My heart

There aren’t a ton of things that I really pride myself on. But one thing I do pride myself on is my intuition. I have dreams that heavily intertwine with reality, and straight up gut feelings that are right 95% of the time. It’s taken years for me to trust those feelings as more than just passing thoughts. But time and time again I’ve kicked myself for not speaking things that I’m feeling or thinking, and then they’ve turned out being true.

Saturday night, the 10th of November - I told Chris that I thought I was pregnant. I could just tell. I had strong feelings the first time I was pregnant with Eloise, but I hadn’t been pregnant before so I was a little more reserved in trusting those gut feelings. This time I was sure. And as soon as I spoke it out loud I couldn’t stop thinking about it. And day dreaming about it. And instant planning, while simultaneously trying to hit the brakes on my emotions a bit. I didn’t want to get ahead of myself. First, a test.

Sunday morning, the 11th of November - I woke up with excitement in my heart. It’s been a really rough season for me, and WAKING UP happy like that was a refreshing change. I never wake up happy even on my good days. Because I love sleep. And I hate mornings. Haha. I told myself the day prior that I should wait a few more days so that my hormones could have enough time to build and for SURE give me those two pink lines. I knew that if I took a test, and I was wrong, I would be deflated. So, alternatively I texted one of the few friends who knew we were trying.

Me - “I have to tell you this thing!! I feel like I’m going to explode!! I don’t know for sure and I can’t take a test for another week or so… but I THINK I’m pregnant!!!”

Her - “I’VE BEEN WONDERING ABOUT THAT SO MUCH!!!! I didn’t’ want to pry BUT I just had this feeling!!!”

And then I went into LOTS of detail about my physical state and what I was feeling and why I was pretty convinced. She became convinced too, and suggested I take a test.

I have PCOS, and so my cycles are very irregular. Therefore, I really didn’t know when I could take a test. My home test said that it could detect pregnancy up to 5-6 days before a missed period. IF I had a regular cycle, I would have been starting the very next day. So, I figured I’d go ahead and try.

IT WAS POSITIVE!!!!! Praise JESUS





The first time I was pregnant, Chris knew I was taking the test and it turned positive so dang quick I didn’t even make it off the toilet before shouting for him to come and look. Not one of my finer moments… but what can I say?! I was excited!! I was determined to make the experience more magical and exciting for Chris this time. So, I avoided him like the plague all day. I was afraid that if I even made eye contact it would give up my secret. I was bursting with excitement!!! I used that energy and cleaned the house. I did however, tell Eloise in secret that she was going to be a big sister. She just wiggled away from me, irritated that I stopped her from playing to tell her something she didn't understand haha!

Monday morning, the 12th of November - I took another home test to be sure it was still positive (you ladies who have been there… you get it. Plus! It’s just plain fun to see the extra line show up.) I also got a blood test to confirm. Both, of course, were positive. So, I got a local girl to make me a shirt that said “Daddy2”. ((The “2” was in the top right-hand corner. So, it read “Daddy Squared”.)) I bought him a bottle of whiskey that he had wanted to buy for a special occasion but kept putting it off because it’s expensive. I thought what better time than now?! Eek!

That night, when we got home from work we all had dinner, we put (big sister) Eloise to bed, and I gave him his gifts. He was confused as to why I was recording. Until he got to the shirt. He was SO excited and so surprised. “For real?!” Another baby. Bliss.

The next few days were busy. We were gearing up for a trip home to VA for Thanksgiving. We were so thankful we found out before our trip so that we could tell everyone at home our exciting news! I got the referral set up for my OB care. I told my supervisor (and my entire office) that we were expecting. Lots of hugs and excitement. I was hesitant in telling everyone so early on, but with the way it works in the military – my supervisor would have found out anyway through other channels.

Sunday night, the 18th of November – we arrived in Richmond, greeted by Chris’s parents, sister, brother in law, grandfather, and our nieces. It was so great to be home. And, we were bursting at the seams to tell everyone I had a baby in my belly. But, it was late and everyone was exhausted. We waited until the next day.

Monday morning, the 19th of November – Chris and I discussed a few ways we wanted to tell everyone, and we decided to have him wear his “Daddy2” shirt and wait for people to notice. Again, lots of hugs and congratulations. What a joyous day. I couldn’t wait to see my family to share with them as well. I hadn’t really felt any morning sickness yet and I kept waiting to feel a bout of it. All the while wondering how this pregnancy would be different to my first. Whether my gut feelings that it was a boy would turn out to be true (more on that later). So much to daydream about!

I was tracking my ovulation, and so I know the day we conceived. Two different pregnancy apps gave me the same due date – July 21st. That made me 5 weeks and two days.

Monday night – One week after I told Chris I was pregnant, I began spotting. Without giving too many details, it was SO slight and I wasn’t worried. I experienced this when I was pregnant with Eloise. It could be, and probably was normal. I didn’t have any cramping, but I told myself that if I did start cramping that that would be normal as well. I recalled that when I was pregnant with El the days that I did spot were days that I over did it. With all the traveling and toting around luggage, I thought that was probably all it was. Still just praising Jesus for this life inside of me.

