This isn’t some sappy story that will fill your eyes with tears. Actually, it’s nothing short of a happy ending. Okay okay…. the beginning is a little rough but things are better now, I promise. So let me take you back to the summer of 2018 when it all happened.

It was the middle of June and Clay and I just moved into a new apartment a month earlier. The apartment was tiny, we hardly had any furniture and money was tight. Yet, we were so happy and so unconditionally in love. We had just gotten married and were still living on that honeymoon high. Clay is the love of my life and just looking at him and Landon together made me want to make more babies. So that’s what we did, we started trying. I tracked my cycle and guess what!…Within 5 weeks that small little test was reading “pregnant”. My body was already giving me signs but seeing that word just made things that much more real. It happened so organically and so easily, something must be wrong right? I cried happy tears and Clay smiled with his whole face that day. We looked at each other with wide eyes and couldn’t stop beaming. This was the good part…but it wasn’t long till things turned dark. These first few days and moments were good. We told a few friends (which I instantly regretted)… but we were excited and couldn’t wait to share the news. What could go wrong right?

I started making Pinterest boards of nursery inspiration and thinking about names of our future baby. I couldn’t believe it..we were going to have another baby!! This was such a special moment for Clay and I for so many reasons. Most importantly this would be the first pregnancy he would be a part of. This is the one thing that has always been missing for us in our relationship since he didn’t get to be there for my pregnancy with Lan. I so desperately wanted to experience every moment of a pregnancy with him. I wanted to sit with him as he felt the kicks in my belly. I wanted to plan out a life together and I wanted to hold his hand as we bring another baby into this world. Together. I wanted (and still want, duh) these moments with Clay as my husband. Landon’s pregnancy was so special to me but I’m so eager to go through this again with Clay next to me the whole way. It makes my heart feel full just thinking about it.

I didn’t want to admit it back in July but in the corners of my mind I knew something was a little off. I was in so much pain. Almost as if somebody had a fist around my ovaries and was squeezing them as tight as they could. Not to mention, my nausea was crippling. I remember mornings waking up feeling dizzy and unable to stand. I would dry heave over the side of the bed and rush to the bathroom. I wanted to throw up but couldn’t. I remember crawling to the fridge and crying on the floor as I sipped on ginger ale. Hoping and praying, as I laid there helpless, that the nausea would subside. It didn’t. I was sick for weeks and nothing seemed to help. I didn’t leave the apartment most days and felt so guilty I couldn’t take Landon out to play. Those were some of my worst days. The nausea got worse and worse as I inched closer to my first pregnancy appointment at 8 weeks. By that time, I had probably lost 10 pounds.

I went to my first appointment a little apprehensive, very sick, but also excited to hear the heartbeat for the first time. This day is a little blurry to me now as I look back. I have a way of blocking out memories that cause me pain. Over the past 8 months or so, I somehow blocked out most of this pain and the feelings I had that day. I pushed these memories so far back in my head that it’s hard to remember details. That day, I went to my obgyn and sat in the chair after a few routine tests. She began the sonogram. Minutes passed and I saw the confusion on her face. It wasn’t good. Something was wrong. I got sent to a bigger room after that with a better sonogram machine. Confusion still swallowed her face whole. There was no heart beat and there was no baby inside my womb. “You have something called a molar pregnancy.”, she said in a cold toned voice. She began to explain that I would need to have a D&C surgery as soon as possible. My soul collapsed that day. My whole body broke and sank to the floor with sadness. Not only was my dream of growing our family gone for that moment… but I had some type of weird pregnancy I knew nothing about. This was not normal. What the hell is a molar pregnancy?!

I pulled up google and sat in my bed for the remainder of the day researching as much as possible. Google told me a lot and my anxiety shot through the ceiling. You can google it yourself to get a medical definition, but I’ll do you a favor and spin it into my own words. Basically, my egg was empty and was fertilized with two of Clay’s sperm. Instead of creating a baby, it created grape like cysts inside the uterus, which would continue to grow as time pushed forward. Since it is uncommon (1 in 1,000 pregnancies), doctors don’t know the exact cause of this. It’s just kind of a freak thing that happens for no reason in particular. Things got worse as I continued to read. The aftermath of a molar pregnancy is not a stress free walk in the park. Once you go under for surgery to remove the mole, there is a small chance that not everything was removed. You run the risk of the mole coming back and continuing to grow. Even worse? There’s a very small chance (15 to 20 percent) it will turn cancerous. This type of cancer is very rare and also most likely treatable with one round of chemotherapy. No one likes to see the big C word… and to say my heart skipped a beat is a huge understatement. I was terrified. At that time, my heart dropped over and over again and I let fear take over my entire body. I did exactly what no one should ever do. I started to manifest bad energy and couldn’t find the light any more. The diagnosis started to eat at me. I just wanted this thing out of my fucking body.

I’ll spare you the details, but I had the surgery a week later. I was a little woozy for the next week and bled a lot for the few weeks to come. My body was ridding the toxins that grew inside and I started to feel better every day from that moment forward. I started to manifest good energy and bright light into my life and I swear to you it worked. I think my body recognized the positivity and in turn continued to get healthier. After my surgery I went to the doctor every week to get my blood drawn. They tested my HCG levels (the pregnancy hormone) and slowly but surely my levels started to come down. Another odd fact about this type of diagnosis is that with a molar pregnancy, your HCG levels are 10 times what they should be (hello crippling nausea). So it took a few months to get down to zero, but I eventually made it there. For the past 5 months or so my levels have been at zero and my anxiety finally began to come down a bit. The stress was so intense at first while always having that C word in the back of my mind. As the months pushed onward, I started to live my life again and stopped worrying about what “could be”. Looking back now, I worried about things that hadn’t even happened. Now that I’m at the end of it, I realize how much pressure and stress I put on myself. And for what?

Hard shit happens in life. It always will. Your heart will break and your body and mind will be tested many times. Yes, I’m one of those weird people that believes our lives are predestined (call me crazy if you must). I think things happen as they should and there is ALWAYS a reason for it. Fate takes control. Good and bad. Light and dark. Up and down. We all have those moments that define us, make us grow, create change. Those moments are important and this molar pregnancy is just one of those moments for me. It was supposed to happen. It was supposed to rock my world and test my strength. After all, you don’t know how strong you are until a storm hits. You don’t know how strong you are until it’s the only choice you have. Yep, I’m cheesy as hell… but it’s true. You are strong. I am strong. We are all strong. Manifest that and never give into doubt. God has a plan.

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