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In 2021, Joe and I unexpectedly got pregnant. We were both shocked but happy. We decided that we weren’t going to announce anything until we were through the first trimester.

In August, I started having severe cramps. So severe I was writhing in pain, with no ease. Joe had gone to Ref a soccer game out of town. I called him crying in pain and he immediately jumped in the car and came racing home.

He rushed me to the ER. In the confusion, they thought I said I was 7 months pregnant, not 7 weeks and they rushed me back to labour and delivery. When the nurses back there realized the error, we all took a breath. I called my midwife and told her I could either wait in the hospital for a tech to come in to do an ultrasound or go home and they would get me in the next morning. We talked and I opted to go home and rest in my own bed.

We went home, but I didn’t sleep. I was so worried about our baby. The next morning we went back to the hospital and the tech brought me into the ultrasound room. I asked if Joe could come and she said not right now, but could come later, as she was doing an internal ultrasound as well. She asked me again how far along I was. I said 7 weeks. This is what she said to me and I will never forget her words or the way she said it: “Well either you’re way off or there’s no heartbeat. There’s nothing.”. That was it. She might as well have just come out and said its dead. My heart jumped into my throat. She gave me a towel to wipe up the gel and told me I could leave when I was ready.

I walked out of the room completely numb. Joe looked at me and knew something was wrong right away. He asked what was wrong. All I could do was cry and say I’m sorry over and over. I had felt my heart break.

There are days that I still cry myself to sleep. I see my youngest nephew running around laughing and being silly and as much as I love him, which is so very much, my heart aches, as he was born a few days after my due date. They would’ve been besties.