This will probably be long, but the only person I’ve really opened up to about this, is my husband. And, with what I am about to say, I would appreciate you ladies to be gentle, because I know I am blessed in so many ways.

I have a beautiful two year old daughter, who surprisingly only took a month to conceive. I had a really rough recovery, and swore I was one and done, because I didn’t think I could emotionally handle the postpartum recovery process again.

Earlier this year in May, we decided to list our house and find something a little bit bigger. So, I was juggling cleaning my house every day (after a 2 year old ransacked it on a daily basis, and my German Shepherd was blowing his coat for the summer), and leaving on a whims notice, for people to walk through it, so it was a relatively stressful time of my life.

Not even a day after we accept an offer on our house, and put an offer on a new one (which was tip-top of our budget, so that was daunting), I found out I was ‘accidentally’ pregnant. Annnnnd I was MAD. I started to doubt everything. Whether we should be selling a house we could live modestly in, and whether we could afford this new house that could potentially be our forever home. I also felt guilty because my daughter is pretty needy, and all I could think about was how hard it would be to go through pregnancy, with her being so young. I couldn’t just take it easy in the middle of packing and moving, and I wasn’t going to let a pregnancy get in the way of helping.

I was really angry to be in this situation, and even told a few close friends and family members how ‘un-thrilled’ i was about it. I had even asked a friend about miscarriage symptoms (she recently had one and was open to talk about it), and she told me, ‘you just want to have a miscarriage and are looking for symptoms to convince yourself you’re having one’. Crushed. I was crushed.

Around 6 weeks along (I found out at 3), I started accepting the pregnancy and looking forward to welcoming a little one. However, I started spotting on Father’s Day. I kept praying over and over to God, that if it was his will for me to keep the baby, the bleeding would stop, or if I wasn’t destined to have the baby, it would continue, quickly. To my surprise, it stopped. So I assumed that was God’s answer. That he chose me for this baby, and he had answered my prayers. Until the bleeding started again, a week later, and it didn’t stop until I passed everything.

Guilt. The guilt that overcame me, for my resentfulness. The thing my friend said to me, flooded my brain and wouldn’t leave, even though I knew in my heart that was not how I felt. How could God do this to me? How could he allow me to become pregnant when I wasn’t ready, allow me to have a miscarriage scare, make the bleeding stop, and then allow it to continue? How could he take this baby away, after I am at peace with ‘plans’ that were not mine? Guilt. The guilt I felt and still feel for doubting God. Guilt for being angry for all of this. The guilt of a baby barely being loved before it died.

So now here I am, 4 months later, trying to heal. Now wanting that baby that died with out being wanted, and barely loved. Here I am peeing on sticks every day, losing my mind over every small twinge or symptom in the two week wait, absolutely broken by the desire to have a baby, that he has awoken in me. Here I am, crushed month after month, with each negative test.

I just don’t understand why God would allow me to have an unplanned pregnancy when it wasn’t a desire of my heart, allow me to miscarry, set a burning desire in my heart for a baby, and then struggle to conceive after the fact.

I’m not blaming God. I know he is faithful, and he has given me a beautiful daughter, and a beautiful life. I know there are women with no babies with out any explanation, who are faithful and steadfast in their faith, who struggle year after year with infertility. But just I don’t understand, and I am broken and so angry.

**EDIT**

I want people to understand, I do not think God killed my baby. I thought my wording was clear enough to convey that is not how I felt, but I guess it wasn’t.