This letter comes with trigger warnings: miscarriage and abortion

I would like to share a story, my story of my first-born daughter. So, relax, grab a drink and let’s dig into how I was reborn to become a wife, mother, and whole new ass woman. If this isn’t your cup of tea sis, I won’t be offended.

Every womans story is different. Every pregnancy is different. Unplanned, planned, IVF, miscarriage, abortion.

There are even those that believe they have a right to our bodies because whether we like it or not, we were born with a vagina, uterus, and ovaries, an ability to create life so some people want to have control over that.. over us. If you are a woman with fertility issues you might harbor shame and guilt after all, isn’t this what women were born to do?

Fuc* that narrative.

We are so much more than baby machines. We are human beings, and if you have fertility issues know that I support you and I wish I could share your pain so you wouldn’t have to feel it all.

A woman’s gender role is to grow and give life. A mans gender role is to plant his seed. This is the narrative we have been taught. Female. Male. And while those gender roles are basic concept, I also recognize genders of our LGBTQ+ members. You can like it or not, but this is our world.

January 2020

I moved from my hometown, Salt Lake City, where Mormons thrive, and polygamists keep to themselves. Do I know any “pligs” as we call them? Of course, I do, but only the ones who have left the Fundamentalist LDS communities. The pligs stay on the outskirts of Utah. If you’re curious about them just pick a Walmart in a small southern Utah city and you might just see a few wives- hard to miss a parade of prairie dressed women with 15 children.

In December of 2019 my job offered me a position in Denver, which happened to be where my boyfriend lived, so I talked it over with him and we decided to take the leap, I moved to Denver in January.

About a month of working in this new role, I started getting migraines, the kind that make you feel like you want to die. The first one I lost my peripheral vision, the second I started having “aura” right before the migraine hit. I didn’t think much of it, but I had never had them before, so we started talking about seeing a doctor.

That’s when I realized… I was a week late.. I took a pregnancy test that morning. POSITIVE. I made a sorrowful march into the kitchen shoving the test in my boyfriend’s face. He looked confused. Ahhh, yes, why the fuc* would he have any idea what a plastic stick was doing in his face. Naivity? Maybe sex ed doesn’t teach the boys these basic items.

IM PREGNANT. Begin tears of sadness

The fuc*ing look on his face. Bless this man’s heart and soul for being the calm I absolutely needed in this moment. He had no idea, but this wasn’t the first time I saw positive results on a pregnancy test. This time was different though.

I looked at him and started to plead. We had discussed marriage and I knew I wanted to spend my life with him, and he expressed the same feelings but the LAST thing I wanted was for this kind good hearted man to make a life changing decision because despite all methods of contraception, we were pregnant.

“I won’t marry you” I blurted out. I can’t because this changes everything. I want a love marriage not one based off of consequence.

I sobbed and sobbed in his arms because my heart was not only hurting for the weight of this on his conscience but because I knew that I would not have an abortion.

My first pregnancy ended in abortion. Yep.

IM A DAMN SINNER GUYS. At 22 I was dating “unbeknownst to me” a married man. And this married man had made himself out to be my knight in shining armor. Kind, loving, and so attentive. He made space for me in his home and he would talk about the future. One night turned into unprotected sex and when I said to pull, he said no. As I write this, I have such a pit in my stomach because this truth I have held close, and now the world will read it. This is my truth though, my story.

Once I let him know I was pregnant, he ghosted me and I was forced to handle it by myself at the clinic.

I found out later that he was married, and his wife was also pregnant at the same time I was. They had two homes, which made the scandal easy for him.

Now in the present moment, with this positive test glaring me in the face, all I knew is that in my heart, an abortion was completely out of the question, it nearly killed me the first time, and I have regretted it every day. I also felt the trauma of my first pregnancy and started having my all too familiar panic attacks.

My boyfriend held me. He was excited. He was so happy, and when I saw the warmness in his heart and smile on his face I couldn’t help but smile back.

Okay, this is good.

The last reaction from a man that heard this news was, “Oh well by the way, I never told you this, but I am married. You better get an abortion; you are going to do it alone. If you choose to keep it, it will never be mine and I will deny it until my grave. It’s not mine.”

Lesson learned: Protect yourself, just use the condom.

February 2020…

I have my first appointment at the OB. Cold jelly, scanner is moving around(by the way, do they have to push so dam* hard?!), squeezing my boyfriends’ hand. Holding my breath………

Very unexpressive she says to me, “Okay so here is baby A, and here is baby B, twins. Baby A is smaller but that is typical because they are fraternal. We are going to need to see you every week since twin pregnancies are high risk.”

WHAT. THE. FUC*.

So two. Okay. Okay. Okay……. OKAY. I’m squeezing Arash’s hand pretty tight now. I remember him just asking over and over, so wait twins? Twins?

I start to SOB.

