Emma Claire: The Backstory

Welcome to our blog. This blog is to document our (mine and my husband Mike's) thoughts and feelings about our second pregnancy. You will see posts from both of us.


For some people, this would be a momentous occasion, filled with joy and hope and elation. For us, this is the beginning of what will most likely be the scariest time in our lives.

Not that the idea of being a parent wasn't scary the first time around. We found out November 2010 that we were going to be parents the following August. Our child was unplanned, and I was a little angry and annoyed and upset at first, but once I got over my selfishness, I was totally in love, and scared to death. We had all the usual "Oh my God, how can I be a parent, I am SO not ready for this" moments, but mostly we happy, excited, and waiting anxiously for our little BOJ (bundle of joy) to arrive. I had an amazing pregnancy; no morning sickness, no swollen ankles, no back ache, no problems. Everything was textbook perfect. I had no worries at all.

Little did we know, things weren't going to turn out the way we'd expected.

I went into labor on my due date, and when we arrived at the hospital, I had already sent a litany of texts and made at least a dozen phone calls, letting people know we were going to have a baby! After we checked in and we got to the exam room, our world crumbled.

We discovered, in that dim little room filled with nurses, doctors, residents and ultrasound techs, not to mention two very shell shocked parents, that Emma had passed away sometime in the 24 hours prior to my going into labor.

There really are no words that can express the horror of that first hour. To have everything you had planned for, had hoped for and dreamed about ripped away, and then having to go through the process of giving birth, which should be joyful and celebrated, with no hope of a positive outcome, was the most horrible thing imaginable, or so I would have thought. Reality was much worse.

We greeted our daughter, Emma Claire, early in the morning on August 10. We said hello. Then we said goodbye.

The next few days, weeks and months were so very hard. People we had known who were also pregnant when we were were most likely going to have healthy babies (and did, thank God) while we were left with empty arms and empty hearts. It was really hard not to be resentful, and angry, and let's face it, jealous. Despite not having our child in a tangible sense, we know she is with us, in our hearts, everyday, and will always be part of our little family. But it's still hard. And I suspect it will always be hard.

But, here we are again, pregnant, for the second time. As I am writing this, I am 8 weeks along, and due on the 22 of December. We scared to death, and hopeful, and joyful. And scared to death.

We had a visit with the midwife today, and it has been decided that we will proceed as if this is a normal pregnancy, but they will be 'extra cautious' due to our previous poor outcome. Basically, lots of testing, ultrasounds, checkups, etc. Just to make sure everything is okay.

I love our midwife, Mary, who was super helpful and supportive last time around, and I am super happy she will be able to continue to be involved in our care. She always listens to our concerns, and helps us to navigate the dark and cloudy spaces. I feel very blessed to have her with us during this journey. Our friends we have told are already pillars of love and support in our lives; we felt is was necessary to let people know early, in case something happened, so we would have support in place. Most people will not be informed of our expanding family for quite some time. Just in case.

Of course, with a new pregnancy comes a whole new set of concerns, and further, a whole new level of paranoia for us. I am currently trying to break away from eating artificial sweeteners, caffeinated beverages, hot dogs, runny eggs and unheated cold cuts (all of which I ate in my first pregnancy), and come to grips with the fact that my midwife doesn't want me to gain more than 15 pounds. Ugh. Looking forward to an entire diet overhaul, and daily walks with Mike or my coworkers.


The hardest thing so far, for me anyway, is trying to be happy. I want to be elated, but it's very difficult to be joyful with doubt and fear hanging over you head. I keep thinking 'what if something goes wrong?' and 'what if this is the only part I get to enjoy?'. I need to keep in mind that what happened before was a rare occurrence, and the odds of a favorable outcome are very good. I have love and support, and great care. There's nothing to be afraid of. But it's always there, in the back of my mind.


So here's to the future. Here's to hope, love and the beginning of another amazing journey, this second time around.


Love and light,
Shannon (and Mike)