When I was 26, I had a miscarriage at 9 weeks. It was early. My friends said, "At least it was early." That was supposed to make me feel better. It didn't.
When I got pregnant again a year later, I wasn't happy. I was terrified. Every day I expected to see blood. Every ultrasound, I held my breath. Every Doppler check, I waited for silence. I didn't buy anything until 24 weeks. I didn't tell my family until 20 weeks. I didn't let myself love that baby until I could feel her kick.
Pregnancy after loss is not the same as a first pregnancy. It's not the same as an uncomplicated pregnancy. It's anxiety wrapped in hope, wrapped in fear, wrapped in guilt for not being happier.
If you're reading this because you've had a loss, I'm sorry. And I see you.
Here's what helped me — and what I've learned from supporting dozens of patients through pregnancy after loss.
One day at a time. I couldn't think about the whole pregnancy. It was too overwhelming. I woke up each morning and said: "Today, I am pregnant. That's all I know. That's enough." This mantra got me through the first trimester.
Limit triggers. I unfollowed every pregnancy account that posted bump photos, gender reveals, or nursery tours. I muted group chats where people shared pregnancy news. I couldn't handle it. That's not jealousy — that's self-protection. Unfollow without guilt.
Find a provider who gets it. Not all OBs and midwives understand pregnancy after loss. Mine did. She ordered extra ultrasounds. She let me come in for Doppler checks when I was spiraling. She didn't say "don't worry." She said, "I understand why you're worried. Let's check."
Join a support group. I found an online group for pregnancy after loss. It helped to hear other women say the same things I was feeling. "I haven't bought anything." "I'm 30 weeks and still scared." "I feel guilty for not being excited." You're not alone.
Allow room for joy (when it comes). In my second pregnancy, the first time I felt a kick at 18 weeks, I cried — not from fear, but from relief. That was the first moment I let myself feel excited. It didn't erase the anxiety, but it made room for both. You can be terrified AND hopeful. They're not opposites.
One of my patients, "Leah," had two early miscarriages before her third pregnancy. She couldn't bring herself to buy a single baby item until after 24 weeks. She didn't announce on social media at all. She didn't take bump photos. She held her breath at every ultrasound, every Doppler check, every kick count. Her son is now 3 years old. She says, "I didn't enjoy the pregnancy. But I survived it. And he's worth it."
Another patient, "Maya," lost a baby at 19 weeks due to a cervical insufficiency. Her next pregnancy, she had a cerclage (stitch in her cervix) and was on bed rest for months. She was terrified every day. Her healthy daughter is now 5. Maya told me, "The fear didn't go away until I held her. And then I cried for a different reason."
What about the guilt? Many women feel guilty — for grieving, for not trying again sooner, for trying again at all, for feeling joy in a subsequent pregnancy when they "should" still be sad. Here's what I tell them: grief and joy can coexist. You can love this baby AND mourn the one you lost. You're not betraying anyone. You're surviving.
Here's what I wish someone had told me: you don't have to be grateful every second. You don't have to love being pregnant. You don't have to post bump photos. You just have to keep putting one foot in front of the other. That's enough.
If you're pregnant after loss and struggling, please reach out. A therapist who specializes in perinatal mental health can help. Postpartum Support International has resources. You don't have to do this alone.
And if you're reading this because you're still waiting for your rainbow — still trying, still hoping — I'm holding space for you. Your turn is coming.
This article reflects personal experience and clinical observations. It is not a substitute for mental health care. If you're struggling, please reach out to a therapist or support group.
— Emily Carter, IBCLC