Second trimester. The “safe zone.” Typically, pregnancy is announced after 13 weeks have passed and the chance of miscarriage drops significantly. When I was pregnant with Stella & Joy, I waited. Zach had a much harder time waiting, often confessing to me on our nightly phone calls that he told someone else. We agreed to wait to publicly announce and make it “Facebook official” until we were safely out of the first trimester.
Well, we now know, there really is no safe zone. I made it to 35.5 weeks with a high risk, identical twin pregnancy and lost it all. I was 5 days shy of my scheduled delivery date when my body failed me. If I’ve learned anything from this experience, it’s that you’re never in safe zone.
When Zach and I first discussed trying again, I said I didn’t want to tell anyone. I would just get big and when people asked I would play dumb. I didn’t want to find out the gender, I didn’t want to get attached. I would only tell a select few people and other than that I was just going to pretend it wasn’t happening. The moment I got that positive test, my whole mindset changed.
When I took the test, I already knew. I just had a feeling. Zach was at work and I didn’t want to tell him over the phone so I called my best friend, Sarah. She cried, I cried, and then this wave of warmth came over me. I was excited. Truly and genuinely excited. That night, when Zach got home, I told him and saw how happy he was too.
We decided to wait at least until after our honeymoon to tell anyone else. Slowly, we began to tell more people. On my birthday, we decided to share with everyone. I know this isn’t going to be easy. This pregnancy is going to be a long, tough road, but right now, I am happy and excited. God forbid this pregnancy ends in loss too, I want every minute of it to be celebrated. This baby will know just how loved and wanted and treasured he or she was from the earliest moments of existence.
So yes, I am only 9 weeks pregnant. I’m not out of the 1st trimester or in the supposed safe zone, but I am happy. Zach and I are both realistic and optimistic. We know just how bad any one of these doctors appointments can go, but we also have hope. For now, we plan to celebrate and plan for our future, and we want all of our family and friends to be apart of it.
PAL, an acronym I was never familiar with. Pregnancy After Loss. That’s what they call it, a loss. So much was lost that fateful Friday. The obvious loss, our beautiful daughters Stella and Joy. What people don’t see is all the other losses that come. First cries, first laughs, first steps, first birthdays. Mother’s days, father’s days, birthdays, holidays. The everyday routine that never had a chance to come to fruition, the sleepless nights that are sleepless for a different reason. The “loss” never ends.