Entry 042

March is pregnancy after loss awareness month.

Before my first pregnancy ended, I would’ve assumed someone pregnant after loss felt happy and relieved.

Today, I know all too well what pregnancy after loss is really like.

It takes intense bravery to try again.

To open yourself up to the physical pain, the mental and emotional torture and to choose hope anyway.

To carry life in a body that couldn’t sustain it before.

To live in constant fear.

To replay everything, trying to piece together what went wrong so you can avoid it.

To count the days.

To hold your breath, waiting for the moment everything changed last time to pass without complication.

Pregnancy after loss is exhausting.

It never leaves your mind.

It’s calling your doctor before telling anyone else.

It’s reading into every single symptom or worse: the lack of symptoms.

It’s holding your breath every time you use the bathroom, praying you don’t see red.

It’s wanting to shout it from the rooftops—

and not wanting to tell a soul.

To be happy and so afraid at the same time.

Nothing about pregnancy after loss is easy.

You’re growing a new life

while mourning another.

For every second you carry this baby,

you’re holding your breath

and hoping for a better outcome.

Meanwhile, people who don’t know better

think you’re healed because you’re pregnant. 

Emily Lindquist