Believe absolutely nothing you see on Instagram.

Behind our pastel clad smiling family photo is the painful reality of what was actually going on in this moment.

TW: pregnancy loss

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What you can’t see is the adult diaper I’m wearing under my Easter outfit because my body decided to start to miscarry (for the second time in seven months) on Easter morning. But, because I’m mom, I was not going to let this impact my son’s Easter morning. I brunched, churched, egg hunted until my body couldn’t take it anymore and things shifted into high gear.

We took the pictures for memories my son can have but I didn’t have the heart to post to IG because it simply does not feel authentic to show the picture without the context.

In my head I have a post about the reality of miscarriage teed up, and one day I may actually get to writing it. Unfortunately, this one is my third go at it, so I’ve learned a thing or two. But my hope in touching on this painfully sensitive and private topic is for women who have been here too to feel less alone.

It sucks. It’s painful. It’s lonely.

It’s okay to be mad.

Sharing our stories validates the experience.

🤍