I was pregnant. I had a miscarriage. I am grieving. I am trying not to be ashamed of these things. 🌸🌸🌸
In April when Alex and I found out we were going to parents, after what felt like a long journey to pregnancy, we were so thrilled. We found out early, I was only 4 weeks along.
We planned to keep this completely to ourselves for for the first 3 months but the excitement took over and we started telling people right away.
By 8-10 weeks pregnant I had planned our public announcement, we had told a few of our close friends and our family members were in the know. We had seen our baby’s picture and watched their heart beat. Our lives were so different and we were so excited.
I woke up one morning feeling like something wasn’t quite right, I tried not to panic and I called my nurse. She could hear me struggling to communicate with her and she told me to come in, if only for piece of mind. 🌸🌸🌸
That day and the month that has followed have blurred into tiny fragmented memories of loosing our baby and the future we had envisioned so clearly for the three of us.
I have kept my grief pretty private. More private than I kept my pregnancy. I don’t want to be ashamed of my situation, my loss, or myself. Keeping this secret is too hard and while talking about it publicly isn’t something I ever thought I’d do I think sharing my “1 in 4” story will help me feel less like I’m hiding a secret and maybe someone who is going through something similar will see this and not feel so painfully alone. 🌸🌸🌸