The I Word

This might end up as the most raw post I’ve ever written. There won’t be any pretty graphics or editing. I’m actually writing this on my phone. I’m about to really bare myself, my marriage, and my issues to y’all but it’s time.

Back in 2014, my husband and I moved to GA. We got married in December that year and he was working a lot. We were newlyweds trying to settle into a new apartment in a new state and just keeping our heads above water. One day in January, I went to the bathroom and was bleeding a lot. It was pretty thick and different from what I was used to. I’ve always had horrible periods so I’m not overly squeamish or anything like that. This was different though. I called my doctor and they couldn’t see me until the next day. The bleeding continued. I went to the doctor and explained what was going on. We did two ultrasounds and they informed me that I was having a miscarriage. I was on birth control. I had the nexplanon in my arm. How on earth was I pregnant in the first place? They didn’t know. We added another form of birth control and I started dealing with this weird turn of events. I’ll be honest and admit that I didn’t emotionally process this at the time. I was sad. I didn’t know how to tell J at the time. I did but not for a while and we didn’t speak about it back then. We didn’t discuss it and I had no desire to focus on it. I still don’t care to talk about it. We lost a baby we didn’t even know we had.

Fast forward to 2017. I had an IUD at the time and had it removed in March. We were finally ready to start talking about starting our family and wanted to give my body time to get back to normal. The doctor recommended 6 months off of birth control before trying to get pregnant. We didn’t listen and just decided that whatever happened, happened. I started tracking everything. I was also on a weight loss journey at this point so tracking was my thing. I knew when I was ovulating and my BBT and all kinds of stats no one cares to hear about. If you’re reading this and you know us, you know we don’t have children. It’s been 21 months. We’ve been trying to conceive (TTC) for 21 months. I’ve cringed when people ask me when we’re going to have babies. I’ve cried countless tears when I see pregnancy announcements. Don’t get me wrong, I’m so thankful for those women that they can have their baby and that it’s their time. My heart is so sad for us though. I have days where I just can’t imagine that this is real.

It’s time I started talking about this. We’ve kept this a secret for a long time. We didn’t want to drag anyone into this difficult journey with us. At the beginning, I was so excited. Each month, I genuinely thought I might be pregnant. When we moved to AR, I decided to back off of the tracking and the constant thinking of it all. I quit drinking completely and I planned each moment of our lives around babies. It wasn’t healthy honestly. I was driving myself crazy and I was so sad. They teach you how easy it to get pregnant your whole life and for some women, it is. I am not one of those women.

I haven’t given up hope. We may still conceive but I am coming to terms with what’s been going on and how I can handle it. It’s time for me to share my story though and stop holding it in all the time. Struggling to get pregnant is so personal and private but it’s also such a difficult journey to tackle alone. J is amazing and patient and so considerate with everything in life, but this is big. This isn’t something you can prepare for and I’m not sure it’s something two people can carry on their four shoulders. It was time.

That’s my story for now. It’s not anywhere near over but it’s where we’re at. If you’re one of our loved ones reading this, thank you for being our support system. We know we are surrounded by people who wouldn’t hesitate to help carry any burden and we appreciate you more than you know. Some of you have helped in ways you don’t even know about because you didn’t know we were struggling.

Thank you for reading my story. God bless.


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