We did not have a Miscarriage

In March 2024, I wrote: We had a miscarriage.
Today, I get to write this: We did not have a miscarriage.

Right now, I can hear my nearly 5-month-old making that perfect mix of laughter and cries while her grandmother rocks her to sleep. My wife is in the kitchen making us tuna-guacamole lunch.

This moment — right here — is exactly what I’ve always wanted. This is the beauty of life.

I waited to write this because I didn’t know how. A big part of me didn’t want to jinx the second pregnancy, or even the months after she was born. I was scared of losing another baby. Scared that saying we are pregnant out loud again might somehow take it away. So I stayed quiet.

We lost our first baby at the end of 2023. The next 3–4 months were brutal. First we waited for my wife’s body to pass the child through medications. Then we waited for her to heal enough to try again. By April 2024, we were “ready.”

But trying again didn’t feel beautiful anymore. It felt like work. Clinical. A chore. To be honest, I fking hated it.

April — no luck.
May — no luck.
June — still nothing.

By then my ego had moved in:
Maybe your sperm is weak.
Maybe you can’t get her pregnant again.
Maybe you’re not a real man.
Maybe... you're weak.

That voice wouldn’t shut up for three months.

At the end of June, I changed two things:

1. I bought some random vitamins from Amazon that claimed to “boost” sperm count. I can’t swear they worked, but I needed the placebo.
2. I surrendered. I told myself we are going to get pregnant and we are going to think super positive about this. I also refused to let my ego tell me I was less of a man.

And wouldn’t you know — two or three weeks later, we were pregnant.

My wife stayed on baby aspirin the entire pregnancy — I’m convinced it helped. Nine months later, the universe handed us a precious daughter who looked nothing like me for the first two months… and now looks exactly like my baby photos, just with her mother’s beautiful features.

Even now, I don’t fully know what to say. I’m just happy. I want more, many more.

I love waking up to her smile in the morning. I love the way she lights up when I walk through the door, whether I’ve been gone one minute or one day. I finally understand why people love dogs — they get this forever. I don’t know how long she’ll greet me with this much joy, but I’m soaking up every single moment.

My soul has been talking to her soul since she was in the womb. That hasn’t stopped. We don’t speak in words, but we still speak — deeply, often. She has so much love to give, and I tear up often in pure bliss every time she sends it my way. When she was born, I told my wife: Now I understand unconditional love.

The pain and uncertainty of our first miscarriage no longer haunt me. When I think about it, I feel nothing but gratitude. I truly believe — and our doctor confirmed — that the first baby prepared the way for the second to be stronger. Thank you, first baby. You will never be forgotten.

If you’ve had a miscarriage, my heart is with you. I can’t pretend to know your exact situation, but I know I can send you love and positive energy.

And I’ll leave you with this, a quote that captures exactly how I feel these days:

“I don’t know the meaning of life. But I think it has to do with babies.”