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It seems like almost a lifetime ago that I looked down at my first positive pregnancy test. I couldn’t believe that it happened so fast. My husband and I had just passed one month of marriage, and there we were expecting a baby. I remember how elated we both were and full of gratefulness. 

After we told a small group of close friends and family, the bleeding started. “No . . . this can’t be,” I thought. Not our baby. Not me. I Googled so many things and found reassurance in the fact that some women bleed through their pregnancies. But, in my gut I knew. The dream of this baby was over. Taken from me almost as fast as it was given. 

I blamed myself. My body. My eagerness.

I had never felt such sadness or out of control. It hurt when well-meaning loved ones would assure me I would conceive again. Or when they would act like I shouldn’t be sad because it was such an early loss. A loss is a loss, and I still grieved my baby regardless of how many weeks gestation had occurred. 

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Two months passed and the same thing happened again. This time we didn’t tell anyone right away, and I felt so alone in my grief. The second miscarriage really enhanced my doubts, made me question my body, and caused me to wonder if I would be able to sustain a pregnancy past the first trimester. 

Of course, at the time, so many people I knew were expecting. Close friends, family members, co-workers, and announcement after announcement was hitting my social media pages. I was happy for all of these women, but a deep sadness and emptiness filled my heart. 

What am I doing wrong? Will I ever be a mother? Why me? These questions burned inside me over and over. And I started wondering if I was allowed to grieve such early losses. Why couldn’t I just be stronger?

I started to feel like I wasn’t worthy of my grief. 

I have grown so much since that early season in my marriage. In those early stages of trying to conceive. I wish I could go back and tell myself that my grief was worthy. That early losses are still dreams lost. That I didn’t do anything wrong. 

RELATED: I Had a Miscarriage

But since I can’t go back in time, these are the truths I want to pass along. We are always worthy of our grief. And if you have ever experienced a miscarriage, I want you to know I see you. You’re not alone, and I hope you take the time you need to grieve the baby you never held in your arms but will forever hold in your heart. 

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Casey Sorensen

I'm a SAHM of two wonderful boys. I enjoy writing, organizing, and encouraging people, especially fellow moms. I'm a lover of Jesus, running and sending cards via snail mail. It is my desire for all moms to know they are worthy, seen, loved, and not alone. Feel free to follow my writing journey @words.with.casey.

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