I Am One in Four

One of the hardest times of my life was when I experienced not only one, but TWO miscarriages within just a few months of each other. I still remember each of those days like it were yesterday. And it still makes my stomach turn. Especially since being pregnant again, right now. 

In Honor of Pregnancy & Infant Loss Awareness Month and today being October 15th, I thought it would be a time for me to share two of the hardest blog posts I’ve ever written. I saved all of my old blogs that I wrote before creating this new one, because honestly if I had deleted them, it felt like a piece of my life would be missing. And that’s something you can’t just get back. Both of these are real life stories that happened to me. June 20th, 2016 and September 1st, 2016 were the days I’ll never be able to erase from my mind. 

•• Here’s a blog post from my old blog ‘Sincerely, Tracey’ — A Missed Miscarriage”

“I knew what I was looking for; a tiny little jelly bean looking human, but instead there was nothing. Nothing but a smal, black, oval space staring back at me from the monitor. I’d never had a missed miscarriage. I had never even had a miscarriage. I didn’t even know that was a thing {a missed miscarriage}.

My baby had stopped developing at around 5-6 weeks, but I hadn’t visibly miscarried. My body had absorbed most of the pregnancy tissue but there was still some remaining and therefore my body still thought it was pregnant. My bump was still there and my boobs were still sore. My baby was now just a ‘pregnancy tissue’. Those words were scarred into my head. 

My initial thoughts? How could I still be pregnant, but there not be a baby? How did I have a small bump, but there was no baby? What a stupid body I had to think there was a baby, when there was no baby or wasn’t ever a baby. How on Earth do I explain that to the few people who knew I was pregnant. My words seemed to fail me.

It’s a hard time. A hard time for you and a hard time for the people around you. I never realized what an outward impact something like this has on your family as a whole. I deal with things quite internally. I don’t often share my worries or I certainly don’t share them easily, if I do. I went through all the logical steps in my brain — there must have been something wrong with the baby for it to stop growing etc. I couldn’t even process it. I think it was more shock really. I didn’t cry for quiet some time. 

I told the few people who knew about my pregnancy. People are lovely and they want to reassure you and they want to support you, try to make you feel better. So they mainly tell you that ‘it’s ok because you’ve got Jordan and you know you can carry a baby because you have two of them' or ‘It’s ok because you’re young and there’s loads of time for you to try again for another one’. 

And yes, while those things are true and I sincerely appreciated the support, in that moment those things don’t actually matter. The miscarriage wasn’t about what I already had or what I might have again in the future, it was about the baby I’d just lost. The baby I loved from the second I knew it was in my tummy. The baby that I’d pondered about for nearly 6 weeks. And how I was so excited to see it for the first time, thinking about the times we’d share together, about how he or she would fit into our family, the baby that had left my heart broken in a thousand pieces. 

I had to wait two weeks to see if my body would miscarry the remaining pregnancy tissue. TWO WHOLE WEEKS. 

It did. This was a really low time for me. 

After the two weeks had passed and I went for an ultrasound. The remaining tissue had disappeared and my HCG level were at zero. I hoped a million times that they were wrong and that suddenly it would appear on the screen. It wasn’t that I wasn’t feeling upset, distraught, completely numb, but I sort of felt a bit in limbo. It was almost like until I got that negative pregnancy test I was still holding onto something and then the moment I saw that test was negative, I let go. And I cried. A lot. I finally let myself grieve for what I’d lost, for all the hope I’d had, for all the beautiful moments that were to come but I knew now I’d never see. 

When these things are sent to test us, it is very easy to internalize everything (something I’m guilty of), very easy to feel sorry for ourselves, but we must make sure we don’t lose sight of those around us as well. In these situations, there is mainly another half to the story. A husband, a partner… Someone. Someone else who has also lost a baby. Someone who is walking on eggshells around you because they are petrified of making you cry, someone who knows that they can’t possibly imagine what you are going through. If you are one of those people I feel for you. It’s an impossible time for you too. But let me tell you this. Don’t be afraid to ask if she is ok. Don’t be afraid that by asking how she’s feeling you will remind her of what’s happened and cause her pain. I can guarantee that she thinks about her baby at least every minute of the day and so your questioning won’t be a reminder of what’s happened, but a reminder that you care. It will be a reminder that you’re concerned for her. That you feel pain too. She doesn’t want to deal with this alone. She wants you to be there and she needs to know you care. Her heart is breaking for you too, even if she forgets to tell you.”

