Daniel and I are so happy to announce that we are expecting another baby in September! We’ve had a few doctor’s appointments so far, even an ultrasound, and everything looks good and healthy. The baby’s due date is very close to James’s, so it looks like I will have a similar pregnancy timeline (can’t wait to get my huge pregnant body into that kiddie pool in the hot summer months!)
The months following my miscarriage were filled with grief and turbulence. The loss, physical ordeal, and hormones made me feel anxiety on a level I hadn’t before. I was so thankful to have James to take care of day to day because it kept me focused on the present. Throughout all the struggle, I just knew in my heart I wanted to be pregnant again. So we started trying immediately after getting the OK from my doctor.
My period has never been regular and my hormones were still making me feel a little out of sorts so I really wasn’t sure if I was pregnant. We took the early pregnancy tests and the first one seemed to be negative. I took another one without Daniel there two days later and it seemed like there might be a very faint line to indicate a positive. When Daniel got home and I excitedly showed him, he said he didn’t think it was positive. So then we spent the next few minutes like the conception Hardy Boys, staring at the test under a light trying to discern if that was indeed a line or a shadow or nothing. Honestly, I think Daniel thought I was just going crazy and trying to humor me. Eventually, Daniel decided to run to the 24-hour CVS to get the tests that just digitally say “pregnant” or “not pregnant.”
He got home and started carefully reading the instructions as I tore into the box and headed to the bathroom. We did both tests and both ended up saying “pregnant.” We were so happy. Relieved and excited and also nervous. And that’s just another sad aspect of miscarriage that you don’t really think about until you have one—that you probably won’t ever feel pure joy at the prospect of pregnancy again. I think it’s natural to worry about what could go wrong. I never thought I’d be celebrating rushing to the bathroom to vomit, but the morning sickness was the first clear sign that things were going to be OK.