It’s a day every parent remembers, often a fond moment filled with excitement, maybe even surprise. The day you find out you are pregnant is a day when your life changes forever. For parents like me, it was a day filled with so much hope. After years of infertility, my husband and I finally received the news we dreamed about. But, that feeling of hope was met with heartache just months later, when we faced the unimaginable losses of two of our children. People often ask me how I can find happiness after experiencing so much tragedy. It’s not easy, but I choose to live life. I’m proof that it is possible to find hope when all hope is lost.
I remember the day like it was yesterday, a memory engraved in my mind and my heart. I had endured years of surgeries, medications, and treatments, hoping to someday become pregnant. On that cold February day in 2013, my husband and I would get that call we had been waiting for, though, I spent the day on pins and needles in anticipation. While the world kept moving in typical fashion, my life was at a standstill. I glanced at the clock: 11:15am. Still no call from our fertility doctor. 12:27pm; still no call. I looked at the clock another dozen times before the ringing of the phone jolted me late in the day. As I greeted our fertility doctor over the phone, he asked me if I was sitting down. I could hear his smile through his voice – yes, the blood work came back positive. At that moment, my life felt complete. I called my husband and shared the news. The years of heartbreak and tears were instantly replaced with hope.
Just two weeks later, our hope was magnified as we got the surprise of our lives. We knew there was a good chance that twins could be growing in the womb, but my jaw dropped as we learned we were expecting triplets; two identical girls and a boy. It’s one of the few moments in life when I was left speechless. As the news settled in, our shock turned to excitement. My husband and I were meant to be parents and we knew we could handle whatever God had blessed us with. Our excitement continued for months, as we began to stock our home with three of everything. Our hope was as high as the boxes of diapers stacked in the nursery; our lives would soon be complete.
But, our dreams were shattered four months into my pregnancy, as we faced one complication after another. Even as the odds were stacked against us, we remained hopeful. I followed the doctor’s orders and did everything by the textbook, but life doesn’t always go as planned. On a bright and beautiful summer day, we were met with devastating darkness. Our triplets arrived more than 17 weeks premature. Our first child, Abigail, passed away that same day. Our hope was suddenly camouflaged by pain. Nearly two months later, we found ourselves once again buried in heartache when our son, Parker, passed away.
Within six months time, we felt the emotional high of becoming pregnant, met three beautiful children and held two of our babies as they took their final breaths. It’s hard to feel hope after facing a loss no parent should ever experience. But, through the grief, we stayed positive. We didn’t have a choice. With one survivor fighting for her life in the NICU, we couldn’t dwell on our devastation. Instead, we learned how to cope with our grief, while staying strong for our daughter. There were days when it was difficult to get out of bed. While the people around me were going about their daily routines, I felt trapped in a world, balancing life and loss. But, I never lost hope, even during the darkest days. Hope is what helped us survive.
It’s been exactly four years since we found out we were pregnant; a time when hope trumped any obstacles in our way. I’ve shed thousands of tears and my heart has physically ached, but over the years I have never lost hope. It’s that very same hope that has helped shape the person I have become today. And thanks to my three beautiful children, I have learned to find hope and happiness every single day.
Thank you so much for sharing your story! This made me ball! My twins were born at 22 weeks as well. My son, Parker, passed the same day and my son, Mason, is 6 months old and still in the NICU. This experience of trying to stay strong for Mason and still grieving Parker has been the most challenging. I found your page, because I read your piece about your daughter’s conference in preschool. I know I’m just at the beginning of our journey, but I also have all of those same fears. I would love to connect and discuss how you handled different milestones.
Rachelle