Eventually, I was going to show you this picture . . .

. . . and tell you of our news. Instead, we spent yesterday afternoon visiting the hospital's radiology department for an ultrasound. I am miscarrying at ten weeks, and our littlest babe, who was due 12/12/12, won't be nestling in our arms this side of heaven.

As we left the office of the OB, we walked into a waiting room full of swollen bellies. From there we walked out of the Curtis Center onto Washington Square on a beautiful spring day where strollers flooded the park. With a heavy heart I realized that little people in strollers are still my reality. This loss does not equal shattered dreams of children and strollers as it would for those experiencing a miscarriage the first time being pregnant. I still have two little girls, and pushing a stroller through the park is my normal. This loss doesn't totally overhaul my sense of normal. It still hurts. A lot. I still grieve. It throws a curve ball at my expectations for the coming year. Silly things, some of them. I won't be holding a newborn in my arms on my thirtieth birthday. I won't be needing the maternity bathing suit I got for the summer. I won't be sharing pregnancy with my sweet cousin or my dear friend, both due within weeks of me. I won't be sending out a birth announcement with our Christmas card. I won't need to make another Christmas stocking this year. For the first time in three years, I am not pregnant and/or breastfeeding.

Thank you for your prayers as we journey through this loss. Your concern, emails, texts, and phone calls have been a blessing of encouragement to us.


  1. so sorry Danielle....saying a prayer for your family that God will bring peace to your broken hearts. :(

  2. my heart is heavy for you...praying for you, aaron and your girls.


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