We lost another baby last week.

Honestly, the swirl of emotions in my head and heart is so intense and hard to define that I don’t really know what to type, how to direct my fingers, what to say. There are too many words to write, and no words to write, at the same time. I almost didn’t write this at all.

I took a positive pregnancy test the day I left for a work trip, grinning goofy big in the bathroom. I left on a Thursday, turned down wine all weekend, and on Monday in the airport bathroom there was blood. My first BHCG levels were fine, but the next ones didn’t rise as they’re supposed to. By the next draw the levels were tanking and continued to do so all week, and an ultrasound confirmed a cruelly empty gestational sac. We scheduled a d&c, but my body was done being a host and started the process on its own today. The d&c will be tomorrow morning.

It’s been so different than that day two and a half years ago. The little Boy running around now changes things a bit. No longer do I have the ability or desire to stay in my bed all day for a week. His little face that doesn’t know devastation beyond waiting three seconds for a cracker looks up at me, waiting for hugs and kisses and playtime. And I don’t sink into the pit of depression that I fell into last time. That little Boy is healing me, making me into a Mama, joy doing it’s good work through him.

But even with him, we’re still heartbroken. And wondering if this will happen again – the pregnancy and the loss. And jealous of those with {seemingly} simple paths to children. And in physical pain. And a little hopeless. And sad about what could have been with this baby, how our lives would’ve changed in October.

We spent these two weeks as we normally do, mostly – work, going to MOPS, a birthday party, to the grocery. We made beef stew and had fires in the fireplace and it snowed a lot. My sweet little Boy carried on as he does, full of mischief and spitfire and joy. He cut two more teeth this week, bringing his total to 14. And he said ‘bird’, grew out of his shoes & 18mo sleepers, and learned how to climb up onto the couch.

We sent out a bunch of sad text messages, and a few friends called from there. I told one of them that I didn’t know how to do this publicly. Last time, though I shared in this space, it didn’t feel public. This time it kind of does. My friends reply to me was swift – “You don’t have to.” That was good to hear. Frankly, neither being public nor being quiet about this time sat well with me. Though what did I expect? There’s nothing feel-good about this – either way it’s grief and it doesn’t feel good but we do it, we process and pain comes and we grieve and it happens in public and in private.

And so I bring you into my corner. I need you to be there, friends. Because two and a half years ago, I chose to share part of our journey with you, and found a beautiful and incredible support that knocked me back in surprise. You mean there are people, REAL PEOPLE, on the interwebs?! =) As I shared my story, you shared yours, and we forged bonds and community and friendship. You grieved with me and shared my joy and fears and welcomed my mess into your life. So I come to you again, feeling very much exposed and in need of grace and love and a little sympathy as we go back to where we began.

Friends, thank you. Thank you for supporting and loving me & my family. It’s on purpose that we share this thing with you that I never wanted to say again.

We lost another baby last week.

-anna & family

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Greetings friend, welcome to the fence...

In case we haven't met, I'm Anna. I'd love to chat over a picket fence in the backyard, but this will do for now. Let's make it easy to stay connected - simply enter your email below to get the latest posts in your inbox. We'll talk real life, real faith, real motherhood, and real encouragement. Oh, and just so you know, I'll keep your email to myself.

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