After a Miscarriage, I Waited 2 Years to Try Again – and Getting Pregnant Was Still Terrifying

The first time I got pregnant, it was unexpected. I was taking birth control pills, and having a baby hadn’t been in my plans for my immediate future. But the excitement I felt was undeniable, despite the intense fear of this sudden curveball. My deepest longing has always been to become a mother, and I felt an instant connection to my baby.

Sadly, though, when I was still in the first trimester, I found out I’d lost the pregnancy. It was devastating beyond words.

I didn’t try to get pregnant again for another two years after that. During that time, I read preconception books, attended therapy, began exercising regularly, started tracking my cycles, and took prenatal vitamins, to process the loss and prepare for when I was ready to try again. Once I was, I found myself with a positive pregnancy test in hand after our first month of trying; it was exactly two years from when I’d held that first positive test.

The mix of emotions the faint “positive” line on that test conjured was dizzying. I was simultaneously over the moon, shocked by how quickly it’d happened, and utterly convinced that my body would betray me again.

In fact, I was rattled by how quickly the fear of another loss crept in on my joy. I think part of me had hoped that the extensive mental and physical preparation I’d undergone would inoculate me against anxiety this time around. I’d always been proud of my deep connection to my body and intuition, and I’d spent the last two years strengthening it. But pregnancy after loss had sent that trust out the window.

The first trimester, for me, was one of the most challenging times in my life. I was only four weeks pregnant when I tested positive on an at-home test, and my confirmation appointment – when the doctor would use an ultrasound to confirm I really was pregnant – wasn’t for weeks. I obsessively googled: Is it safe to cook with turmeric when pregnant? Are you allowed to touch your toes in the first trimester? Can I sleep on my tummy at six weeks pregnant?

I began reading not one, but four pregnancy books. I was taking pregnancy tests each day, sometimes multiple times a day, making sure the line was still there, making sure it was getting darker. I symptom-checked incessantly. Are my boobs still tender? Does garlic still make me gag? Looking back, I can see that I’d subconsciously convinced myself that I couldn’t possibly lose the baby if I never thought about anything else.

At that first ultrasound visit, I was trying to mentally prepare myself to see nothing on the screen. When there was, in fact, a tiny gummy bear of a baby, I erupted in tears of disbelief and gratitude.

The best choice my husband and I made in those early weeks was to celebrate every moment, in the moment. We told immediate family and close friends right away, ignoring the 12-week rule. We purchased a onesie days after finding out I was pregnant. We were trying to make it real, hold on to hope, and spend as much time as possible focused on the positives rather than the anxious “what ifs.”

I posted sticky notes on my mirror with affirmations: “Different pregnancy, different outcome” and “Today, I am pregnant.” Looking at these each morning helped ground me in the present. I couldn’t predict what would happen at my next appointment, but I could find comfort in what I knew to be true that day.

Even with support from our small circle and the daily affirmations, by the middle of my first trimester, my anxiety had become so debilitating that I was hardly leaving my house. (Early pregnancy symptoms like nausea definitely weren’t helping, either.) I was becoming depressed and felt myself turning down a dark road.

I brought these feelings up to my OB, and asked if there was any way I could come in more frequently than once a month for reassurance. And thankfully, they went ahead and scheduled me for a fetal heartbeat checkup every single week until I hit the 20-week mark, when I’d likely be feeling regular movements from my baby.

These appointments became my lifeline. When I started to spiral and wonder if baby was OK, I was able to take a deep breath and remind myself that hearing that sweet heartbeat was always just a few days away.

Bolstered by the understanding of my OB office, I continued to seek other ways to manage my anxiety. Online communities became another life raft for me. I could ask whatever came to mind or vent about my worries and handfuls of moms or moms-to-be would rush to the comments to advise me, comfort me, or just say, “I’m going through this too.”

In one conversation thread, I discovered the Miscarriage Odds Reassurer and began checking it nearly every day. Having some data to back up the fact that the risk of losing our baby was decreasing each day helped me move forward in my pregnancy with less anxiety.

I also leaned heavily on my acupuncturist, a phenomenally sweet woman who specializes in reproductive health and fertility. I saw her bi-weekly, and she’d place needles in traditional “holding” points to encourage my body to support my growing baby. She also reassured me that my strong pulse indicated baby was healthy and that she believed they were going to stick around.

But truth be told, I held my breath every moment of every day through those first 13 weeks. A confirmation that my levels of hCG – human chorionic gonadotropin, a hormone your body produces when you’re pregnant – were rising or a visit to the doctor would allow me a brief respite, but I never shook the feeling that my world could detonate at any moment.

And in fact, accepting that this was my experience was hugely helpful. Did I wish I could have a worry-free first trimester? Of course. But that wasn’t how it ended up working out for me. I’d had a previous pregnancy loss, and that affected my second pregnancy journey. My anxiety didn’t mean I was doing something wrong. On the contrary – I was working as hard as I could to manage my mental health. Taking the pressure off myself to not feel anxious helped remove any self-blame I might have felt around my anxiety, which made the road forward much easier.

While the anxiety didn’t disappear overnight once we made it to the second trimester, it did slowly get better. Our 20-week anatomy scan alleviated some worry, and reaching the point of viability at 24 weeks brought things down another notch.

But I’d be lying if I said that even now, just days away from my due date, the anxiety doesn’t still pop up. When it does, what I try to focus on is how, over the past nine months, my body has shown me that it knows what it’s doing. It’s been a daily trust-building exercise that has brought me to the conclusion that my body was, in fact, designed to grow this baby, and all I have to do is sit back and let it do its job.

If I could go back and offer advice to that scared, excited person holding that positive pregnancy test nine months ago, knowing what I know now, I’d just emphasize giving myself grace. A miscarriage can be deeply traumatic, no matter how early the loss occurs, and we can be completely unaware that we’re even still storing that trauma in our bodies until it’s triggered.

We’ve all heard that it takes a village to raise a child, but I also think it takes a village to build a mother. The encouragement of my family and friends, the support of my care team, and the understanding and unconditional love of my husband all helped me make it through my anxiety during this pregnancy. And I know they’ll continue to help me as I navigate the next road: parenthood.