For every mother who has loved and lost…
I was elated when I found out I was pregnant.
After three years of fertility treatments, it finally felt like we had the right recipe for success.
I was sick as a dog with morning sickness, but I didn’t care. I was finally going to become a mother.
To celebrate, I took my mother and my best friend to Santa Fe, New Mexico. It’s always been a spiritual place for me—a place where I had spent many days wishing for motherhood. Now it felt like a full-circle moment.
But on the second night of our trip, it all came crashing down.
At 2 a.m., I woke to a stickiness between my legs. As I rushed to the bathroom, I realized my hand was full of blood. I was bleeding profusely.
What did this mean—just four weeks into my pregnancy?
The doctor said I might expect some spotting, but this felt ominous.
I couldn’t escape the thought: 𝘈𝘮 𝘐 𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘺 𝘣𝘢𝘣𝘺?
The next 18 hours were pure torture. My friend drove straight through the 12-hour trip back to Austin. My mother tried to comfort me while I lay motionless in the backseat, terrified to move a muscle.
Monday morning couldn’t come soon enough.
I held my breath as I lay on the examination table, and the doctor inserted the probe to search for my baby.
Through the nondescript ocean waves of the sonogram, I heard a faint, distant sound—the pulsing of a drum muffled underwater. Fragile, but distinct and steady.
𝗜𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝘀 𝗺𝘆 𝗱𝗮𝘂𝗴𝗵𝘁𝗲𝗿’𝘀 𝗵𝗲𝗮𝗿𝘁𝗯𝗲𝗮𝘁.
A rush of relief came over me. She was still with me. My baby was alive.
Sadly, five months later, I learned she had a condition incompatible with life. I would say goodbye before I even had the chance to say hello.
When she was gone, there was nothing for me to hold onto. Nothing of her to bury. It was as if she never existed.
But while the world never got to meet her, Rachel will always be a part of me.
I’ve gone on to have two wonderful children, a daughter and a son, but I will always grieve the loss of my first child.
Thirteen years later, I often visit her memorial stone nestled in a butterfly garden not far from my home.
𝗜 𝘀𝗵𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝗥𝗮𝗰𝗵𝗲𝗹’𝘀 𝘀𝘁𝗼𝗿𝘆 𝗯𝗲𝗰𝗮𝘂𝘀𝗲 𝗺𝗶𝘀𝗰𝗮𝗿𝗿𝗶𝗮𝗴𝗲 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗰𝗵𝗶𝗹𝗱 𝗹𝗼𝘀𝘀 𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝗺𝗼𝗿𝗲 𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗺𝗼𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝗻 𝘄𝗲 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗹𝗶𝘇𝗲.
💔 An estimated 10–20% of known pregnancies end in miscarriage. Some estimates reach as high as 25%, because many people miscarry before they even realize they’re pregnant.
𝗢𝗰𝘁𝗼𝗯𝗲𝗿 𝗶𝘀 𝗣𝗿𝗲𝗴𝗻𝗮𝗻𝗰𝘆 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗜𝗻𝗳𝗮𝗻𝘁 𝗟𝗼𝘀𝘀 𝗔𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗲𝗻𝗲𝘀𝘀 𝗠𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗵.
I especially admire the work that people like Kiley Hanish and RTZ Hope are doing to provide support for those who have experienced such a devastating loss. I’ve included additional resources in the comments.👇
Today, I ask you to take a moment to send up a prayer for Rachel and for all the beloved children whose stories ended before they began.
These babies will forever be in our hearts. 🦋
#miscarriage
#pregnancyloss
#pregnancyandinfantlossawarenessmonth