— “ONE MONTH LATER: Being completely honest, I miss my baby with everything I have. I love it as much now as I did on the day I found out I was pregnant. It is still always on my mind. I know it will take a minute for my body to feel ‘normal’ again and it’s only this month that things seem back on track. I’m positive about the future and I hope one day we are lucky enough to have another baby. But since having a miscarriage, I have learned to hold my babies at home tighter and to never forget this little one. It will forever hold a place in my heart and I will love it for all of my life just as I do Addie and Carson. 

One thing I have taken from the whole experience is that I need to open up more. I need to talk more, I need to share more, I need to love more. We all do. It can be hard, and hard to find a place to talk about this sort of thing. It’s hard for friends to understand and it can be a lonely time, but your friend hasn’t asked how you are for a couple of days because she’s scared of hurting you, it’s not because she doesn’t care. 

The only way we can make sure that we aren’t alone is by sharing. It’s by talking to our loved ones or medical professionals and trying to make them understand how you feel. It’s up to us to be open and honest and to help each other. I couldn’t believe once I started sharing how many other women had experienced a miscarriage in one form or another and that’s women I knew but I’d seemed to miss this part of their lives. Miscarriage is often very overlooked because outwardly, there are no signs and very few people probably know about the pregnancy to start with. We must start opening up and making it something that is ok to talk about. 

If you want to share your story, maybe you never have before, please do so in the comments box below. And thank you for reading mine. It has been truly heart wrenching writing it down like this.”

That was so hard for me to re-read. It brings back so many memories and yeah.. I can’t even begin to explain how it makes me feel. So many emotions that I honestly had put so far behind me have came back. I think of them so much, yet, reading these words I wrote two years ago just re-breaks my heart all over again. 

Okay, so onto the other blog post that took place exactly two and a half months later from the post above. 

•• Here’s the second blog post from my old blog ‘Sincerely, Tracey’ about my other miscarriage  — 
“The Blog Post I Never Wanted to Write”

“This is not the post I was expecting to be writing today (I would have been 7 weeks today and soon to be announcing). As many of you know, after two healthy pregnancies, I miscarried for the first time in June. I was around 5/6 weeks along, due in February, and although it was difficult, and many tears were shed on account of our little baby, it was nothing like the miscarriage I am experiencing. 

After my first miscarriage, I was pregnant again quickly, with a mid-late April due date. It was one of those "I just know I'm pregnant" feelings, and I cried happy tears when I took the pregnancy test. God had blessed again so soon, and I loved the idea of having a baby in April (possibly around my birthday). Carson (our youngest)'s 3rd birthday is in March, mine is in May and Addie's is in June, I thought it would be so cool to have 4 birthdays back to back in four months. 

I was almost 7 weeks along, I surpassed my last miscarriage timeline. Well, I was redecorating that day and I needed to use the bathroom. As soon as I did so, I saw brown blood/spotting. It totally caught me off guard. It was the one thing I wasn't expecting, not now, not after I'd already had a miscarriage. Please, Lord don't let me lose another baby. 

I started crying, and these were not tears like my last miscarriage. It was a raw emotion that I haven't felt for years (since the loss of my grandpa). It was fear and despair and so much grief at the unknown. Why again? Why wait until now? 

As I mentioned my story on IG, the stories started pouring in. Stories of bleeding during pregnancy, and the babies being fine! Miracle babies- when the moms were sure this baby had died, the doctor continued to hear a heartbeat. 

For the next few days, I continued to bleed, but as worrying as it was, I continued to hope that my story would be added to these hosts of others. That the bleeding would stop, and we'd be hearing a heartbeat before we knew it. I'd been on partial bed rest, trying to sit and rest as much as possible, and I was really feeling pretty well. 

