Not a story I share often.. Jennifer's Story
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After we had our first child, I struggled to get pregnant again. Months turned into years, and eventually, the doctors diagnosed me with infertility. They put me on fertility medication, and after about three months, an ultrasound showed I was producing eggs, but my body wasn’t creating the fluid needed to help release them. To support the process, they gave me a hormone shot, and that same month, I finally got pregnant. Earlier, during one of the ultrasounds, they had seen four eggs, and there was concern that multiple might take. Sure enough, I became pregnant with triplets. At around 10 weeks, I began spotting heavily. I’ll never forget the fear I felt walking into that appointment. Bloodwork showed my levels were dropping fast. They rushed to prescribe medication to try to stabilize the pregnancy. It worked—but only partially. I lost one of the babies. It’s hard to put into words what it feels like to carry life and then feel it slip away. I was still pregnant, but I was grieving at the same time. I don’t think I had space to process it back then—I just focused on keeping the remaining babies safe.
Nothing prepares you for that kind of heartbreak. You’re carrying life and loss inside you at the same time. It’s a grief that’s hard to explain, especially when you’re still expected to keep going, to keep smiling, to keep showing up strong. There’s a strange and sacred space between hope and heartbreak — and that’s where I found myself. It’s a space many of us have quietly walked, sometimes without anyone ever knowing. If you’re reading this and you’ve felt that same pain, please know you’re not alone. Your grief is real. Your love is real. And your baby mattered. This experience changed me. It softened me, deepened me, and made me so much more aware of how precious, fragile, and sacred life truly is. I carry that love — and that loss — with me always.