Today would have been my due date in my first pregnancy.
Though I only knew I was pregnant for eight days, we knew the due date was November 18, and eight days was enough time to imagine what life would be like with him or her here.
That’s why I’ve had trouble with the term “chemical pregnancy,” which is technically what I experienced – a very early miscarriage that ends before an ultrasound would have detected the fetus but that still shows up on a pregnancy test. I’ve read so many times that most/many women who experience chemical pregnancies don’t even realize they’re pregnant at all, and think they’re simply getting their period, but I can say that when you’re trying to have a baby and testing on the first possible day you can, you know. Getting a positive test and then going through what you know is a miscarriage is heartbreaking, no matter how early it is. On the other hand, the “chemical” part of it helped me wrap my head around what happened, because (without getting too political over here) it was really only chemical in nature. Our bodies are amazing – they know when something isn’t right and they deal with it. Now, at almost 24 weeks and going through everything for the first time at all of these stages, I’m counting my blessings and trying to stop and appreciate God’s timing. I can’t wait to meet this little one.
I’m so glad women are starting to share their stories of loss more and more – honestly, I’ve spoken to so many people and even reconnected with a few old friends about shared experiences, and it’s really eye-opening how many women have gone through this. My heart goes out to anyone who has experienced loss, no matter how far along you may have been, and also to anyone still trying for their baby. It is such a stressful, all-consuming feeling, and I know I will continue praying, worrying, and hoping for the best this time around until he or she gets here, and I’m sure, long after that.