I AM BEYOND THRILLED. I have always dreamt of twins. I wanted these babies; I loved these babies already.

I went to work and started a registry with gender neutral items. DOUBLE OF EVERYTHING. I told everyone. Our families cried with joy. My friends couldn’t believe it.

TWINS you guys.

Next appointment, everything is good, both babies have heart beats, but twin A is still relatively small. My ob assures me everything is looking good and to not worry.

I went home sick to my stomach; I knew in my heart that Twin A wasn’t going to make it. I prayed all day every day. I talked to both of them and begged god to give this baby a chance and to bless us with a miracle, to give baby A the strength to grow.

My sweet baby A just wasn’t ready, unfortunately, we lost him in the second trimester. His heart rate slowly decreased and eventually the ultrasound tech wouldn’t discuss him anymore with me. She would move the scanner over him check the heart rate and I would hear the slow heartbeat. She would make her notes and then move on to baby B. This went on until we no longer could see the baby.

Moving on after miscarriage while still carrying…..

I mourned that little soul, but I knew that my healthy baby B was growing and that gave me strength. Oh, but man, the comments I got from a few specific family members and friends….

“You still have another baby growing inside you”

“Some women can’t even have children, you should be grateful for one”

“Don’t cry, don’t be upset. You’re stress will hurt the baby”

Grief is grief. So please, sit down, mind your fuc*ing business and let me process my emotions the way that I need to.

Did you ever get that advice?? “Don’t stress!! It’s bad for the baby!!!”

OKAY SO I WILL BE A ROBOT. I WILL FEEL NOTHING AND THAT WILL MAKE THE BABY HEALTHY, huh?!!

Stress is normal, happiness, sadness, guilt, shame, etc etc. We carry these little souls in our bodies, but WE ARE ALLOWED TO FEEL. WE ARE ALLOWED TO STILL BE HUMAN

Opinions and beliefs are like ass holes, everyone has one.

At my 85732988^th appointment…

“How’s baby??” Ultrasound looks normal. Pee in this cup. Your gaining weight too fast, you need to eat more fruit, less carbs.”

Cool. What can I do for sleep?

Chamomile tea, Epsom salt baths.

What about something to knock me out because I am getting knife kicked in the ribs all night?!!!

Try tea.

Alright. Oof, the bittersweetness of pregnancy.

34 weeks- which is like the “god let this be over please” stage of pregnancy:

I am at work, and I look at my feet, they are massive. Something is wrong, intuition maybe. My boss says, “ ahhhh no, it’s normal when you’re this far along.

I continue working.

6 hours later I am in the hospital, we stay overnight, and they give me two steroid shots.

****PRE-ECLAMPSIA!!!!!!!***

Now, we go home on *mandatory* bed rest.

I am allowed to be on my feet for a whopping total of 30 minutes a day.

Cue *ADHD* This was by far the most challenging part of my pregnancy. Movie marathons, TIKTOK binges, and short walks around the house throughout the day. I was miserable, not just physically because of the preeclampsia, but also mentally because my brain felt like it had all this energy with nowhere to go.

A week and a half go by, I am monitoring my blood pressure every couple of hours reaching the point of insanity because I am a person that never wants to stop moving.

I go into the OB for a checkup ultrasound, still high blood pressure but there was a bigger problem. My placenta was no longer doing its job. Baby B was not growing anymore

I was sent to Labor and Delivery that night.

The face of naivety for what is to come:

First thing in the morning, before they started Pitocin, my OB broke my water.

I dilated from 1-10 cm in ONE hour.

Holding on for dear life:

No time for an epidural. I screamed, cried, and begged for the epidural. There was no time, and my scoliosis was complicated, so it was taking too long to try and place the needle.

I cried, “I can’t do this, I can’t do this” My nurse responded in good supportive nurse fashion, “You’re going to have to.”

When I tell you I screamed, I SCREAMED when I pushed.

Two pushes and our 4 pound miracle baby was born. She had a couple of issues but three days later and no NICU time, we took her home.

After all the hell I went through, she also had the AUDACITY to look nothing like me. My narcissistic hopes to have my baby look a little like me were gone. Kidding, kidding. I do think every parent likes to compare their features to their child/children. For me there is nothing to compare with her though, she looks exactly like her dam* aunt. My sister-in-law who is beautiful, but what the heck! Why is it disappointing to me that she doesn’t even remotely resemble me? Do I care? I would say I am a little annoyed when people ask who her mom is, but the fact is she knows I am her mom, and our relationship is unlike any other. Her personality is to a tee like mine which helps me parent her because who knows me better than well… me?

Fast forward to today, she is my 4th percentile tiny, fiery, spicy, independent, stubborn, sweet, daughter. This girl changed my world, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Thank you for reading and taking the time to hear my unfiltered story.

xoxo,

Olivia

What to expect next? The deep dive into PPD.