Pregnancy After Loss: Managing Anxiety and Emotions

Discovering the Pregnancy

On August 30, 2023, I stood in shock, staring down at a positive pregnancy test. I had seen so many negative tests since our loss, I just assumed this one would be as well. I wanted to feel ecstatic, but instead, I found myself living in a whirlwind of emotions trying to process what I was seeing. What do I do now? Will we get to meet this baby? What if this little one doesn't make it? Can I handle the grief of loss again?

It wasn't like our other pregnancies, where I came up with a cute way to tell my husband we were expecting. Instead, I waited until our older three had gone to bed and sat him down in our living room, telling him I was pregnant. I sat with tears in my eyes and hope in my heart that we could bring this little one home. We both didn't say it out loud but could tell we were wishing the same thing.

Early Appointments and Lingering Anxiety

I called my OBGYN office the following week to schedule my first appointment and explained to them our previous loss as well as a chemical pregnancy I had in between. I was so thankful the woman I spoke to was filled with compassion and understanding. She scheduled us for an early ultrasound, hoping to ease my concerns.

Our six week ultrasound came. As my husband and I entered the room the ultrasound tech asked how we were doing. I immediately broke down in tears explaining the anxiety I was filled with as we awaited to find out if our baby had a heartbeat. She spoke softly and assured me she would let us see our little one regardless of the outcome. The ultrasound began and there on the screen was the flicker of our little bean's heartbeat. For a fleeting moment, I felt relief, but it was quickly overshadowed by new worries.

The doctor let us know the heartbeat was not as strong as he would like for this gestation, so he wanted us to come back in a week to follow up. I felt like the wind had been knocked out of me. How could I make it a week? Every day I expected to see spotting, to feel cramping. Every day I walked a tightrope between grief and hope. I hesitantly tiptoed forward, as if one misstep could cause me to plummet into the hole I had been in. It seemed hope was just out of reach.

Weekly Monitoring and Small Victories

My husband and I went back in for our seven week appointment, my hands sweating and my heart pounding out of my chest. Please, please let this baby be okay, let this baby be growing. We were able to catch our breath for a moment again, baby was growing and little one's heart beat was stronger. They had us come back in for week eight and nine to continue to monitor via ultrasound. Thankfully each week our little one kept growing and the heart beat kept getting stronger.

I wanted so badly to celebrate. I longed to feel pure joy and excitement as we welcomed our rainbow baby. I had heard that term and now we were going to be welcoming the rainbow after our storm. The storm that had shaken me and filled me with emptiness.

Living with Anxiety Throughout Pregnancy

I didn't realize how deeply anxiety would weave itself into every moment of the next nine months. Silent prayers and desperate hope accompanied me to every appointment, as I longed to hear our baby's heartbeat. I went in truly fearing the worst. I couldn't fully embrace the glow and bliss of pregnancy, no matter how much I desired to.

Our 20 week anatomy scan came and the only appointment they had available was on the one year anniversary of our miscarriage. I went in absolutely terrified. They asked if we wanted to find out the gender but we said no this time. It wasn't because we wanted the surprise, I hesitated to bond with this baby, apprehensive we could have another loss.

In the back of my mind though I knew I'd be devastated regardless. I wasn't able to rationalize, only live in fear. I spent many OB appointments in tears, talking to nurses. Grief felt like a weight on my chest, leaving me gasping for air, endlessly treading water.

The Final Weeks

We finally got to our thirty-six week appointment and the OB decided to induce in one more week. Thirty-seven weeks, I was praying we would meet our baby. I didn't want to prep anything baby-related: clothes, a bassinet, a car seat. I avoided preparing for the baby because uncertainty consumed me. No one could reassure me and my thoughts remained to myself primarily afraid of the judgement and criticism.

My husband and I arrived at the hospital the evening of our induction, the nurse asked what was most important to me. My response was, "I want my baby and myself to live." I crumbled. I'd been carrying so much mentally for nine months that I couldn't do anything but break at that point. The nurse gently comforted me and reassured me she wouldn't let anything happen to us.

Welcoming Our Daughter

It was a stressful delivery as baby was in distress once my water broke. The nurses worked diligently to ensure our safety. They were calm and steady, letting me know everything would be okay. In the afternoon hours, after the ups and downs of labor, our beautiful baby girl was born. I was in disbelief, overwhelmed by the perfection of her tiny fingers and peaceful expression. Every part of me elated that I could breathe. All the months, all the tears, all the anxiety, and here she was.

I treasured skin to skin with her, feeling the beat of her heart. The bliss of having her in my arms, clinging to me, the comfort we both needed. I never wanted to let her go. I could feel in those moments my body relax for the first time. The tension in my shoulders, the rigidity I'd been carrying, all of it gone. I'd prayed for her and now I got to love on her and bring her home. It was everything I'd dreamed of for our family.

Knowing You're Not Alone

After our baby girl was born I spent time talking with other mothers who have experienced both loss and pregnancy after loss. No one had talked to me about how different pregnancy is after a loss' grief. How it may not be filled with joy, how it might look differently than before. I'm here to let you know momma, you aren't alone. Your thoughts are valid. You've been through unbearable pain and heartache and it is okay to feel anxious.

Don't be afraid to reach out for help, to talk to someone. Feel free to e-mail me or comment with your stories. Deep breath momma, I'm here for you.