Picking my daughter up from preschool feels like running a marathon. But what right do I have to feel this way? By Ali Dondero
I want the roses as much as I hate them. By Leslie Stonebraker
The sun was shredding us, both me and the stupid snow cone. By Mary Adkins
I needed a kitchen coated in berry smoothie to finally understand what I couldn’t then. By Nicole Gulotta
I stumbled over the “they.” It felt clunky in my mouth. By Melissa Brand
After bursting into tears, you text your brother-in-law: “Sorry, this is awkward, but make sure she doesn’t use a tampon for the bleeding.” By Lorren Lemmons
Hearing “nonviable” is heartbreaking. Having to ignore that in front of 32 smiling second graders is even harder. By Caitlin Cherry
This year is different. Maybe it’s because I’ve had the miscarriages. Maybe it’s because we both recently turned 42. By Angela Kidd
Next to Orion’s Belt are two dimmer stars. These are the babies I lost, one before each of my sons. By Julia Pelly
If my belly was round and full of baby, would I hate my body less? This body that betrayed me. By Brittany Wren
Nobody will send flowers. You don’t even have a face to conjure when you think of this child. By Maggie Downs
Sorry, can’t make it to the sorority reunion. My thermometer says I’m ovulating!
By Amy Klein
I can’t imagine spreading my legs and letting doctors make quick work of this loss.
By Nicole Piasecki
I’m postpartum. Without a newborn. At 20 weeks of pregnancy, my baby didn’t make it.
By Jenn Press Arata
The #IHadAMiscarriage campaign was launched to de-stigmatize pregnancy loss.
By Jessica Zucker
I was ashamed of my pregnancy losses. I felt I had been kicked out of some elite club of women with impeccably functioning wombs.
By Stephanie Sprenger
After infertility, she’s not the parent she thought she’d be.
By Amy Klein