Miscarriage Has Left Me Jaded About Pregnancy

by Hadleigh Tweedall
Originally Published: 
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A friend of mine just announced her pregnancy. It’s her first baby. She’s pretty early on, but she couldn’t keep it a secret any longer. She was bursting at the seams to share her exciting news. I watched her entire face light up as she shared how she found out, her symptoms of morning sickness, all of her weird cravings, and her first ultrasound experience.

For the first time in a long time, it didn’t make me sad about my pregnancy losses. I didn’t run home and cry and think about the fact that I should still be pregnant too. It made me sad because I realized in that moment that I will never be as excited as her about another pregnancy ever again.

I would give anything to get my pregnancy innocence back.

My pregnancy with my living son was a breeze. It was our first pregnancy, and we got pregnant our first try. I genuinely loved being pregnant. Sure, it was uncomfortable and exhausting at times, but I felt proud showing off my baby bump. I felt more womanly. I felt empowered. I wanted the whole world to know I was pregnant too. I told my friends at eight weeks. I posted baby bump pictures. I talked about it nonstop. I checked the What to Expect app multiple times a day and couldn’t wait for the week to change so the fruit comparison would update.

My biggest concern was deciding on a paint color for the nursery.

I’ll never have that again. Another loss I will have to grieve.

Now, I see people announcing their pregnancies on Facebook the second they hit their second trimester. They haven’t even had their 20-week anatomy scan yet. I see kids in “Big Brother” and “Big Sister” shirts holding ultrasound pictures, smiling ear to ear. What will they tell them if they lose the baby? I see moms dragging their children into ultrasound appointments. What if their appointment ends in devastation?

I’m jaded now. After a miscarriage at 10 weeks and a termination at 18 weeks due to a fatal prenatal diagnosis, I know now that there is no safe zone.

My therapist told me that I will always feel fear now in future pregnancies, but I will have to learn to walk alongside it if we ever decide to try again. I loved his sentiment, but it’s just not fair that it’s my reality now.

I want to burst at the seams. I want my face to light up.

I want my innocence back.

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