That Tuesday morning, I stayed home from taking Addie to school. The bleeding was stopping so I instantly felt a sigh of relief. The next day was my first appointment with my midwife, so I was pretty relaxed (or trying to be). I was still saying to Jordan, "I think our baby's going to be ok." 

Well, it was appointment day and I was a nervous wreck. I've never prayed so hard in my entire life as I did all the night before and the morning of. I went in and told her about everything, she checked my cervix and said it was still closed (good sign) and she was going to do blood work. My progesterone came back low, so she put me on some supplements. My HCG was within the normal range, so I stopped worrying and tried to enjoy it. My follow up appointment was the following Monday, so I had high hopes. 

The weekend was decent, I took it easy and didn't really do anything to make the bleeding start up again. The progesterone supplements were slowly making me feel insane and my mood swings were crazy. I was having hot flashes to the fullest, almost passing out and just not feeling myself. It was stressful, but I knew I'd do anything to help the little baby I was growing inside of me. 

I woke up on Monday, took Addie to school and we headed straight to the midwives office. It was just lab work, so no major appointment. I was in and out and my results would be in later. 

My faith in this baby was rapidly growing, but I had no idea the news I was about to hear. 

About 2pm, the doctor called me. I was in the middle of Arby’s as I quickly answered the phone to hear her tell me that the supplements worked and my progesterone skyrocketed! And just as I was about to breathe my sigh of relief, she said but your HCG has dropped and was at 25, so you are indeed miscarrying again. I was instantly heartbroken. I started bawling right there in that Arby’s. I was distraught. I couldn’t eat. She had mentioned that my body was being fooled by the progesterone and it would take my body longer to miscarry. So therefore I would just have to sit and wait. If I didn't start bleeding within a week, I would have to have a D&C. I was scared, I was nervous and I felt like I had totally failed that baby. 

I'm certain it will take a while for my body and heart to heal this time around. The process has only just begun. And that makes me realize how shitty my body really is. That it couldn't even recognize that my baby was not going to be okay. It has made this process 10000x harder. It was harder anyways since this being the second time in almost three months, but it was just hard realizing that I'll never actually know these two little people I’m saying (and have already said) goodbye to. I’ll never see their face, never feel them growing inside me. I’m now grieving for the weight of the children I will never feel in my arms, for the brothers or sisters that Carson and Addison will never play with, for all the inconsequential yet priceless moments that the universe will never unravel. 

I will never know them and have never met them, but I loved so intensely; and there is something very confusing about that. The pain of only being able to carry your child for a short amount of time is such an overwhelmingly, yet strong one, and my heart aches horribly. Losing my babies has truly knocked the wind out of me and I am still in disbelief. 

I’m trying to focus one day at a time, on the future. At the moment, that is hard, as it’s all still so raw; I wake up in the morning and there are a blissful few seconds where I feel normal, then I’ll remember, and the ache in my heart returns and I’ll sit quietly next to the loss. 

But for now, I wanted to offer some words of advice on how to respond when someone you know miscarries. Before I miscarried, I had no idea how to respond. I didn't know what miscarriage was like, and I wasn't sure what to say. But now that I've gone through it, and heard a variety of responses to my miscarriages, I know that there is really only one appropriate response. 

And that is.. “I'm sorry. I can't imagine how hard this must be for you. I'm praying for you. Is there any way we can help?”

That is all. It's not the time to suggest to the grieving mom that she could've prevented this miscarriage if she wouldn't have had her pregnancies so close together. In fact, any "this is possibly your fault" comments shouldn't even enter the conversation. The momma (this momma) is already going to be dealing with many of those doubts and fears without anyone critically voicing them.  

No matter how many children a mother has already, she was counting on THIS baby. This next little sibling. Perhaps she was already rolling around baby names in her mind. So yes, of course she values the children she already has, but that doesn't de-value the baby she lost in any way. And losing a baby isn't a sign that she shouldn't have more children. I remember hearing people say this about another mother with multiple children, and it was incredibly insensitive.  

