It’s a freezing February day in Texas and I’m miscarrying my first pregnancy. Months back I was honored with an invitation to be in a bridal shoot for a friend of mine and with my luck, both eventful days just happened to coincide.

Months later, I now look at the photos and just think of how the hell i was able to sit in hair and makeup for hours cramping without painkillers (I opted for no meds, silly me.) nonetheless, how was I even able to smile?! In between breaks I had to wipe my tears and pretend I was doing just fine, and from the pictures I guess you’d think I was. All I remember from that day is my inside voice telling me “the show must go on,” and it did. It has. I can’t help but wonder, how great are women to be able to experience such grief, such heartache and still have the ability to move on? The day still haunts me, that ugly feeling of “shit, am I leaking?” that fear of staining that gorgeous dress cause it wasn’t mine. I wish I could say it’s gotten easier. I wish I could say my hearts healed, but there’s no point in lying.

7 months later and here we are. Still not pregnant, and now with PCOS. Guess you could say the odds are ever in my favor. For everyone who’s trying, for everyone who’s lost that miracle, and for everyone hoping for healing in there heart. Hang tight, chin up, and smile, the show must go on. I’m here with you!

Sorry for the long post, and thank you for reading.