I’m only 20 and had my first pregnancy end in a miscarriage at 19 years old just 2 months shy of my 20th birthday, I conceived in june/July while on a week long trip with my boyfriend for the 4th. We drank and smoked (we both have medical) the entire trip and i continued to do so most of my summer vacation because I’m young and just wanted to have a little fun. The rest of the summer I had nausea mood swings sore breasts but spotted every now and then so I assumed it was because of the birth control pills I had gone on just 3 days after returning from my trip. It wasn’t until September I realized that I had even a remote chance of being pregnant because up until then I assumed it was the bc pills giving me all these god awful side effects. I took a test and sure enough there were the two little pink lines I was petrified to see. I gave it a day for myself to take it all in and then the next morning I started having the worst bleeding and pain I had ever experienced. I assumed it was just my period and that the test was a false positive. So I felt relieved a little, but then the bleeding and pain went on all day long and I passed big huge dark clumps and my heart sank and I knew immediately that the test was not defective and that I was experiencing a miscarriage. Being so young and afraid and still alone in it as my bf assumed it was just a bad period I called my Gynecologist and filled her in on everything, she gave me the worst news I had ever heard. “From what you’ve told me youve just had an 8-12 week miscarriage, I’m so sorry.” She also told me to rest and try and find healthy ways to cope. I cried for days at a time, I couldn’t even get out of bed. And now everytime I look at my Instagram I see the same people I partied with posting photos of their ultrasounds and newborns and jealousy and envy don’t even begin to describe it. When I had had my miscarriage I silently judged and hated every pregnant woman I saw clutching her perfectly round belly and seeing people who wanted nothing to do with children showing them off I just break down. I have been clinically depressed since my miscarriage and now that my would have been due date of February 26th is staring me dead in the face all I want to do is just cry and scream and give all I have just to feel my baby kick, hear their giggle, hold their sweet little hand, name them, even just to get to know if I would have had a son or a daughter...id give anything just to know my baby and do it right. Pregnancy and children were so incredibly far from my mind in every way, and now it’s in every dream, every baby I see I wonder what my little one would have looked like, what they would be like. But I’ll never know. All I have of my baby now is a tattoo in memory of their short life permanently apart of me and a pacifier i carry everyday in my purse that I put on my offrenda for dis de los muertos. I love you Parker, I may not have ever held you in my arms but I will ALWAYS love you and always remember you ❤️