Tuesday, the 20th of November – We spent time with our nieces, spent the day at the house. Trying not to worry about what was going on with my body. But, my spotting became a bit more like bleeding. And, I began cramping. Still none of it was too terrible. But, I did started worrying more. I became more aware of my body and how I was feeling. The tender breasts that I noted just a week earlier were no longer tingling. I didn’t feel nauseous. As for my bleeding… it increased all day long along with my cramping. I debated taking  pain meds, but I felt like if I did I'd be admitting to myself that the cramping was more than a "normal" amount. Still hoping and praying that everything was okay, but, beginning to have this intuitive feeling that it wasn’t. I took some down time and streamed K-Love on my phone. I ended up taking a nap, listening to worship music. We stayed up late playing games and laughing with family.

Wednesday morning, the 21st of November – I woke up. That excited & happy feeling I had felt every day for the last week was definitely gone. Instead, I had to rush to the bathroom because my spotting had now become more of a gushing. Chris and I decided we should go to the ER to be sure our baby was still okay.

At about 2 PM Eloise laid down for a nap, and we headed out. I had a horrible feeling in the pit of my stomach and I couldn’t stop crying. I will never forget the feeling checking into the ER. The tech sweetly asked me “what brings you in today?”. Through tears “I’m pregnant, but Monday night I began spotting and my flow and cramping have continued to increase in intensity since then.”. She handed me a box of tissues, and handed Chris forms to fill out while I excused myself to the bathroom. We were whisked back quite quickly, and with a lot of attention. Ectopic pregnancy needed to be ruled out, so nurses were swarming everywhere. [Thankfully, that was ruled out.] Blood-work was drawn, and I was wheeled down to the ultrasound room. It was quiet in there, and lights were dim. It was a refreshing and calm scene compared to the ~10 people whirling around me in the other room. Just me, Chris, the tech, and our baby. Chris held my hand. The tech told us she had to measure a lot of stuff, and to not confuse her silence to mean anything. Several minutes went by and then she started talking to us. “Your endometrial layer is thick. Which, is a great sign. That’s what’s supposed to happen when we become pregnant. But, I can’t see your gestational sac.” My heart sank. She tried to offer us hope. “That could simply mean that you are not as far along as you think you are and it’s just not big enough to see yet.”

I really wanted to believe that. Maybe I just had the dates wrong. Or, maybe the calculations the apps gave me couldn't be trusted. OR, PCOS makes my body all crazy, right? Who even knows?!

We were wheeled back to our room and had to wait forever for any results. Chris was so sweet and kept trying to keep our mind off of it. We played the “Friends” category on the “Heads Up” game on his phone.

The dr. finally came in to talk to us. My hCG level was very low. Between 4-5 weeks of pregnancy it should be between 75-2600. Mine was 16. In a clinical/compassionless way, he said “I believe that you are miscarrying. It’s possible that you are not as far along as you think you are, but with the bleeding and cramping I think that you are having a miscarriage.”

He went on to explain that if I was only 3-4 weeks, then that number isn’t too low. And, that if I was not miscarrying, the number would at least double in 48 hours. Since we were out of town and I didn’t have my regular doctor to go to, he said we could come back to the ER on Friday and get my hCG checked again. We would verify one way or the other.

Chris and I left the hospital with a dark cloud hanging over us but still holding on to a thread of hope. 

I wanted my mom. It felt so weird that we were going through all of this and my family had no idea. So, we went to have dinner at the Sigmon house. We told my mom I was pregnant, but to pray for us because we didn’t know fully what was going on. I texted my dad, and other family members and friends that that weren't there asking them all to pray.

Thursday, Thanksgiving – We had a beautiful, simple, and relaxing Thanksgiving. Everyone around us had been sick with a cold or a stomach bug the first few days of our trip, but on this day almost everyone had started to feel better. My physical symptoms had not changed. Not better. Not worse. I just tried to stay distracted all day. The day dragged onnnn. I just wanted to know if I was still pregnant. I listened to worship music any time there was a still moment. I had a hard time with the quiet moments when I wasn’t distracted. I hugged and kissed Eloise as much as she would allow it, and I kept praising Jesus.

Friday, the 23rd of November – We weren’t in a rush to get out of the house. This was our last full day with Chris’s family. But, we had dinner plans with my family, and we still needed to make a stop at the ER. Reluctantly, we left the house once El went down for her nap. A repeat of Wednesday. I had blood drawn and we waited in the waiting room for about 45 minutes. We didn’t talk much. I was so sleepy. Trips home are exhausting in and of themselves. And then add all the stress on top of it. I laid my head on Chris’s shoulder and closed my eyes while he played a game on his phone. Once we were called back, we had a final few moments of hope and then the dr. walked in. He didn’t look hopeful. My hCG dropped to 3 in 48 hours. 

I was no longer pregnant.

