Pregnancy after loss
I appreciate the love and support we’ve received since announcing our pregnancy. It was a difficult decision to even announce at all, but we want to celebrate our newest addition just as we did with our first two. This baby was so very wanted and prayed for and I feel so blessed to carry and grow another beautiful soul.
I haven’t posted in a while and that’s due to many reasons— but the biggest is that I simply have not had the words. This pregnancy has been such an emotional roller coaster and it’s been so hard to try and even express how difficult it’s truly been.
Today marks 29 weeks in my pregnancy, and while for most pregnant women this is a pretty insignificant gestational milestone, for me it’s the day I gave birth to Julia. This whole pregnancy has been a whirlwind of emotions, but getting to this point in my pregnancy has left such a heavy weight on my heart.
Coming to the decision to even try for another baby after we lost Julia was one of the hardest decisions we’ve had to make in our marriage. We’d always talked about having multiple children even before we were married and we were so ready for another baby. We spent months preparing for Julia’s arrival both physically and mentally and longed to bring a baby home and to give Joanna a sibling. My arms physically ached to hold a newborn baby. But on the other hand, my body was tired and needed time to heal. I was 7 months pregnant when I gave birth to Julia and I had given birth to Joanna less than a year and a half earlier. Between growing two whole humans and nursing Jo for an entire year, my body experienced so much physical trauma in such a short amount of time and I wasn’t sure if I was ready for that again.
Ultimately we came to the decision that we wanted to try again. But while every fiber of my being ached to be pregnant, the fear of my body failing me again was so strong.
After a few months of trying, we fell pregnant. Instead of the simple joy of a positive pregnancy test, I felt frozen with fear and guilt and sadness. I also felt excitement and happiness, but the overwhelming anxiety quickly overshadowed any joy. It’s been hard to fantasize about the future of this baby, knowing the horrible truth that it is not guaranteed. Sometimes I forget and I get lost daydreaming about bringing this baby home. I look forward to the holidays with a newborn and watching Joanna be the best big sister. I go crazy on Pinterest looking up matching sisters outfits and family photoshoot ideas. And then I am reminded of my living nightmare, that I had these exact fantasies when I was pregnant with Julia and then I held her lifeless, breathless body in my arms. I struggle with allowing myself to be excited for this new life and fear that I’ll be forced to grieve this one too.
With my other pregnancies, I would count down the days until my next doctors appointment just so I could hear the heartbeat or see the ultrasound. Now that is blended with anxiety and fear. There is an overwhelming feeling of excitement to see the baby again and how much they’ve grown, but fear that in the blink of an eye this can turn into another worst day of my life. I have to talk myself off a ledge that everything will be okay. This is a different pregnancy. Different outcome. But with Julia, everything appeared to be okay until it wasn’t. I am so fearful that I will hear those haunting words “I’m sorry, there’s no heartbeat.” I feel like I am constantly waiting for the other shoe to drop. Appointment after appointment, I am being assured that everything is okay, that she is healthy, but nothing gives me comfort anymore. We’ve been on the wrong side of the statistics already. A 1% chance of reoccurrence means nothing to me when there was only ever a 1% chance to lose Julia.
everything is triggering
I was nervous to share the pregnancy with anyone. Not nervous because I thought I would “jinx” anything, but more because I didn’t want to hear their reactions. Of course I wanted our families and friends to be excited for us, but I didn’t want the excitement to overshadow the grief we still and will always have for Julia. I didn’t want people to think this baby was a replacement. I feared people would want to just move past our trauma as we prepare for another new life.
When I became noticeably pregnant, I worried about the comments I would hear from random strangers. This the first pregnancy where I wish I could just blend in with the walls behind me. Of course there is never any malice. None of these strangers know my history or what I’ve been through, but the commentary can be so shattering at times it leaves me speechless.
Not too long ago I was in Home Depot with Joanna picking out a color for the nursery. I had a couple congratulate me and when I responded “thank you!”, they then asked “but what was the rush?? You’re going to have your hands full with two kids so close in age!!” and laughed. Immediately my mind went to well actually I should have 2 kids even closer in age but one died and here we are, courageously trying again and just praying for a healthy baby. But it’s never the right time or the right place. So I sit in my guilt where I completely disregard Julia’s existence, I laugh at their comment and say something like “wish me luck!” or “pray for us!” and part of me dies a little inside.
I hate when people ask if this is my first when I am on my own grocery shopping or running errands. I want to say “it’s my third,” but fear that people will ask me personal questions about my other two and I feel trapped. So instead I say it’s my second and that I have a two-year-old daughter at home. They usually respond with “that’s the perfect age gap!” and again, a part of me dies a little more inside.
Worst of all, I’ve found the number 1 question you’ll be asked when pregnant is “how are you feeling?” Such a loaded question. I recognize that when people ask this, they typically mean how do you feel physically. And the truth is, physically I am OK. Yeah, I am uncomfortable. Yes, I wish I got better sleep at night. Sure, my back aches from the added weight and carrying my toddler around.Absolutely am I tired as all hell. But overall, physically I feel just fine. But mentally? A little more of me dies inside with each passing day.
I know the questions and comments come from pure excitement and innocence, but what people forget about pregnancy is that it is the modern day miracle. Literally from conception to birth, everything has to go absolutely perfectly in order to get a healthy outcome. And while there is never any intended malice, words hurt.
Deja vu
Arguably one of the hardest parts of this pregnancy is that I am on a nearly identical timeline as I was with Julia. Sometimes, when I close my eyes and place my hand on my belly, I can put myself back to one year ago. And other than Joanna being one year older and a hell of a lot more mobile and vocal, it’s as if nothing has changed. Im in the exact same place I was one year ago.
At Joanna’s first birthday party, we announced our pregnancy with Julia to our family and close friends. One year later, surrounded by family, we celebrated Joanna’s second birthday and announced the gender of baby #3. There I was, pregnant again. Never did I expect to be pregnant for Joanna’s first birthday. Never! But her second too?
For the 4th of July my dad hosts a party every year with close friends and family. I remember last year at the party it was a couple weeks after we had announced we were pregnant with Julia and everyone was coming up to me asking how I was feeling. My response? “I’m hot and tired from chasing around a 1 year old!” and we would laugh. One year later and those same people ask the same question “how are you feeling?” And my response? “I’m hot and tired from chasing around a 2 year old.” An entire year has gone by and I’m in the exact same place.
The same clothes. Same activities. Same fantasizes. Added fears. A year later and it’s like nothing has changed and everything has changed all at once. I am 29 weeks pregnant. Again.
Seven months have gone by pregnant with my baby girl, Sophia Jean. She is kicking me and jabbing me so hard, doing everything she can to assure me that she is with me and that she is okay. I know Sophia was sent down from her sister above. But I will continue to hold my breath until I am able to hear and feel hers.