Grieving the Loss of A Pregnancy


To my Littlest One,

Oh sweet Baby, I could hardly believe it when I saw the faint two blue lines on that stick. Could it be? Could I be blessed to bring another life into this world? I was in such disbelief that I called my doctor to request not just a urine pregnancy test, but a blood test. Could this really be happening?

Positive. Yes, this was happening. There was life growing in me. You were growing inside me. My heart leapt with joy. Pregnant. Me. At this stage of life.

I relished in the moment. When would you be due? But you’ll probably come two weeks early, like your siblings. Boy or girl? Oh, don’t rush things – healthy, just be healthy. Good thing I didn’t give away all of our baby stuff. Here we go again.

I should’ve known when nausea didn’t set in.
I should’ve known when I felt the mild abdominal cramping.
I should’ve known.

But I’m a believer in good things. And you, my Littlest One, were a good thing. And, so while I should’ve known because I know my body, I wanted so desperately to believe that my body was good for you, that you could grow in me, and that everything was fine.

But it wasn’t. Today, I found out my hormone levels aren’t rising like they should be. There isn’t even a glimmer of hope because my levels are dropping.

Stupid hormones.

But without those hormones, you don’t grow. Without those hormones, I can’t support you. Without those hormones, I fail you – and this pregnancy is no more.

Stupid necessary hormones.

I am so sorry Littlest One. I wanted to believe that I could, but I can’t will my body to serve you well. I can’t force those hormone levels to rise. I can’t control any of this. And I am so sorry. Why does my body do this? Why does it try to support life, knowing it can’t? Why does it let that little egg implant, knowing this is what the result will be?

I’ve been here before, sadly. I have Littlest Ones before you who were fighters and tried to survive, but couldn’t. The battle is just too tough inside me. Oh, how you must have tried. Thanks for trying, Littlest One. I believed in you. I believed in me.

My heart is sad, as I now have to simply wait. Wait for my body to realize the hormones aren’t there and that it’s time to let you go.

I am so sorry I failed to give you a good place to live and grow, but don’t you ever doubt that for the short time I knew you were inside me, I loved you. Oh, sweet Littlest One – I am sorry my love wasn’t enough.

Your Mama

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Maricar Harris
Maricar (pronounced “Merrah Car”) is moved to Wichita in July 2014 from Virginia Beach. She married her college sweetheart, Chris, in 1996. Together, they have four kids: Will, Addison, Bekah, and Victor. Maricar and Chris are originally from Augusta, Georgia (the “Home of the Masters”, for any avid golfers out there) and have moved quite a bit while Chris completed residency/fellowship (and an eight year US Navy commitment). Here in Wichita, they are now planting some roots. Maricar is a chemistry teacher at Wichita Collegiate, who spends a lot of time cheering for her Spartans at sporting events. She enjoys a good inspirational book, a freshly brewed cup of coffee, scrapbooking, and dinner date nights. Eating out and going to movies tops the list of things the Harris family likes to do. Having a newborn at 42 has been life changing, but she recognizes the greatness of this blessing and is looking forward to this chapter of life.