Grief, Life, motherhood

My Story, My Babies.

*Trigger Warning*

This isn’t for the faint of heart. I talk about pregnancy loss and I talk about medical termination of one of my pregnancies (abortion because of medical reasons). I also talk about depression and dark thoughts similar to suicide. That might be triggering to some.

If you decide to read do so at your own risk and if you have anything to share feel free. However, I will ban comments that are deemed inappropriate. Thank you for understanding.


Alright, it’s been real everyone. This might be longer than I want it to be. I don’t mind sharing my experiences. It’s tough to even put it in words sometimes. So I’ll do my best and share what I can.

In honor of pregnancy and miscarriage awareness month (October 15th is the Remembrance Day) I decided to share my story. I’ve touched on it in the past. But never in depth talked about my emotions. My thoughts. The grieving process I suppose. I find that talking about it and sharing my story can help others going through the same thing or open a perspective for some that may know someone going through it or simply want to know what we go through. There’s no words for people who’ve experienced this. No amount of words can take the pain away. But, if sharing this can open people’s eyes and chip away the stigma around it. I’m more than honored to talk about it.


Over three years ago on May 23rd, 2016 I would wake up like any other day. No symptoms besides one of my cats being all over the days leading up to. I would take another pregnancy test the same way I did all the other days only for it to come up negative. I was sure it would be negative again. It’s been 10 months of trying to conceive how would that day be any different; or so I thought. Through heavy eyelids, I checked my test five minutes later and saw it clear as day. The other line. The line that tells me I was with child. My life was going to change. My husband was going to be a father. My family would welcome this child with love. Oh how this child would be loved.


As the days passed I dealt with stretching pains, an excited family wondering what we would be having. A girl or a boy. Everyone swore up and down it would be a boy. While my husband and I were sure I was having a girl. I have a journal where I kept my thoughts and growing maternal instinct almost every week. The joy we felt when found out we were going to have a baby girl. I still swell with bittersweet emotions from the thought. How tightly my husband held my hand. The way I laughed when they told us it was a girl. Surprising my parents with a chocolate cake that had a pink flower. It’s all there. I cherish those memories. My last memories with her. The last ones I had where I was a first time mother unaware and oblivious to the devastation to come. How I wish I could hug her. Prepare her for what’s to come.


I won’t go into too much detail of that day. I’ll share my thoughts through the whole thing and what actually happened.

August 24th was probably like any other day I suppose. I always bled a bit during my pregnancy with Rosebud. Always had urine infections. That was all normal for 18 weeks. The cramps were surprisingly more painful. As the day carried on my cramps would get worse. Eventually, leading me to call my dad to drop me off to the Emergency Room just in case. I was always told to go to the ER if I experienced bleeding that was out of the ordinary. After a few hours I was out. They checked my Baby girl. She looked great and figured she was sleeping since they prodded her and she moved around. Heartbeat strong as can be. My cervix closed and no signs of anything wrong. My husband had texted me saying maybe I was having first pregnancy jitters. That I was perfect and she was perfectly fine. The cramps never subsided as I went home with my sister in law. We talked about how weird it was that I was still having pain. I was tired. All I wanted was to get to bed and wake up feeling better. Upon arriving home I felt like I was (literally) peeing myself. I chalked it up to the urine infection while baby is on my bladder as I ran to the bathroom to clean up.

More blood? More water? Why doesn’t my pee stop? It’s as if I have no control over myself anymore. This pain. What are these pains on my right side? My appendix? Great. I’m pregnant and about to perhaps die because my appendix is about to burst.

Eventually the pain was coming in and out every few minutes and since I couldn’t reach my parents (it was about past 2am at this point) I called 911. I cried because of the pain and fear. At no point did the thought crossed my mind that I was in labor. I actually thought I was dying of something else. This is where things get fuzzy for me the ambulance ride, arriving, getting my vitals checked, my sister in law asking me if I was okay. I was in a lot of pain and all I wanted was for this pain to stop. I didn’t want to die. I just wanted everything to be okay. I remember my sister in law telling me that the sheets I had hugged between my legs were slowly getting soaked in blood. Before it truly could hit me. It happened. I felt a part of me die. I felt my heart slowly crumble. A little light in my soul go out. I barely remember what I said only the tears and no matter how much I cried out. It wasn’t going to make time stand still. I wasn’t going to get my daughter back. Making the dreadful call to my parents. Telling them I had lost my baby. Their first grandchild. My husband would get a text at work saying his daughter was gone and that his wife was probably bleeding. How time passed so slowly at first in that room where they told me not only that I lost my daughter but my placenta wasn’t coming out. I was losing blood. To endure even more pain to save me. The dark thoughts that went through me at first.

“Do I really want to be saved? Was it worth saving someone who was now an empty shell?”

Yes. I was. But I didn’t know it at the time.

I watched the pale look on my husband’s face as he walked into the room. The guilt and despair on his face was haunting. No tears. Only emotions. I was okay, right? I would be. Just not today or the days to come.


