When I saw the positive result on the pregnancy test on June 27, it was a magical day for me and my partner. For almost four years, we’ve been hoping to start a family. We’d just spent 18 months at a fertility clinic. Those were long months during which we lost four little angels following inseminations. We were then on a break from treatment due to the pandemic and had to decide what to do next.
This first baby conceived naturally after all these years was a true miracle. We believed this was the one and that within a few months, our first child would be with us. It happened just when we had given up hope. When you’ve wanted something this badly for so long, you see signs everywhere—in every little detail.
Despite our joy, past experiences kept us from shouting the good news from the rooftops. We remained calm and discreet in our happiness. For the first time, we made it past the 6-week mark. We were happy; our little angel was hanging on, staying strong.
Finally, we had our first ultrasound—the first in five pregnancies—and we saw his heart beating. This milestone allowed us to dream just a little more. We started thinking about the nursery and the items we wanted to prepare the baby’s nest. The next appointments began to fill up the calendar. Every day we gained brought us closer to the 12-week mark and to a possible future with our baby.
Then one morning, at the start of the 8th week, the phone rang. The hospital wanted to schedule an additional ultrasound—given our history—for the end of the week, on August 7. Of course we agreed; we were happy to see the baby one more time. The image appeared, and we stared at the screen, searching for the heartbeat we’d seen last time. Silence fell, and I understood without even hearing the words. The little heart was no longer beating in that tiny body. Our baby had gone to join our four other little angels.
Early the next morning, we managed to retrieve the baby, still snugly tucked in her little bag, and take her to the hospital so that genetic tests could be performed. We hope that, thanks to this little one who held on for a few more weeks, we’ll finally understand why we’re unable to carry pregnancies to term.
If our questions remain unanswered, perhaps we’ll start a family in a different way. Perhaps these little angels will help children born elsewhere find loving parents.