Battles

**Content Warning** This piece discusses pregnancy loss.

"God gives his hardest battles to his toughest soldiers"

Who told God I was that tough? I'm really not though. I've been through a lot of stuff in my life. A lot I have yet to share. Right now I'm going through one of the toughest battles I've endured. Just a few weeks after telling family, friends, and all my social media I was pregnant, I had a miscarriage. One month ago, everything I imagined for my and my family's future was gone. It was one of the scariest and most painful things I've been through. Painful, physically and emotionally. I saw everything. I lost a lot of blood, to the point that now the thought of seeing blood can bring tears to my eyes. I'm thankful that my husband was there with me and helped me get through it.

For years I was adamant about not having any more children. It probably had a lot to do with my first pregnancy with my daughter being overshadowed by my diagnosis. Having a c-section was very scary for me, and honestly, I wasn't at the best hospital. Having to give my daughter medication every 6 hours for 6 weeks, taking her to get tested, not being able to breastfeed and dealing with being newly diagnosed, I think just made me fear ever going through that again.

Over the summer my husband sort of brought up the idea of having another baby, admitting he always wanted another. Honestly, for the last year or so I've thought about it too. Mostly with the pandemic and our daughter being an only child, I felt bad that she was alone so much. No kids to play with. Just us and her. She herself has asked for years for a sibling. So we decided to go for it and to our surprise it didn't take long for me to get pregnant. Our daughter was elated, always kissing and talking to my belly, to her baby.

When I was 9 weeks pregnant I went to the ER for bleeding. They said I had a subchorionic hematoma. No strenuous activity, no heavy lifting, no exercise. I could only walk. And for two weeks that's all I did and I was feeling good. Then at 11 weeks I miscarried. Everyone says it's not your fault and there's nothing you could have done to prevent it, but it doesn't feel that way. I feel responsible. I felt horrible having to tell my daughter who was so excited to be a big sister that there was no longer a baby in my tummy and trying to explain it in a way her almost 7 year old mind could understand.

Even though I was excited, I was scared too. Everything about this pregnancy was high risk. My HIV status, my age (will be 35 in October) and I found out from my first ultrasound, that I have a bicornuate uterus (something that I guess doctors missed with my first pregnancy) which means my uterus is basically separated in two parts by a membrane, which leaves me with a risk of miscarriage and the possibility of having multiple miscarriages.

We've talked about maybe trying again and I want to. I want another baby, but God I'm so scared. I'm scared of the risks, I'm scared of another miscarriage, I'm scared of another c-section. I'm just freaking terrified overall. And a fear I didn't have with my daughter since she was my first; the fear of something happening to me and leaving my daughter without a mom.

Right now my emotions are all over the place. I know friends and family mean well by checking in and asking how I am, but I don't know what to say. How am I? Not good. I'm sad, I'm heartbroken, and my anxiety is at an all time high. I feel guilty. I regret telling my daughter so early on and putting her through yet another tough life situation at her young age. I've cried every day since it happened and I dread every doctor's appointment I have to do. I don't want any more blood taken from me and I don't want any more doctors touching me.

I feel for any woman who has had to endure this kind of pain, and if it is something you are currently dealing with, I send you my prayers that you get through it as best as you can.