“I’m either perimenopausal or pregnant.” This is what I said to a few different people in November 2024. Such a strange experience of 2 possible extremes in my body at once at 46 years of age.” We were still in the thick of the aftermath of Hurricane Helene. I was facilitating a number of grief ceremonies between Asheville, Boone, and online. I flippantly made this comment a few times because I was certain I was late in my menstrual cycle due to being perimenopausal. Finally at 3-4 weeks late, I made this comment to my best friend. She said “go get a pregnancy test!” I basically shrugged my shoulders and said, “ok, whatever, I will get the pregnancy test”. My partner, got the pregnancy tests the next day while I was working.
The following morning we tested positive, twice! Both pregnancy tests clearly spelled out in English, PREGNANT. I was beyond shocked. We were over the moon excited. We immediately made my first doctor’s appointment. The doctor confirmed my pregnancy. Then a long series of follow up prenatal appointments were made.
We began to share this most amazing and miraculous news with a select few people that we are very close to. The people we knew would hold us up in prayer and good energy. Also the people we would want to support us if by any chance we lost the baby. It was a celebration each and every time we shared the great news.
I noticed when talking to people about the pregnancy I referred to the baby as “she”. Others noticed as well. It was just an intuitive feeling. I prayed and prayed to the ancestors, giving thanks for bringing this beautiful soul into our lives, gifting us with the miracle of birth, and asking for protection, good health, and strength. I prayed to bring a healthy baby into this world. This was my every day prayer.
On Thanksgiving day, we shared the great news with my family. We all cried in genuine amazement and joy. Crying with joy, my mom said she basically gave up on her hope of me getting pregnant about a decade ago. It was a dream come true for all of us, one we thought we already missed our window of opportunity for. I’m an only child to my parents. I also have an aunt on my mom’s side who didn’t have children and my uncle on my father’s side who didn’t have children. So, me having a child feels like such a huge gift to all of us. One we do not take for granted! We also have 5 of our closest friends who are like family to us who also didn’t have children. So we knew this baby would be well cared for and truly treasured by our entire familial tribe.
Everything felt so right. It felt meant to be, and perfect timing. I am the healthiest I have ever been in my entire life. My partner and I have both been focused on our healing and health over the past year since I moved in with him onto the farm. It was time, and it was perfect. Nothing else would take precedence. We pivoted with ease and amazement to orient our lives towards raising a child as a priority, and we did so with so much joy.
We planned to go to Atlanta the week after Thanksgiving to tell my partner’s family and celebrate with them. We were so excited. He is the only sibling in his family that hasn’t had children yet. Everyone knows he would make the most amazing father.
The week after Thanksgiving we had our first ultrasound. We estimated I was at 8 weeks, but this was questionable as I did not record when my last cycle was. I just knew it took place a week or so after Hurricane Helene devastated WNC and beyond. The ultrasound tech said the baby was measuring at 6 weeks and 1 day. I thought that was ok, I must have started my last cycle later than I realized. No big deal. Well, not at first. They could not detect a heartbeat, but that wasn’t considered abnormal at 6 weeks. They took a blood sample that day to test my HCG (human chorionic gonadotropin) levels and schedule for me to return in 48 hours to take another blood sample. They explained that in a healthy pregnancy, the HCG levels created by the placenta will nearly double in 2 days.

I tried to override the concern, but as soon as I made it back to the car I just cried and cried. My partner drove us home and I continued to cry. He chose the path of faith, and stood strong in his belief the baby would be ok. When we shared with our dearest friends next door on the farm, it took me a while to be able to get the words out as I was overcome with tears. Our friend pointed out, at this point, there is no bad news. So we chose to hope for the best since there was “no bad news” to worry about at this point. We made plans together to have a Moana-thon, and that night we watched Moana together and a couple days later went to the movie theater and watched Moana 2. It was a sweet relief from the overwhelming grief that was washing over me. We canceled our trip to Atlanta until we had more information.
