I always knew I wanted to be a mom. I was that kid who loved helping the younger ones and would find any excuse to cuddle a baby.
What I didn't know was how my journey to motherhood was going to go. That's not typically something you worry about as a young adult with seemingly realistic goals. We all have different journeys, some easier than others.
When my husband and I met and began dating we both knew we wanted to have a family, raise them to enjoy the outdoors and allow them to experience as much as we could offer them.
Three days before our wedding I miscarried at 10 weeks.
Our world crashed. My life was turned upside down. We were about to share a beautiful day of love with our family and friends but we were devastated. It was the type of hurt that's hard to explain through words.
The next six months were hard. Newly married, grieving and trying to conceive created a storm of emotions. It was definitely not how I had pictured our life together beginning.
Miss T, who is now two-and-a half, was born a few months after our first anniversary. My life felt full then. I was a mom. I had a beautiful daughter who received all of our love and attention. We couldn't wait to give her a sibling.
My due date would have made the kids 17 months apart. Perfect! I had always wanted my kids close in age. It was going to be busy but I loved Miss T so much that another baby would be a wonderful addition.
I felt great. The morning sickness wasn't as bad this round and I wasn't as nervous since I had one successful pregnancy already.
I had a missed miscarriage at 11 weeks. My world crashed again. (Missed miscarriage is a miscarriage that is discovered before your body shows signs of expelling the products of pregnancy).
I knew I loved Miss T before then but it increased a lot. I appreciated her. But I still grieved my baby.
We decided to try again, not thinking we would conceive right away. This time the kids would be 19 months apart, still close enough for my naïve childhood dream. I wasn't ready. Something in my gut didn't feel right. Whether it was nerves or instinct I knew but hated the thoughts that something was wrong.
After a few complications and continuing to be told everything looked fine, I had another missed miscarriage at 16 weeks. This one was the hardest yet. I was out of the 12 week "danger zone" and into the second trimester. I had felt kicks and heard the heartbeat. I wasn't supposed to lose another baby. I lost hope.
My lifelong dream of having two kids seemed impossible. I didn't look at Miss T with more love or appreciation like I had previously with loss. I thought “Why her?” Why was I lucky enough to have her but not be able to meet her siblings. It's a feeling that breaks a mother's heart.
We were going to try again; this was the last time I had told my husband. I had fought for any testing we could receive, after waiting for results there were no answers. Medically nothing was wrong.
It was becoming difficult to be happy. I was so anxious, stressed and emotional. Being a stable supportive mother to a one-year-old is hard when your life's dreams are being challenged. I began mentally preparing myself for only one child.
Just over a year ago we discovered I was pregnant again. I felt kicks, I heard heartbeats, I saw a healthy baby growing on each and every ultrasound.
At 19 weeks I was told we were having a boy.
20 weeks later in the early morning hours of a dark November day he arrived. He was here. He was mine. He was alive. With my two perfect babies in my arms my heart was as full as it will ever be.
But what about the babies I miscarried?
I never wiped their tears.
I never kissed them goodnight.
Even though the raw pain is gone, I will never forget my angel babies. I will always wonder who they would have become. Inquisitive, kind and observant like Miss T? Or like Mr B, who's already making me laugh daily with his determination and charming spirit.
These two beautiful kids are in my world. I spend every day appreciating them, loving them and teaching them through a world of adventure.
This chapter of my journey in motherhood is complete.
I am a “Momma” to my little ones.
My journey is not a story that's typically shared of motherhood. Unfortunately I know I'm not the only one who has experienced reoccurring pregnancy loss. I hope by sharing, it helps create awareness and gives others who have lost the courage to grieve and share their love for their babies gone too soon.
About Megan Walter:
Megan Walter lives in the Cowichan Valley with her young family. They enjoying camping, boating and exploring the West Coast.