Search

Time to talk about something hard.


I’ve debated for months if I was going to write about this. It’s something hubby and I have kept close to our hearts and only discussed with each other. Writing about it makes it seem so.... I don’t even know the right word.


But it’s time so here it goes.

When I was hospitalized in October, my psychiatrist took me into a meeting room and told me he had some news for me. Longest few seconds of my life as I thought something had happened to my husband or one of my children. It turns out that I was pregnant.... not very far along but enough that it came up on a blood test. They asked if they could test again because some medication isn’t safe to take during pregnancy. I of course agreed and the next day it was confirmed. Not only was this shocking as I had just turned 47, but also because I had my tubes tied after our last. Becoming pregnant wasn’t even on my radar. Hubby and I were a mixture of freaked out and excited.

Soon everyone in my inpatient unit had found out. Word travels fast with 15 people including staff in a hospital unit lol. While I was napping, everyone had put together a baby shower for me, including staff getting a cake from the cafeteria by telling them it was my birthday lol ! They had printed pictures and found ways to decorate and gave me the most beautiful card. Though everything that follows this was the most beautiful gift anyone could have given me. You see, I’ve always carried a little sadness for the fact that I’d never had a baby shower. My mom wouldn’t let me with my first saying “ teen moms don’t have baby showers “ then with the following 5 I guess no one thinks that any baby but the first needs a shower ? I don’t know, but no one ever threw me one. So this baby shower was perfect. People I’d quickly grown to love celebrating my baby and cake. Eventually I went home and hubby and I started a slew of appointments with a obstetrician that sees old lady’s lol. He assured me I was far from his oldest patient by the way which still blows my mind. Ultrasound looks good, numbers are getting higher, everything checks out. Then it doesn’t...


After time my numbers start dropping and eventually I miscarry at 15 weeks. My husband and I lost our first baby at 15 weeks , so this is a..... odd? Horrible?  coincidence. We were planning on announcing it on Thanksgiving, so I’m thankful it happened before so we didn’t have to tell everyone about the loss and I could just mourn with hubby.

It’s been months and we’ve just passed the due date. We’re doing okay. Definitely some grieving going on, and those weird moments where you try to convince yourself it’s for the best. But I am grateful for the few months I got with her, and I know although I didn’t meet her earthside , I will meet her one day .


Much Love,

Kelly