I had a miscarriage.

The statistics are that 1 in 4 pregnancies will result in a miscarriage.

1 in 4.

This past July, Jordan and I found out we were expecting baby number 4 👶🏻🎉💖 we were so excited and also slightly terrified because 4 kids is, well, a lot of children 😬 but we knew it would be a lot of fun.

We had our 8 week ultrasound right before Labor Day, and we saw our tiny baby up on the screen, the flickering heart, the best feeling. A sigh of relief.

At my routine 10 week appointment, I’d asked for a second ultrasound (based on my dates which I was pretty sure on, baby had measured behind at that first ultrasound but everyone had reassured me that measurements can be off, dates can be off, and had given me a million other reasons things didn’t line up to help ease my mind, but in my heart I knew that something didn’t seem quite right).

I was sent down for that second ultrasound, and as baby appeared up on the screen I knew.

Baby looked too small for being almost 11 weeks.

I’d done this three times before. I’m obsessive about knowing what to expect when you’re expecting.

I knew.

Our sweet ultrasound tech didn’t even have to say anything. Our eyes met, and I simply said “there’s no heartbeat... is there.”

The tears rolled down my cheeks as I laid there... and she shook her head, and the tears rolled down her cheeks too.

Missed Miscarriage wasn’t something I was familiar with... I hadn’t had any symptoms of a miscarriage. No bleeding. No cramping. Nothing. If I hadn’t had that ultrasound, I’d likely still be blissfully unaware of the heartbreaking reality. 💔 I had three super easy and complication free pregnancies prior to this. No trouble getting pregnant. No spotting. No miscarriage scares. No history of loss. I had a false sense of security that miscarriage was something that wouldn’t happen to me.

Until it did. I am officially and forever part of the 1 in 4 club. A club I didn’t want to be in, and frankly wish didn’t exist.

I was surrounded with an outpouring of love and support from those closest to me over those following weeks. It was truly humbling, and I’m so thankful for the mamas who supported me in the first dark days through the tears. The confusion. The heart ache. A baby is forever imprinted on their mama’s heart and the sadness of never getting to hold or know that sweet baby will always be there.

It’s been beautiful to see God’s fingerprints throughout this experience, and I hope to share more about that when I’m ready. I know miscarriage isn’t often openly discussed - it is intensely personal, and private and... I get it. But I can totally see where it could become intensely isolating. The grief is real, no matter when the loss occurred... it’s real... and it’d be a hell of a battle to go it alone.

I believe it’s in the vulnerability, in the sharing our hearts and souls where the camaraderie, support, love and encouragement grows. I know I wouldn’t have done as well as I did if I didn’t have a tribe of mamas surrounding me, loving on me and lifting me up when I wasn’t able to do it on my own. When they shared their experiences, and told me “I felt that way too...” or “I remember that feeling” or “you might feel this, and that’s ok” it was the most validating experience of my life. There was no judgement. No shame. It was just pure love - from a mother’s heart to a mother’s heart.

And I want to be able to do the same... Because sadly, I know I won’t be the last mama to know this pain. So if you are 1 in 4, know that I am, too. 💖 and I’ll be forever in your corner.



(PS these photos were taken shortly after I found out I was pregnant and I’m so thankful to have them...they’re a beautiful reminder of the special season when baby 4 was on board and already oh so loved)

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