Last November my husband and I were so excited to find out that we were pregnant after only trying for a short while. We could hardly stand our excitement and decided to go ahead and tell our families and close friends right away.
That joy only lasted for a few days.
A few short days after seeing those two perfect pink lines and the word “PREGNANT” pop up on a digital pregnancy test, everything changed.
The night before, I started feeling kind of crampy, but just thought that maybe I was experiencing implantation cramps like so many people talk about experiencing. I was wrong. The next morning, I woke up and knew something was wrong. My gut told me that something bad was about to happen.
Less than an hour later I went to the bathroom and saw the red and knew what was happening. I never experienced something like this before, so my husband and I went to the ER. Because this was in the middle of COVID, I had to go in by myself and he had to wait in the car or go home to wait.
After running several tests and doing an ultrasound they confirmed what my heart already knew, we were no longer pregnant.
We had had what’s called a chemical pregnancy or early miscarriage.
For those of you who don’t know what chemical pregnancy is, let me pause and explain. A chemical pregnancy is where an egg gets fertilized, travels down to the uterus, and starts the implantation process. As soon as it starts to implant, the body starts releasing the pregnancy hormone hCG so you get a positive pregnancy test(s). A chemical pregnancy occurs when shortly after the implantation process starts, the pregnancy is not sustained.
After we left the hospital we just went home and cried. To be honest, after that first day I didn’t feel like I was allowed to grieve.
We had only known about the pregnancy for less than a week.
We never got to hear a heartbeat.
We never got to see a sweet squishy little image on an ultrasound.
All we had were two pink lines.
And I did not know that two pink lines were enough to grieve over. Luckily, a sweet friend who had experienced the same thing reached out and reminded me that my loss was still a loss. She reminded me that I needed to grieve and I was allowed to grieve.
I know it sounds silly that I needed permission to be sad, but I did. Once I gave myself permission to feel the sadness and the grief, I was then able to move forward.
So if you’ve experienced an early loss, I want to give you permission to be sad and to grieve your loss.
It is okay to be sad.
It is okay to be mad.
It is okay to cry.
Your loss is worth grieving.
I see you, and I sit in grief with you, and I am sending love to you. Our rainbows will come.
