A Piece of Us

Hi everyone, I have been extremely MIA on my social media accounts and especially this blog in the last two months.

On our trip back from South Carolina for Thanksgiving I began to have severe pain in my lower right side. Luckily I had already had my appendix removed so I felt I wasn’t in extreme danger. But after our ten-hour drive back to Virginia I decided the pain was bad enough that I needed to see a doctor. While I was at home resting with Bo, Jon needed to go on base to get a haircut. Every Sunday he has to get his haircut, it’s insane how often soldiers have to get haircuts! Anyway,  in October after our wedding, we made the decision to start trying to grow our family. So while Jon was out I took a pregnancy test.




The second Jon walked in the door I surprised him. We both couldn’t believe it, Jon immediately kissed my belly and named our little one “peanut.”

Our concern about my pain now turned into worry about the pregnancy. So we went to the nearest emergency room. They found a cyst on my ovary but assured us the pregnancy was okay. In a week we followed up to make sure it wasn’t an ectopic pregnancy and that the baby was in the uterus,  and sure enough it was! We were so overjoyed that our peanut was safe and sound.

Being pregnant made me feel so special, I was chosen to be that baby’s mother. I more than willingly was ready to give up any and everything to make sure that baby had the best environment to grow big and healthy!  Bye wine, bye sushi, bye licking the cookie dough off the spoon, bye deli meats! Here comes the reason I was so bad at keeping up with posting on Instagram or this blog; I had the WORST “morning” sickness. I could hardly eat or drink anything besides Vitamin Water Zero. I was sick all day, every day. I don’t think I wore make up or put on real pants for weeks! Yikes, right? I didn’t care, I was so over the moon about becoming a mommy again. Hello all day sickness, hello fatigue, hello sore boobs, hello mood swings!


But sometimes it doesn’t matter that you’ve done everything right.

On our 8-9 week ultrasound check up we saw that our baby no longer had a heartbeat. Just. Like. That. Our hearts were broken. We knew about our peanut at an early stage, only 2-3 weeks pregnant. We had already spent months loving and talking to our sweet baby. Now just like that, our peanut was gone. And there was nothing we could do or could have done to prevent it.

Because my body couldn’t expel the baby on its own and carry out a normal “miscarriage” I was given three options.

  1. To wait and see if the baby comes out on its own.
  2. To take medicine to push the process along.
  3. To have a D&C surgery to remove the baby.

I chose 2. To take medicine and move the process along. I couldn’t bear the thought of our lifeless baby just in my body for possibly weeks longer.

It all felt so surreal. I had tears rolling down my face as doctors and nurses told me they were sorry for my loss and asking if I was okay. I had to sit in a room full of strangers waiting for the prescription to be filled that would make all of this feel so much more real. The tears were endless, my heart physically hurt. No, I wasn’t okay. I walked into that hospital earlier thinking I’d walk out with a picture of our baby and a video of the heartbeat. I couldn’t speak. I felt lifeless. Lifting my own limbs to put on my own pants felt nearly impossible. The science behind a miscarriage is that the baby just wasn’t able to form properly. The chances of a miscarriage is 15-20%. 80% of those miscarriages happen before 12 weeks, that’s why doctors suggest not to make it public before the three months. I am 1 in 3. One in three women suffer a miscarriage. I felt like such a failure. It was up to me to grow our baby. I’m young, only 24, with no health problems, why couldn’t I grow a healthy baby? What was wrong with me? I kept apologizing to my husband, I felt like somehow I didn’t do enough or I wasn’t enough.

Doctors told me the medicine would feel like small contractions and the blood loss would be a lot. They told me to expect to see “tissue” and pass large blood clots. Not only did I have to accept our baby was gone, I had to watch it happen. Once I got home, I had to take the first dose of medicine. After the first 24 hours I felt so empty. I sat bleeding out our baby, crying, holding onto my husband for physical support. The doctors told us “you can try again.” That is true, we can try again. And we will. But our baby was the only thing in this world that was made of Jon and I.  And no matter how many times we get pregnant we will never know that baby, that DNA. Did our baby have his eyes and my hair? Was our peanut our little prince? Or our princess? We won’t get to kiss their tiny fingers and toes. We will never meet that baby. Regardless of how many children we have, everything starts fresh.