Her ashes are with us. A UTI gone bad to the point it weakened her placenta and everything around her. Nothing could of been done. No amount of antibiotics. Nothing. The grief was still in our hearts when I found out I was pregnant again only months later. We were excited yet cautious. Only to find out that our baby was not well. His brain hadn’t developed and his heart was going to give out any day. He never moved or showed any other signs of life besides his slow heartbeat. Unfortunately, I decided to terminate at around 15 weeks with him. Enough to find out what we were having and figure out what was wrong. The devastation I felt was doubled upon. I cried the whole way home not caring who was around me. I had experience the loss of not one but two babies. I felt as though the world hated me. That I wasn’t meant to be a mother. I was overwhelmed with emotions even up to the day of termination. May 30th 2017 I would lose Ulrich; Our first son.


No one prepares for this. Pregnancy is a time of joy and preparing yourself to be a parent whether it be the first time, second or more after. Also, it not only impacts the immediate person but even those around you sometimes. I was in a dark place where I didn’t know how I could go on without my babies. I did therapy, played video games, took walks with my husband. I started to realize that I had to take things a day at a time. My day would come where I would be a mother hopefully one way or another. Thankfully, I was able to. Yet there are days I think about my babies and the tears come running. Nothing can prepare you for grief. We just live with it everyday.


Thank you for reading this far. If you or anyone you know has experienced pregnancy loss or stillbirth, I am so sorry. My condolences are with you and that person. I hope you know that you’re not alone. Much love everyone.

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Grief, Life, motherhood

Three without You

Happy birthday my Rosebud. It’s been three years.

Three years I’ll never get with you,

-even I find it hard to believe it’s true.

Three years I’ve dealt with this grief,

-still in on our minds even if it’s brief.

Three years that still haunt me today,

-some days I still ask myself if I’m okay.

Three years here without you here,

-Yet, our love for you never disappeared.


For those that don’t know. I was suppose to have a daughter January 2017. But life has other plans and she was born August 2016. Every year I write a poem. We eat out and silently celebrate her. As I reminisce in my pregnancy with her. She was my first. The one that gave me all those first feelings. Doubts. Dreams. All that I can ever hope for in the 4 months that I carried her. If you’ve been through this I’m so sorry. Life heals. Life gets better. You never forget, you just find a new way to live.

Life

Bittersweet Memories

Oh August how wonderful and bittersweet you are. It’s the last month before fall which is my favorite time of year. It’s the weird in between month where it would be the last month before school started. The month before the season would change. You felt the breeze become cooler. The energy of the city would take a different turn as businesses and families prepared for the upcoming school days, the cold and of course the holidays. I would swell in excitement and skittish vibes. What would the year bring? Always hoping it would be better than last year. Growing up my perspective was different. It was hopeful and at times a bit lonely growing up. Then things changed….


August 2016 changed for me after I lost my daughter. I go back to that whole month savoring and reminiscing in the last good memories I had being pregnant with her. Finding out we were having a girl. Playing Pokémon Go to get in my walks for the day. We were looking forward to everything with her. Being pregnant in the winter sounded perfect to me. She would of been born close to my birthday. Losing her changed August for me. I might not smile the same but I feel the breeze for her sake. I enjoy the change of seasons because she didn’t. I will include her and her brother I lost after in May 2017 during holidays. I’ll hold their brother who’s running around right now tighter. These bittersweet sweet memories I’ll always hold near me. August will always bring it back to me and for that I thank you.


Death is not the greatest loss in life. The greatest loss is what dies inside of us while we live. -Norman Cousins

Grief, Life, motherhood

“Is he your first baby?”

I get asked this a lot when I’m out with Alaric. It’s an innocent question. Most would answer it easily with a yes or no. And probably reminisce in baby stories and how is it being either a first time parent or parent to multiples. But it’s a question that sends me spiraling sometimes. Should I lie and say yes? Or should I say no and avoid the questions that come buzzing after. Sadly with my guilt swelling up in my throat. I say yes. Yes he’s my first child. As my stomach churns, my heart sinks and I start feeling almost everything stiffen. How could I say that?

I’m a mother of 3. But, there’s 2 that everyone can’t see. They’re invisible to everyone else except me. Even if those around me forget. I’ll always remember them.

I’m a grieving mother who’s been pregnant 3 times and was blessed to be able to raise one beautiful boy for it. I admit he has healed me more than I thought he would. At first I cried a lot. Whether it be because I was so happy that he was home in my arms. Or cause I was so sad that his sister and brother weren’t with us. Everything was bundled into this whirlwind of postpartum hormones and being a tired first time parent to a child who’s cries and sound of his soft breathing would make my heart swell.

I’m working on not feeling so guilty when people ask. It’s not their fault. I’ve changed my answer to yes he’s my first. While remembering that he was the beginning to many different firsts. The first I get to watch grow up. The first to call me mama. I will still get all those firsts. While still grieving for the ones that didn’t.


If you made it this far. Thank you for reading. If you’re new then hello I’m Sori. In this blog I share my pregnancy loss. In 2016 I found out I was having a girl and in 2017 a boy. Both which couldn’t come home with me. Finally in 2018 my son Alaric was born and I’ve been healing since then along with my husband. We have been so blessed to be able to watch our beautiful boy grow and flourish. Thanks again for reading.