It feels like it’s taken me a long time to get here. To arrive at this in-between place where I’m finally ready to entertain the idea of ‘trying again.’

Another pregnancy. Another baby.

The thought volleys around in my head. Back and forth I debate whether I’m ready to get pregnant again – whether I even want to. Maybe we have already reached our family’s final number; maybe we will find new ways to grow, just the three of us.

But I know in my heart that I’m not satisfied with this ending.

Not that this wouldn’t be enough. Not that I wouldn’t be perfectly happy leaving things the way they are. But there’s more to this story – it’s not finished yet.

I push my stroller through the drugstore – the buggy that was supposed to be carrying two little boys instead of just one. I pull a bottle of prenatal vitamins off the shelf and grip it tightly in my hand; I read that you should start taking them at least three months before getting pregnant. As the cashier slides the bottle of pink pills through the checkout and into a plastic bag, I feel that I’ve taken one tentative step closer.

It scares and excites me at the same time.

If I could have gotten pregnant again immediately after the delivery of my twin sons, I would have. I had been so focused on bringing home TWO that it was too painful to think about only having one. But I knew that I didn’t actually want to have another baby. All I wanted was to have back the one I’d lost, my sweet Landon.

When these feelings passed, the pendulum swung hard the other direction and I wasn’t sure if I’d ever want to get pregnant again. I felt physically nauseated by the idea which only served to trigger haunting memories of first trimester morning sickness and bleary-eyed exhaustion.

I knew that these feelings were just an expression of my grief – they were different than the desires buried deep in my heart. I waited for time to add its soothing balm to my unsettled emotions and quietly listened for the whisper that it was time.

Fast forward a year and a half. My son is almost two, and my grief feels as if it has been thoroughly explored and charted. While I know that this loss will always be a part of our family’s identity, I am ready to continue building.

I know that this won’t be easy. Gone is the naivety that I had cradled throughout my first pregnancy – the ridiculous reassurance that because I’d made it through the first trimester, everything was going to be okay. Another pregnancy would bring with it a new type of exhaustion, a new type of awareness.

Was I ready to purposefully ask God to breathe life into my womb – all the while knowing that He may call another little one home to Him? Was I ready to open up my heart to this pain again?

Loss hurts because we loved; but I would rather love too much than too little.

It can be frightening to think of what may happen. But I will not let the fear of loss rob me of the opportunity to love another little one. I would rather hold these little ones in my womb and heart for a few weeks or months than not at all.

I don’t know what our completed family will look like – what size or shape it will take. For now, I will take it one day at a time, one pink prenatal pill at a time. I will accept the challenge to boldly step forward out of my comfort zone and place my trust in the One above. I know that no matter the future, He will be with us; we need not be afraid. 


Trying Again After Loss

1 reply
  1. Ashleigh Cooper
    Ashleigh Cooper says:

    I just found this via Pinterest and the quote that you have on your pin image made me cry. It is so incredibly on point to how I’ve felt after losing my baby in January. I always told my husband that I wasn’t happy with our fertility story ending this way. We are currently trying to conceive after our loss. Sending so much love your way. I’ve just followed you on Instagram and look forward to following your story.


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