, called the ER (it was too early for my OBGYN to be open) and was advised to go get checked out. We sat in the ER for 5 hours dreading every second. After blood work, urine samples, and an ultrasound we were told that it was a “missed abortion”..yes, some doctor looked into my eyes and used those words then sent us home and assured us that our baby was fine.

For the next 24 weeks everything was great. I went into labor on July 30, 2018 at 2:00 pm. Our beautiful daughter was born July 31, 2018 (39 weeks and 1 day) at 3:40 am. I always wonder if we would’ve missed out on this amazing girl if we had decided to give up hope and stop trying to grow our family. I don’t want anyone reading this to feel like I am saying “oh, just have hope its easy”. Having hope in the middle of darkness is one of the hardest and bravest things you will ever do.

Over the years, I have tried to find ways to help with my grief (which I still deal with almost daily) and the BEST advice I ever read was this:

Do not forget your children, talk about them, do NOT worry about making others feel uncomfortable (this is one that was huge for me, I always felt like talking about them would make others feel awkward but it doesn’t matter-your children matter), and the best advice, NAME THEM.

That last advice I didn’t even take until 2019. On October 7, 2019 my husband surprised me by buying two trees and planting them in our back yard to represent our two babies. In that moment I decided we should name them. We spoke about it and we both felt that our first baby had been a girl and our second a boy. Right there, while watering those trees, we picked our babies names. We picked Emma and Bentley. That one small act took so much pain out of my heart and replaced it with pride. Pride in all my babies (2 angel babies, 1 daughter, and 1 son on the way) and everything that they have each taught us. Emma and Bentley taught my husband and I so much about ourselves. They taught us how much love we have to give and how strong we can be.

If you’ve read this, I hope it helps you find some strength to hang on to for whatever situation you are facing. If you know someone who has EVER lost a child, I hope this helps you realize that they are stronger than they seem even if you’ve seen them break down know that they are probably not showing you all of their brokenness. If you do know someone like that but don’t know how to help I suggest asking them about their baby, take them some food or coffee, or just offer to sit with them and do whatever they need (even if it’s just sitting in silence).

Thank you all for taking the time to read my heart poured out on paper.