One of my first thoughts when leaving the hospital was that I was so glad that we didn’t tell more people. It was so painful to imagine having to go back and re-tell everyone that Eloise was no longer going to have a baby sibling to play with. That my belly wasn’t going to keep growing, and that Chris wasn’t going to be a “Daddy squared”. I just kept crying. How do you muscle up those words?

In the days and weeks that passed I have been wrestling with all of the emotions you can think of. I had a cup of coffee the day after I found out I was pregnant. I had coffee when I was pregnant with Eloise on occasion, and she was fine… so I thought it wasn’t a big deal. But, what if this was all my fault? One cup of STUPID, worthless coffee?! Mom guilt is no joke.

The biggest thing that I’d be lying if I said I’m not still wrestling with a tiny bit, is, giving validation to my baby. When I type those words it doesn’t even make any sense. And, I’m mad at myself for even questioning it. Here’s what I mean –

What I went through physically is what I can best describe as an intense period. A heavier flow than I have with my cycle. Cramps more intense than a standard period, but nothing comparable to labor pains. All in all, for me physically, it wasn’t that bad. 

When the dr. confirmed that I lost my baby, he left the room to get papers for us to sign. I looked at Chris and started crying and said “I really thought there was a baby in there.” He responded with the best thing he or anyone could have ever said to me – “there was”.

I thought that because I wasn’t that far along that maybe science tells us a baby never formed. So, for the first several days I tried to convince myself that I wasn’t pregnant to begin with. Believing that I just had a really intense period was a whole heck of a lot easier to cope with. But, on my first day back to work there was a card on my desk with many sweet sentiments from my coworkers. One stood out to me, and it broke. my. heart.

“Rach, So sorry about the loss of your baby.”

Baby. Your baby.

The words rang in my head all day. I knew what Chris believed. And now I began to see what other people believed.

I began to face the truth. I was pregnant. I lost my baby.

It’s really weird, now, for me to even think that there was a time in the last month that I tried to believe that I didn’t lose a baby. I guess it was a “protecting my heart” sort of thing? I didn’t want to hurt this badly. 

When I did begin facing the truth, I immediately felt two things. Relief, and guilt. (again with the mom guilt… ugh) Relief because I reallyy wanted to grieve my baby. I was afraid of what people would think. I wasn't quite 6 weeks pregnant. Would that count in the eyes of others? 

And guilt. I felt so guilty that I wasn’t giving value to my baby. The baby that God gave me. The baby I praised Him for over and over again. I WAS pregnant. Remember? I KNEW I was before the stick even told me I was. How silly of me to live in denial. 

While I’m thankful that my miscarriage didn’t take too large of a toll on my body, I also wish I could have FELT my baby more. As crazy as this might seem, I sometimes even wish the pain during the loss was more intense. Some days it’s just hard to believe I have a heaven baby.

And then, the next wave of guilt. What about all those other mommas? And all those other babies. Do I even have a right to mourn and grieve and long for my baby who I never even saw? MANY of you mommas who have heaven babies are in my heart and my prayers all the time. I am so sad that I didn’t get to see my heaven baby. Not even on an ultrasound. But, I also can’t imagine how much harder it must be for those of you who were further along. For you mommas who had to actually, literally let go. My heart breaks.

Here are a few tiny snippets of what I’ve learned when facing my reality: 

-Grieving the loss of my baby doesn’t devalue the grief that other parents feel. They are really apples and oranges, yet it’s still all loss. We’ve all lost babies but none of our situations can be compared. Each journey is different just like each baby is different. And, that means the grieving is different.

- This reality is heavy. But, somehow, telling people about our heaven baby feels like a tiny weight lifted. So, thank you for reading this.

- God is still good.

- Miscarriage really is way more common than I realized. #1in4
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Part of my grieving, and part of my purpose in writing this (other than to have the documentation for myself), is to tell you all about my heaven baby. The more time that passes the more I disagree with my past self. Remember when we left the hospital, and I said I was so glad that not many people knew that I was pregnant? For the last several weeks I’ve felt just the opposite. I'm sad that only a handful of people knew about our sweet baby who was now with Jesus.

It’s hard when people ask me if we’re going to try to have another baby. It’s not that I get angry. (Please don't feel bad if you were one of the people who asked. You just didn’t know.) But I keep thinking to myself if only they did know… we do have another baby. I don’t want our sweet babe to go unknown. Now he/she will be known.


Lastly, for now, is this - 

I don't wonder why. Not really, anyway. I mean, I have a passing curiosity, but not an angry/confused "why?!". I'm sad that my baby isn't still growing in my belly, and I doubt that will go away. But, I do have a peace. A peace that only comes from God. 

I believe that He wants to use me and my life for His Glory. Whatever the circumstances. And I want to let him. The Holy Spirit gave me a passion to connect with, minister to, and grow a community with women at a very young age. If God wants to use my life, my body, and my sweet heaven baby for His glory, I'm going to lean in. If you have experienced pregnancy or infant loss, I'd love to hear all about your baby. Even if you only knew them for two weeks or less, like me. I want to know all about your journey and your baby.


With so much love, Rachel


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