It’s 1:11 am on Tuesday, December 9th 2014.
I’m sitting here with my heating pad, struggling not to cry anymore. I am actively losing my third baby to early miscarriage.
This pregnancy was not planed, the condoms my partner and I were using while we waited for our 6 month safety window to pass were apparently bad and we didn’t know.
I am I was 7 to 8 weeks pregnant.
I’ve known I was losing the baby for over 2 weeks and the doctor didn’t believe me. We haven’t talked about a name yet, its still too new. I wanted this baby so bad even with all the issues in my life. I’m a full time college student, live-in house keeper, part-time nanny, and on-call personal assistant.
In June of this year, I had a miscarriage at 13 weeks — the chromosomes showed it would have been a girl so we named her Shayla Ember. I thank the Grace of God, I was able to carry my son, alive to 36 weeks when he was born via c-section on June 19, 2012. It was the happiest day of my life, he’s now a happy, healthy (except being deaf) 2-and-a-half year old.
Before my son, in May of 2011, I had my first confirmed miscarriage also at 7 to 8 weeks along. My dream as a child was to be a stay at home mom with 6 or 8 kids running around, so losing 3 babies in 3 years is really hard for me.
Photo credit: adapted from storyvillegirl | Flickr
— Jackie
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