Jon was my rock. He held me, kissed my forehead, told me so many times how much he loved me and that everything was going to be okay.  Already I feel stronger in my marriage. I have this appreciation for my husband that I didn’t have before. Don’t take that as I didn’t appreciate him, because I did. That man puts up with my high maintenance self, ha! But I fell deeper in love with the man I married, I saw how he quietly took charge. Not once did he let me turn around to flush the toilet once I was done pushing and waiting. He would always do it for me, because he didn’t want me to have to endure anymore pain than I already was. He went to the store when I was unable to move just to get me cheesecake. And guess what the man did, he brought me back a WHOLE cheesecake.  He dropped everything to make sure I was okay, when he also was grieving. He lost a baby too. Even before we officially started dating he would say how much he wanted a family and couldn’t wait to have kids. My sweet husband was in pain but I would ask him how HE was doing, and he always responded with, “sad but I’m excited to keep trying. I know we’ll have another baby soon.” He stayed so positive through all of our pain. For days my eyes were swollen and red yet he would look at me and tell me I was the most beautiful woman in the world. At one point when we finally made it out of the house, he said “Um hun I think you have boogers on your nose.” And he tried to wipe them off for me. My reply, “No, thats just dry skin from blowing my nose so much.” Without me saying anything or even having the chance to start crying again, he took me and held me. I am so fortunate to have him as my partner in life. God handpicked my perfect person.

God gives and He takes away. He does everything for a reason and with a plan. Jon and I trust in His plan for us. On my drive home after finding out we lost our baby I turned on the radio to this song; What a Beautiful Name by Hillsong. I felt an instant peace. “Nothing can stand against…” He is all powerful. With God by my side, I knew Jon and I would move forward from this pain and become stronger christians, stronger spouses, and stronger parents. Don’t get me wrong, the tears were still coming and I was still so heartbroken, but I knew it wasn’t in my control. I knew this was all in His plan, I gave it all to Him. “The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.” [Psalm 34:18 ] I lean on His power to heal.

It has been a few days now. I have laughed but I have cried more. I have had a glass of wine but I didn’t want to be able to have that glass of wine. Coffee made me sick my whole pregnancy, I went two whole months without it. I cried having my first cup yesterday, I wished I was still repulsed by it. It’s all of those pregnancy symptoms you hated in that first trimester that when they are gone, you want them all back. To all the mothers who have lost, you are so strong. Miscarriage can make you feel so lonely, but you are not alone. 1 in 3 women. That’s a lot. I know it’s not a topic that many women or even men share, but I know in these last few days how lonely I’ve felt. I remember the day I peed on that stick and saw those two red lines, I was ready to shout from the mountain tops! Not only did I not share it when I WAS pregnant, but I lost my baby and I’m not “supposed” to share that either? Like it didn’t happen at all? It did! I had the sore/ achy boobs, cramps, took two naps a day, craved food, hated food I loved, dealt with morning sickness, and that crazy heightened smell, I was pregnant!! And even if you were pregnant for two weeks, you were too! Pregnancy is so beautiful and special. What’s right and wrong can be different for everyone but I know that even though I don’t get to meet my baby, I grew that beautiful peanut for nine whole weeks. I will always treasure those two months.

There will always be a little piece of us missing, our first baby.


Naomi Genova

If you’d like to talk or reach out privately you are always welcome to message me on Instagram or email me. I also love hearing the happy stories like a baby after a loss. Or if you’re pregnant now and are just worrying, because everyone who has gone through a pregnancy knows, no matter how much a doctor reasures you, it is so easy to worry. I’m spreading love through this post, and sending a hug to any mommy or daddy who needs it. No one is alone! ❤️❤️

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