On Friday I received the news that the lab lost my blood sample from Tuesday and they scheduled for me to go to the hospital to give another blood sample on Saturday. Then later that afternoon, the nurse called back and let me know they found the blood sample, ran the tests, and there was little to no change in my HCG levels in those 2 days, which points to my pregnancy not further developing. This was our first confirmation that we were losing the baby. My partner just cried and cried and cried. It was heartbreaking, truly heartbreaking.
We spent the rest of the day together doing exactly what felt good and right for us to help us process. We went for a run, did a workout, and went to eat at our favorite restaurant. We loved each other up, gave each other our undivided attention, and reflected on all the waves of thoughts and feelings.
We still had to go back to the doctor the following week for an ultrasound, which would be the final confirmation of the baby’s condition. So we had some time to continue to process. We both took time to just be with the feelings, let them come up, honor them, and just be. We also balanced this with work projects we each had. So about every other day we would get some work done, and then we would rest and just be in the moment to follow our feelings and needs. He made some amazing progress with our land and goals to work toward building our home. I made some progress on lifting my business back up after it basically collapsed after Hurricane Helene. I went horseback riding on beautiful land with beautiful friends. We continued our routines with running and working out, and I went to yoga classes.
There are times it feels like life stands still, and there is grief and loss. There is shock and not knowing how to proceed. Then there are times that life proceeds, full of miracles and joys. It’s a little bit of everything in this process. From the highest of highs to the lowest of lows. And yet, we continue to feel blessed and grateful.
I have a special friend that lives with one foot in the spirit realm and the other in the physical realm. She said she can sense the soul of my baby, and this soul is a bright light and staying with me still. I wander how long she will stay with me. I like thinking about this. I love her so. I feel the magnitude of her bright light. Her due date was going to be 7/11/25. Seven-eleven feels auspicious, and has additional meaning to me and my bestie. I won’t forget this sweet baby. I will continue to honor her soul. I will continue to love her and feel grateful for her.
I’m heartbroken my body was not able to grow her a healthy beautiful body. I understand why women feel shame about miscarriages. There is an undertone of a belief that something is wrong with us if we don’t develop a perfect healthy baby, as if we are defective. It’s easy to take on shame and blame, and feel like we let everyone down because something is wrong with us that we have no control over. I’m grateful to be surrounded by loved ones that lift me up and remind me these things aren’t true. It takes an extra effort to not allow these beliefs to seep in.
I remind myself of all the things I did right and do well to care for me and this baby; all the things my partner did so beautifully and with so much love to support and care for us. I’m reminded that miscarriages are actually quite common, but we wouldn’t really know this, because we don’t usually talk openly about it in our society. I’m saddened by how isolating the experience is as a result of these stories not openly shared as a norm. I’m now learning that about 1 in 5 pregnancies end in miscarriage. And they are probably more common than this since some women probably think they are having a late cycle, when in fact it could be a miscarriage. As well as those who are pregnant and miscarry before going to a doctor, and therefore are never reported.
So here I am, sharing my story. I choose to talk openly about this experience with hopes it will help someone else with a similar story feel less alone; with hopes we can talk more openly about miscarriages and the trials and tribulations associated with fertility and pregnancy; and for my own healing process, so I feel less alone in it. I want to hear your story. I want you to know you are not alone. I know that many of you may have lost a baby at some time in your life, and still carry that grief with you. I pray we learn to carry the love and learn to truly grieve and honor the loss in a healthy way that doesn’t cause us harm or trauma.
We did a burial ceremony for this sweet soul on the night of New Years Eve. A place where we can continue to visit her. A reminder of the miracle I experienced of creating life in my womb. I learned that as a result of this pregnancy, I will continue to carry my baby’s DNA inside me (which includes my love’s DNA) for the rest of my life. How beautiful to recognize the reality that just like my ancestors, my baby’s DNA is literally with me forever more. I will continue to find ways to honor her bright light and presence in our lives. I talk to her daily and will continue to talk to her however long she chooses to stay nearby. I’m grateful for her and the blessings and sorrows of life and death.
Thank you for sharing. 🤗