Just before I turned 26, I miscarried our first child. I let the darkness carry me away for many months.
My husband and I weren’t in a position to pursue pregnancy. And I felt like a failure.
Tag: Miscarriage
The Year My Husband Stole Christmas
Five years ago, there was no tree, no stockings, and no cheesy Christmas card. I remember the pictures we took that season. I forced every smile.
To be honest, our marriage had crumbled. Sure, every friend and family member who was happily anchored offered sound advice:
“Never go to bed angry.”
“Always say I love you.”
And my personal favorite, “You’ll always have each other.”
But a miscarriage ruined everything. I wanted to keep trying. My husband wanted to finish his PhD. And it seemed we were in pursuit of different children.
The Sweet Enemy
I am a mother. I have two young children. And every birthday party I attend feels like one giant lie.
To be honest, I am one who has always prided herself on control.
I maintained two very healthy pregnancies.
I lost the baby weight.
I prioritize exercise.
But, deep within, there is a secret: I have a toxic relationship with sugar. And – when no one is watching – I binge.
The Wait of 30
“If you want to have children, you should have them by 30.”
When you are 26-years-old and enthralled in exciting research as a graduate student, one of the last things you want to hear is that your biological clock is not only ticking, it’s pounding.
I think every woman who desires to have children dreams about the magic of their first pregnancy – what those first kicks will be like and how the warmth of their baby bump will fill their heart with indescribable joy. I am willing to bet that few, if any, consider the physical and emotional pain that can accompany the loss of your first child through miscarriage. I certainly didn’t.
