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Three pregnancies in one year. Three first trimesters. Three moments of celebration . . . until they turned to moments of sorrow.

I’m sure every woman who experiences pregnancy loss has the thought, “I never thought this would happen to me.” I truly never thought this would happen to me. I have two healthy boys—conceived easily, uncomplicated pregnancies, by-the-book deliveries.

We even thought we were done having kids . . . until the pregnancy test was positive. That’s when my heart opened up to more children, and I realized I ached to carry more life. Raise more littles. Nurse more babies. Embrace more chaos.

He felt relief at first when we experienced our first loss at eight weeks. He wasn’t ready. But when the second positive test came, he accepted that we were going to have more. He rubbed my feet every night. Celebrated the heartbeat. Let me nap when I was tired.

RELATED: A Mother’s Love Can’t Be Measured In Weeks

The eight-week fear newly instilled in me came and went. I heard the heartbeat twice. When the spotting started I prayed it was nothing, but that’s what the ultrasound in the urgent care picked up at twelve weeks. Nothing. “I’m so sorry, there’s no heartbeat.”

And suddenly it was happening to me. To my family. Pregnancy loss is my story. And as I’ve shared it with loved ones, fought back tears as I’ve cried out to God, I’ve been met with stories of hope.

And then the third loss happenedfive weeks, barely pregnant. This time he cried. Overjoyed at the positive test. A week later he matched my tears of sorrow.

I think my family would consider me our rock. I’m strong for them. I get it done when it needs to get done. I can crush bedtime, prepping lunches, coffee and walking the dog. But I can’t hold it together anymore. I cry every day. I ache. Always.

I wonder how all of these “flukes” keep happening as my doctor says each occurrence really is unrelated, and I’ll likely get pregnant again. Hopefully have more healthy pregnancies. I’m scared. That I’ll test positive. And find blood a few weeks later.

The hardest part about miscarriage and loss? The hope. I never knew how hopeful and hopeless could coexist. At the same time, I’m hopeful for a positive pregnancy test and feel hopeless that it will last.

RELATED: Sometimes Pregnancy is An Act of Courage

When I entered this year, a third child was never on my mind. As I look toward the end of this year, I’ve lost more children than I’ve birthed. How do you cope with that?

This isn’t a story of hope after pregnancy loss. This is for the mom who’s heard the stories but is still kept up at night with her sorrow. Who feels like something is wrong with her for not moving on. For the mom who can’t take another “just wait until you see what God is doing on the other side of this” pep talk. Or “I lost two pregnancies and then had twins!” success story.

This is a story of loss for moms who are still in the depths of despair, mourning the heartbeats they never heard or that just stopped beating. For the moms who just got answers or never will get answers. For the moms who just found out they’re pregnant and are scared. You’re not alone. If you’re kept up by your tears tonight, you’re not alone. So am I.

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So God Made a Mother's Story Keepsake Journal

Elizabeth McConeghey

I'm a mom to two boys and a wife to my wonderful husband. We recently made the move to North Carolina so that we could live the life we dreamed of with our kids. Our free days take us to the mountains, the Blue Ridge Parkway, or anywhere we can get outside. We believe in raising barefoot, curious kids, all while working full-time.

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