A few weeks ago I said I wanted to be honest in this space. I wanted to be vulnerable and I wanted to be real.

It’s harder than I thought it would be.

I had a special post planned for Monday.

We bought Topher this adorable little t-shirt: “Big Brother Team Captain”, it said. He wore it to Grandma and Grandpa’s house Saturday evening – he was so excited to share the big secret he’s been keeping.

Of course Nathan’s parents were ecstatic – they’ve been waiting for a second grandchild practically since the day Topher was born.

Then, Sunday morning – I started bleeding.

Just a little spotting, at first.

Then more.

And more and more and more.

We spent Sunday night/Monday morning in the hospital but by the time the doctor finally got around to examining me – we already knew the diagnosis.

“Your pregnancy has terminated,” he said.

So cold. So clinical.

He gave me a prescription for T3 and sent me home with a dismissive “It’s so early, everything will happen naturally. Come back if the pain gets unbearable.”


Monday – I couldn’t move. I laid in bed and cried.

And cried and cried and cried.

We had only found out about the baby the week before.

The day after the Expo, to be precise.

One week – but I already loved my little bean.

I don’t know what I expected – but I didn’t expect the pain.

Nathan had to carry me to the bathroom – then hold me while I sat there, shivering, shaking, trying not to be sick.

I’ve never seen him cry so much, or so hard.

Only one week – but he loved our little bean, too.

Physically – I’m getting there. I can walk to the bathroom under my own steam now, and Topher was thrilled to see me standing in the entryway, waiting for him when he got home from Jaime’s yesterday. “Mommy’s AWAKE!!!” he said, like he was completely shocked to see me functioning again. Last night I sat on the couch with him to watch some of his beloved Diego – and we ate dinner as a family.

But the other pain still feels unbearable.

I feel numb.

Like there’s no colour left in the world.

The few people we’ve told – family – have tried to be understanding. Encouraging. “You’ll have another one,” they all say.

But the way I feel right now?

That’s not even a possibility.

I’m terrified.

If I could think of a word that means more terrified than regular terrified – I’d put that.

I don’t want to go through this again.

I know there was nothing we could have done – we didn’t do anything wrong, “it just happens”. One in four, the doctor said.

But I can’t help but wonder – is it because I’m so small? Did I exercise too much? Maybe I shouldn’t have been lifting Topher?

What if I’m defective?

I debated whether or not to even post this.

I guess I just wanted to say … This is what I’m going through. It’s hard and I’m hurting.

I don’t have anything encouraging to write as a conclusion, so I’m going to share a video instead.

* For whatever reason, I can’t get it to embed – so click here.

I know I’ve shared this song before. It doesn’t help to listen to it now – but I know it’s truth.

“This is what is means to be held, how it feels when the sacred is torn from your life – and you survive. This is what it is to be loved, and to know that the promise was when everything fell we’d be held.” (Held – Natalie Grant)


  1. says

    Holly, I am so sorry! I cannot even imagine what you & Nathan are going through. Please know that I am keeping y’all in my thoughts & prayers. And if there is anything at all I can do for you from another country, I’m your girl.

  2. says

    I’m so so sorry Holly (and NAthan and Topher) for your loss. Miscarraiges are so hard and scary and plain ol’ sad. I wish I could do something to comfort you, but I just want you to know I am here for you at any time if you want to email or chat or have a phone call. I’ll pray for you all. And you are NOT defective AT ALL. You are beautiful and wonderful and an amazing mother.

  3. says

    Oh Holly … I’m so, so sorry to hear this news. Please know that I’m thinking of you and if I could, I’d give you the biggest hug ever. It is SO not your fault – miscarriages are cruel and awful and happen to the most amazing people who deserve the world. You’re one of those people.

    I hope that your heart heals when you feel you’re ready.

    Love <3

  4. Kat says

    I am so sorry Holly – you and Nathan will be in my prayers. May God hold you and your family close right now.

  5. says

    Oh Holly, I’m so sorry. I had no idea you’ve been going through this. I wish I could give you a hug. I don’t really know what to say except I hope you heal quickly (physically) and that God will wrap you in his arms and heal you quickly (emotionally).


  1. […] With everything that happened last month, I never got around to writing about a very important day: On May 14th, Topher celebrated his birthday After months of him answering the question “How old are you?” with a huge grin and the words, “I’m FIVE!” we were finally able to convince him that he is, in fact, two. Or “big”, as he sometimes says. Age is just a number, after all! I decided not to throw Topher a party with his friends since he had been at Tristan’s birthday party just the week before and it would be all the same people – plus the fact that I was still feeling like poo. We had a family party instead. […]

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