After two miscarriages, The Hungry Homemaker Blogger, Francesca D'Onofrio, finally realized her dream of becoming a mother.
Ever since I was little, I wanted to be a mom. I grew up in a family of stay-at-home moms and ever since I can remember I wanted to start my own family. I’ve had four pregnancies.
My son, Frankie, is now 6-years-old and my daughter Emilia is 3 in November. I’ve had two miscarriages.
After I got married, Mike and I got pregnant pretty quickly. It was a big surprise. Things were going well until my 15-week check up. The baby was measuring smaller than it should. My hormone levels were not right and from the looks of it, a miscarriage was imminent. The baby had Trisomy 18. The doctor ordered an amniocentesis and I was terrified. I put on a brave face for my family but inside I was screaming.
The day of the amino quickly arrived. Everything was prepped and the doctor began the process of locating the baby on the ultrasound. Looks between the doctor and nurse were exchanged. I looked up at my husband, knowing something was wrong. “There’s no heartbeat,” the doctor said. I went into shock. I smiled, thanked them both, and left the room. I went out into the waiting room where my mother and mother-in-law sat waiting for us, and I broke down.
All I can remember is saying: “My baby’s gone. It’s dead.” The rest is a blur.
After the miscarriage, I didn’t want to eat anymore. I had put on some weight during the pregnancy and I didn’t want to look pregnant, so I didn’t eat. I just started picking myself apart, mentally and physically. I thought maybe this happened because I was a bad person. I thought maybe I did something really bad and I deserved this. I hated myself and I thought, there must be something wrong with me. It was just me searching for a reason and I was taking it out on myself because there was no reason.
I thought the miscarriage was my fault. I wondered, why is this happening? Why us? I told my husband, “Maybe we’re not supposed to have kids.” I thought, maybe not everyone is supposed to have kids.
Seven months later, I became pregnant again. I cried while looking at the pregnancy test. I cried out of fear, fear for what I thought was coming.
While I was pregnant with my son, I was always expecting something to go wrong. I didn’t even order furniture for his nursery until after he was born. It’s terrible to think of now, but I just didn’t have a concrete cause for why I had miscarried and I was afraid it would happen again. I felt really guilty about it but I didn’t want to get too attached.
On August 4th, 2011, Francesco was born. He came into the world by c-section and he changed everything about me. I was so happy. I was finally whole. I had found my purpose in life. I was a mommy!
When people tell me about their loss, I say, “Don’t hate yourself.” Everyone’s grief is different. You need to do what’s best for you. There’s no time limit on getting over it. “Yes, it’s terrible,” I say. “Really, really terrible. But don’t let it destroy you.” Even though it’s hard to see sometimes, there are happy endings.