If I thought that having my precious girl in my arms would settle my mind and rid me of the anxiety I felt during my pregnancy.

I was wrong.

Babies die.

Sometimes for no reason.

And, I was convinced that she was going to die.

Weeks turned into months turned into years.

When she was two both of us came down with the flu.

It was a horrible two weeks. But, we survived. It seemed as though she would be alright.

A few months later I read about a little boy, also two, who came down with the flu. He went to sleep for a nap and never woke up.

It seemed we weren’t safe afterall.

Personally, I feel like the trauma of miscarriage is a trauma that is very hard to escape. In part, because it is often times something that the parents deal with privately. But, even if you have invited friends and family to grieve with you, it is something that you need to walk through alone.

I had great prenatal care.

But, I wish that even after we saw that beating heart on the ultrasound the midwife had recommended that I see a therapist. I’ve only started to realize how important it would have been for me during that pregnancy and the early postpartum days.