By Her View From Home 
I woke up and my first thought was, “I don’t feel pregnant, at all.” I shrugged it off assuming I was just so early in the pregnancy that I wasn’t going to have many symptoms yet. Although I wondered why my breasts were no longer sore and why the morning nausea had subsided since just yesterday. Strange, right? Once again, I just chalked it up to being early in pregnancy.
A few minutes later, I went to the bathroom, and that’s when I knew. It felt like I was living in a dream, a nightmare to be exact. Tears rolled down my face as I called my husband into the bathroom. Blood is never a good sign, and as I looked at the concern on his face, I saw that he knew exactly what I knew: we had lost our baby.
We didn’t say that, of course. We didn’t want to speak it to be true, but a few days and some blood work later, it was confirmed. Oh, my sweet nurse, “Your numbers are really low. I’m so sorry, honey. Your doctor will call you tomorrow with more information.”
I cried like I had not ever cried before as we hung up the phone. My toddler looked at me, confused, “Mommy, okay?”
“Mommy’s sad, sweetie. I’m just sad.” Yet, sad didn’t seem to quite fit.
The next day as I spoke with my doctor, I heard the words I knew were coming “chemical pregnancy.” My heart sank to my stomach just the same. The word sounded so medical, too medical, almost like I was never really pregnant at all. The word didn’t seem to make sense compared to the pain I was feeling. It didn’t seem to quite fit, either.
My doctor was kind and compassionate, but I’m not so naïve to realize that this is his job. He sees it every day, and to him, it is an unfortunate reality. To me, it felt like the worst heartbreak I had ever experienced. I knew the pregnancy was early, yet the love was already there. When I saw those two lines, my heart grew a little bit bigger.
As I’m typing these words, I should be close to two months pregnant by now. I should have seen my baby on an ultrasound and heard the sweet heartbeat. I should be telling my friends and family, but I’m not. I realize I’m not the only woman who has experienced this heartbreak and this pain, who has heard the words and the scientific reasoning—the words that didn’t seem to fit.
We aren’t alone. You see, like so many women, I loved the baby I never got to meet. The one who really never got the chance to grow. And in the midst of everything that didn’t make sense, love did.
To my angel baby: I love you, and loving you was the only thing that seemed to fit just right.
by Justine Oertel 
by Britt LeBoeuf 
by Kelsey Scism 