Miscarriage is very painful. Both physically and emotionally. A mother finds herself in a place she's never been before, vulnerable and weak and full of emotions she's never before faced. This is the time for people to show compassion, love, kindness and to be there to grieve with her for the baby she wanted so much to meet.”

And now as I sat here to add these in this post, reading them, is so much for me still. It truly never gets easier. And I think the hardest part is now I am currently pregnant and expecting a baby in March. Right in the middle of the due dates that I would’ve had with these two precious babies. I will never not believe that God does have a plan for us all. That he knew I needed these children. Even if it meant for me to learn how to handle a loss in the process. Which I would never ever wish this on my worst enemy, it has made me the mother that I am to this very day. It makes me value my children and realize that “what if” they weren’t here. I believe that Norah and this baby of ours is a sign that God truly does answer us and gives us exactly what He thinks we need. And as I said above, He knew I needed children. I was meant to be a mom, an Angel momma and an Earth momma. And for that, I am special. I know that I will one day get to see their cute little faces and hug them tighter than I have ever hugged anyone. I just want to kiss their little smooshy faces and tell them that I am their momma. I know they know, but it’s just really hard for me to know that. As I am writing this I have uncontrollable tears streaming down my face and that right there lets me know that time definitely does not heal all wounds. It just makes them easier to process. 

I think this is all I am going to write for tonight, as I am an emotional wreck. I just really wanted to put this out there and let people know that I am THE 1 in 4. I am a statistic. My babies were a blessing and while they might have been too special for Earth — they will never cry, they will never experience pain, get their heart broken or live in this crazy world we live in today. And I am partially thankful for that in a sense, but I would still give anything to just hold them at least once. But for now, I will live this beautiful life God has given me with my Earthling children and remember them as much as I can. I love all six of my children. More than life itself. Because God made me a Momma. And tonight I will light my candle in remembrance of each of you sweet angel babies and all of the other sweet littles gone way too soon. 


  1. I have never had a miscarriage. I am so grateful that my son came through perfectly the entire 9 months. It must be really hard to lose a baby. We are planning to have another child. I am just hoping and praying that everything goes well. You are a strong woman. Thanks for sharing :)

    1. Hi! Thanks for commenting :)

      You know, some women don’t ever experience a miscarriage, which is amazing. After having my miscarriages, I learned that nearly every woman has a miscarriage at least once in her reproductive years. I had never even heard of that, until my OB’s brought it to my attention. He said a lot of them go unnoticed as period starts and they never question it. So crazy to me. Congrats on trying for new baby! I will definitely keep you in prayers for a happy + healthy pregnancy. Thank you again so much. ♥️

  2. This year I have had my sister (who it took 3 years to finally get pregnant) miscarry and my close friend, teesha, miscarry within 2 weeks of one another. she did a guest post on my blog yesterday for Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Month. The hardest part as a bystander is wishing you could take away the pain and not being able to say anything that makes it better. like you mentioned, all we can say is im so sorry, Im praying for you, and here if you need me. It is so painful to watch someone you love live in complete brokenness. The anger, the sadness, the blame they feel, the fear of forgetting or it happening again, its all so overwhelming. Thank you for sharing your story. So sorry for your loss and pain!

    1. Oh man, I am so so sorry for your sister and friend. That is rough. Especially trying for so long and then finally think you are getting a break by getting pregnant and then suddenly miscarry. Life is so unfair sometimes. I will keep them both in my prayers. And yes, the fear of it reoccurring is definitely one of the main things that terrified me with my last pregnancy (we finally had our rainbow baby last September) and even this pregnancy (currently 19 weeks), the fear still lingers. I didn’t announce with my rainbow until we found out the gender (20 weeks) and we decided to announce with this one a little earlier.. I feel safest when I reach the 24 week mark. I don’t buy a single thing or anything until after that point. It would just be too hard if something were to go wrong. Being pregnant alone is so overwhelming, but especially after a loss. Thank you so much! Again, my heart goes out to your sister + bestie. xo