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A Very Special Post

August 18, 2017

I should be pregnant right now.


I know that's a weird thing to say, but it's the truth.


I should be day dreaming about a nursery and what my baby will look like. I should be telling my family and my friends and I should still be straddling the line between surprise and excitement. But I'm not.


See, I was pregnant. For a short time. Almost too short of a time to even have noticed, but I knew the truth. It was there. In black and white on four different tests.


And then I no longer was.


I'll spare you the details, but I want you to know that it was painful. Physically and emotionally. I have never experienced such pain.


And then it was over. Just as it had begun.  


Looking back, that "short time" was one of longest times of my life. It was filled with tears of joy before the tears of sadness came. It was that life-defining moment that they make movies about and write poems about and give speeches about. At least it was for me.


The crazy part is... I thought I was okay. Ya know, emotionally. The statistics were against me. It was normal. It was almost expected, in a way.


So I looked forward. The future was bright, though it looked different than it had before, and I charged on.


And then I woke up one day and realized that I was missing something. Someone.


And I realized that my life has totally changed. I was the same Katie, but a different version.


Because no matter how hard I tried to forget, I couldn't. And finally, I realized that was the point. I shouldn't forget. I wouldn't forget.


I had been told that being a woman is awesome.


But then my body gave life.


And then the world took that life.


And I was forced to go on, because that's what women do.


We build. We smile. We laugh. We cry. We give life. We grieve. And the world goes on. Our lives go on, and that's okay.


My world wasn't changed for a "short time." It's been changed forever.


My world of sports and work and laughter and love has an extra rainbow these days. A constant reminder of the love that exists between a mother and the child that she never met.


And my world goes on.


*** Writer’s note: It is estimated that one in three pregnancies end in miscarriage, yet society has not yet fully accepted this experience as a normal topic for conversation. For many people,  including myself, this experience has been very private -- only a few extremely close friends and family knew of the situation. However, I wanted to write this piece for other women reading to tell you that you are not alone. I’m not looking for sympathy or empathy, but if my words can help shape even just one woman’s life, then I will not have suffered in vain.


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