What it’s like to be Pregnant after having a Miscarriage

Pregnancy comes with so many emotions. 

Joy, that you’re bringing a new little love into the world. 

Excitement that your family is growing. 

Exhaustion from getting everything ready to welcome a baby to your home. 

But fear isn’t an emotion that gets acknowledged or discussed as much as the “good things” about pregnancy. Every woman deals with the fear that something may go wrong, whether they’ve experienced a miscarriage or not. 

It’s natural to fear the worst. Last year I had to deal with the worst twice, once in January and again over the course of 7 hellish weeks in Spring. 

So when I discovered I was pregnant in early October, I am sad to admit that instead of firstly feeling joy when I saw that little positive sign, I felt that fear. 

It was so different from the day I found out I was pregnant with Arielle. While I did eventually feel that fear that something would go wrong, mostly because of how sick I was during almost my entire pregnancy, the thought didn’t cross my mind for months. After all, how could life be cruel enough to rip that happiness from me? 

Almost three years later I found out that it’s not only possible, it happens more often than we know. Experts argue exactly how often. After my January 2022 miscarriage I did some research and I found conflicting numbers – some say 1 in 4 pregnancies end in miscarriage, some say it’s as often as 1 in 2 pregnancies. That is a huge discrepancy and isn’t exactly comforting when you are trying to grow your family. 

As I stood there with that positive pregnancy test, with now two miscarriages on my record, all I could think was, “Is this going to be miscarriage 3?” 

Fast forward a week or so and I landed myself in the hospital. I had caught a bad cold and coupled with the hyperemesis gravidarum (a fancy word for extreme morning sickness) that I had recently developed, I had become severely dehydrated. 

When the ER team found out I was about 6 ½ weeks pregnant, they insisted on an internal ultrasound before they would treat me for anything (don’t get me started on my experience at our local hospital. There is a reason why I go to Boston for my prenatal care). I lay on that table feeling so exhausted that I could barely move. An hour later the doctor came out to the waiting room to tell me that “everything was looking good and while they didn’t see a fetal pole yet, the sac was measuring about 5 weeks along.”

I panicked. This is what happened last spring. I found out I was pregnant and then the gestational sac wasn’t measuring what it should be for how far along I was. Then the fetal pole never showed up. Finally, at 10 weeks, my OBGYN called it – even after going through several weeks of morning sickness and other symptoms I had what he called an unviable pregnancy and had to wait for it to miscarry. When at 12 weeks I was still “pregnant,” he finally gave me something to flush it out. Needless to say, this experience was even more traumatic than the first miscarriage. 

But back to October 2022 in the ER – 

Now not only was I nervous about my own health, I was nervous that I was dealing with yet another unviable pregnancy. I lived in this hell for a week but finally got some good news at my OBGYN’s ultrasound department. The gestational sac was measuring right on track and there was a tiny fetal pole. Alex and I both cried when the ultrasound tech told us what she saw. 

There was a baby.

Our baby.

While I had told my mom right away (after all, she sees me every day and I can’t hide anything from her), we agreed that we would wait to tell anyone else. I didn’t think I could handle sharing our joy, just to have it ripped out from under us again. 

The next time I saw my doctor was at my 10-week appointment I asked him, “when would it be ‘safe’ to assume that this pregnancy is going well and we can tell our families?”

I love my OBGYN. He knows just how to deal with my anxiety. 

“I would wait until we get the results of the panorama tests (a panel done on pregnant women over 35), and then see how the 12-week ultrasound goes.” 

Two more weeks of waiting to know whether or not things were going well. 

I got a call the day before Thanksgiving from my doctor and truthfully, hearing his voice made me nervous. But he said the test results all came back with good news so as long as the ultrasound went well, we should be on our way to having a baby. 

He asked me, “Do you want me to resubmit the test so you can find out if you’re having a boy or a girl?”

“No,” I said immediately, not even letting him finish his sentence. 

For anyone who knows me, this might seem out of character. I wanted to know as soon as possible with Arielle. But I didn’t want to know at this point of this pregnancy because I felt like if I knew one more thing about this baby that I would get too attached and if something happened, it would be that much more upsetting. 

Looking back, I know it wouldn’t have mattered. I was already attached. But it was my own way of trying to protect my heart. 

All during this time, including Thanksgiving day, I was dealing with morning sickness and each time I found myself sick all I could think of was, “Is this going to actually count for anything?” 

I probably should have gone back to therapy. But have you tried finding a new therapist post-Covid? It is impossible to get an appointment with someone who specializes in pre and postnatal trauma. 

A week later at the 12-week ultrasound, I was holding Alex’s hand so tightly that my knuckles were white. But as soon as the tech put the wand to my stomach, she smiled. Baby was still there, and now baby was bigger – measuring right on track. And their heart was beating so quickly – it was music to my ears!

Later that day I got another call from my OB team – if we wanted to tell our families, things were looking good for this pregnancy. 

We planned our reveals carefully and in the end, we let Arielle tell everyone the good news with her “promoted to big sister” tee. As we made our holiday visits throughout December, we let those closest to us in on our secret and everyone was very happy for us, but respectful that we were still feeling very uncertain of what the future would bring. 

With each passing week, I would pat myself on the back. I was still pregnant. Still having morning sickness. 

When I felt the first flutters at almost 15 weeks, sitting on my couch after half-eating a bowl of homemade lasagna, I cried. I had seen the baby moving in the 12-week scan, but these first kicks gave me a new sense of hope. 

Then at 16 weeks, right before the new year, my doctor was oohing and ahhing (almost literally) over how well-developed our little one was already. We saw the spinal column, the little hands and feet, and even the heart beating away. Our baby was doing so well!

But even with these miraculous developments and the fact that our secret was now out to family and friends, I still was nervous. Nevertheless, I felt it was time to share it with you all and that’s why on January 2 I finally let you in on what had been going on in my life. 

With each passing week, I feel a little more confident that this pregnancy is going to last. With each kick, I get to know this little person more intimately.

At 20 Weeks we got another good look at our little one and everything is going well. I started planning a gender reveal (come back Wednesday for the big news!). We set up Arielle’s big girl bed in anticipation of a new baby moving into the nursery, and I even started making up a list of the things we would need to do and get ready for bébé deux (what I had started calling them). 

At 24 Weeks I passed my blood sugar test – no gestational diabetes for me! And really started to focus on prep work, especially since I had popped and was starting to feel tired again. 

Then at 24 weeks, 4 days we found out what we are having. I finally felt ready to learn something else about this little person inside of me and I can’t wait to share it with you all!

Today, I am 25 weeks and 5 days pregnant. Even at this point, feeling kicks almost constantly (and even seeing them sometimes – this is a very active little one) I still feel nervous. I have dreams that I lose the baby. 

But as I get ready to leave behind my second trimester, I am realizing that I cannot let this fear steal any more joy from me. 

While I know I won’t feel at ease until I hold this baby safely in my arms, I want to try and savor these last several weeks not just with Arielle as an “only child,” but with feeling the little flutters in my body. I will probably never feel this again. If only I could bottle this sensation! 

I want to remember the fun times we’ve been having preparing for the baby’s arrival. Arielle has been so much help – it makes my heart swell when she talks about all of the things she wants to teach the baby. 

Part of me is already regretting how much I let my fear control my emotions. But I need to let it all go. 

Let go of the fear. Let go of the regret. And just revel in it all. 

Revel in the love, the joy, and the fact that our lives are about to get even more exciting!