But hear me out...

I wish I had never been pregnant. After one chemical pregnancy at 5-6 weeks, I haven’t seen another positive pregnancy test. It was over four months ago now, and it feels like it was just yesterday.

The rush that I felt when I saw that second pink line show up - it was such an indescribable feeling. I shook as I put together a few cute things to tell my husband we were pregnant, and our little Peanut would be due right around my own birthday. 🥜

For a few days, it was perfect. And then, it wasn’t. Doctors told us that weird things were going on with my hCG levels and it wasn’t looking good.

And then we lost him or her. And I cried for what felt like days. It felt like I lost a part of myself, and what’s worse is I felt like I let down my own husband. (He has assured me that I haven’t, but you ladies understand where I’m coming from.)

While I understand we were graced with our little one’s presence for just a short time, I almost wish it never happened. See, before this, we were even questioning if we COULD get pregnant. My cycles have never been normal, but I wasn’t positive for PCOS, and after a handful of months of TTC with no results, it was starting to look like what I had feared about my inability to have kids was becoming a reality.

Now all I crave is to see that second line again. It’s been negative test after negative test for months now. After knowing I can “get pregnant” after all, I just want to know if I can carry a little one to term. Now that I’ve seen a positive test (let’s be honest - I tested about 20 times after the first one just to be sure I wasn’t crazy) it just makes the negative ones that much more disappointing.

If you’re still reading, first of all, thank you for listening to the cry of my heart. Things hurt when they don’t go like you expect them to. It sucks when something you want so badly from the depths of your being is so far out of your control, that me and others like me have the unsatisfactory reminder through chemical pregnancies and miscarriages. But just know that I’m not looking for sorrow or condolences. That time in our past hurts still, but we’re looking forward. Or at least, we’re trying.

Here’s to the next positive test - however far away that may be. And here’s to the last one - may it be a gentle reminder that we’re not in control in this life, and to put our trust a little higher.