I wasn’t sure how it would feel to be pregnant again. I imagined it would be scary and strange, but I also felt like I would have some motherly instinct that would just reassure me that everything was ok. I figured I had that bad feeling my entire pregnancy with Ava, so surely if things were going well in a future pregnancy I could expect to just know it was all ok. It didn’t exactly happen that way.

After my early miscarriage in July, I was feeling pretty defeated. In fact, I think I told Travis something along the lines of, “I’m done.” The weight of another failure was heavy on my heart and I wasn’t sure it was worth trying again. I felt so foolish for believing I could actually carry another healthy pregnancy and I was getting pretty tired of the disappointment. But I tried to look on the bright side. I had gotten pregnant, which is a major hurdle for many people, and it had happened pretty quickly. That was something worth celebrating. So I re-framed my thinking and we decided not to give up. But not before I set a deadline in my head, if I wasn’t pregnant by December I would reevaluate whether or not this was still a good idea.

A little more than two months later, during the first few days of October, which is Miscarriage and Infant Loss Awareness Month, Travis and I were treated to more than one rainbow appearing behind out house. One in particular appeared to be originating directly from Ava’s grave site at the cemetery and the entire arch of a full rainbow stretched over our backyard. Our son declared the rainbows to be from his sister, and Travis and I teased that it was a sign from Ava that our rainbow baby was on the way.

 

Later that month we were getting ready to go on a camping trip. I was feeling strange and a lot like I had felt when I had been pregnant in July. I took a test and….nothing. It was negative. Is there such a thing as more negative than negative? Cause that’s what it was. Where the pink line should have appeared it was a stark white, blank space. I tried to remind myself that it was still early to be testing but I felt the weight of my disappointment dragging me down. I put on a happy face and enjoyed spending the next few days in Utah hiking and rappelling through canyons with Logan on my back and I felt like a superhero after carrying Logan down his biggest rappel ever. I felt strong and confident, and ready to keep trying for our baby.

The day we returned home I noticed the pregnancy test still sitting on the counter from before we left but it seemed to have developed the most faint pink line I have ever seen. I squinted at it. I turned it left and right. I shined a light on it and tried to observe it from all angles where I might see a pink line. And I knew it was stupid, because pregnancy tests don’t become positive with more time. The test was negative and anything I was seeing now was either an evaporation line or wishful thinking. I scolded myself for being so foolish. But still my period never came. As the days went on I started feeling even more pregnancy symptoms. I took another test….nothing. I kept telling myself that it was all in my head, that I wanted it so badly I was just making it all up, but I couldn’t shake this feeling that the tests were wrong. I was starting to feel a little insane. Finally, one morning I saw the most faint pink line you could imagine, so faint in fact, I think I may have actually imagined it. That day I had my blood drawn and the lab finally confirmed it….I was pregnant! I don’t know if I was more excited about the actual pregnancy or the fact that I wasn’t going completely crazy and imagining a pregnancy. The lab test was positive but the pregnancy hormone levels were so low that I tried not to get too excited. On the way home from work that night I grabbed an anniversary card for Travis and put the printed lab results inside, my version of a “homemade” anniversary present. He was happy to see the news, but neither of us got too excited, it was still too early to feel anything other than, here we go again…..

48 hours later I sat anxiously as my blood was drawn again and hoped that it would show the hormone levels had doubled which would offer a glimmer of hope that things were going well. As soon as I left the lab and got into my car the radio started playing the song I had listened to during my entire pregnancy with Logan. Tears welled in my eyes and it felt like a sign that everything would be ok, my hormone levels would double, they just had to. It was the universe giving me a sign, its all gonna be ok, mama. I couldn’t keep the smile from my face, there was that feeling I had hoped for, the feeling that everything was going to be just fine. Less than an hour later I got a phone call, the hormone level hadn’t just doubled, it had quadrupled! I couldn’t believe it, this was actually happening! And that’s when things started to get even harder.

As most people do, we decided to keep news of our pregnancy between us, though I think our motives were a little different. I didn’t want to disappoint anyone if the news turned sour, and Travis just didn’t want to talk to anyone about it. He didn’t want the questions and discussions that would certainly come with sharing the news of our pregnancy. We never set a timeline, but agreed to keep it quiet until we were ready. By my first ultrasound there were only 3 people outside of my care team who knew about the pregnancy. After work, on my son’s 4th birthday, I snuck my husband and my parents into my office for my first ultrasound appointment. I had pictured this day ever since we decided to try again. I pictured floods of emotion, and tears, and most of all, relief. I took a deep breath in, then suddenly, there on the screen, was our little bean, and the fluttering motion of a heartbeat. I waited for the emotion, the sigh of relief, the calming in the internal waters of anxiety, but nothing happened. The ultrasonagrapher, the same one who took care of Ava, did some measurements and declared my due date. It was already measuring a week smaller than it should have been based on my period. I offered myself reassurance, we change due dates all the time in the first trimester and those pregnancies result in healthy, happy babies. But this wasn’t any other pregnancy, this was my pregnancy and I didn’t want anything to be different. I was hoping this first appointment would be when I would let out my giant sigh of relief but as we left the office to go get dinner I was still holding my breath.

The next few weeks went smoothly. I was getting more nauseated and exhausted by the minute and I’d never been so happy to feel so horrible. I would randomly sneak peaks with the ultrasound and make sure there was still a heartbeat. I couldn’t let go of this fear that it was all going to go to shit at any second. As we got further along we started to share our secret with a few more people and every time we told someone I was filled with joy and excitement but I didn’t feel much joy outside of those moments. Keeping our news a secret was much more difficult than I expected it to be. After being so candid about all the intimate details of our journey with Ava and our road to recovery, it was hard to suddenly stop sharing with people. I wanted to be open and honest about our experience, but we just weren’t ready to talk about it. It was hard to have genuine interactions and relationships with people while keeping such a huge part of our lives a secret. I started to feel like a liar and started to withdraw from social situations. I wanted to feel excited about this baby but I was too terrified, and Travis was so guarded that it felt like he didn’t want to talk about it at all, so I remained silent. And without even meaning to, I turned my pregnancy into this elephant in the room that neither one of us wanted to acknowledge or discuss. I was sad. I felt isolated, and scared, and alone. I so desperately wanted to feel the joy and excitement of pregnancy but it was just too soon to celebrate. I was worried all the time. I was scared to exercise. I was scared about my nausea, and even more scared on the days I felt good. I was worried about being bad mother to my one living child, I was worried about being a bad wife, and I was worried about being a burden on my husband. I worried almost constantly and I should have been talking to my support system about it, but instead I mostly stayed silent.

And so it went, for the first 5 months of pregnancy. There were brief moments of joy and excitement, but for the most part I waited for the days to pass, the milestones to be met, and for the movement in my belly that I was certain would offer some sort of reassurance and relief. I just had to be patient and so I continued to silently hold my breath until that reassurance arrived.