Emily and her husband walked into their ultrasound appointment on cloud nine. Like most expectant parents, they couldn't wait to see the first glimpse of their little one. But one look at the screen told Emily something wasn't right. The 8-week ultrasound revealed a miscarriage. And Emily's sharing the heartbreaking story as a reminder to other women in similar situations that they are not alone!

Credit: Facebook / Emily Christine

At first, Emily kept her grief private, pretending everything was just fine. She wrestled with feeling as though she didn't have a right to grieve, since she wasn't "that far along."

But as she started opening up to those closest to her, Emily realized just how many had experienced a miscarriage, too. She realized those women also felt compelled to suffer alone because it's a topic rarely discussed openly. And that's what inspired her to share her personal story of heartbreak on Facebook.

Emily's Story

Emily wrote on Facebook:

"I had to pee so badly but they wouldn't let me go.

They said I needed a full bladder because it’s easier to see the baby during the ultrasound. I remember feeling so frustrated not only because of my full bladder, but because I had to fill out what seemed like 50 pages of paperwork before I could empty my bladder and see the baby I'd been waiting to see for 8 weeks.

I finally was walked to the back room where I was greeted with a smile from everyone because the happiness from carrying a baby was contagious. The ultrasound began and I saw the images right in front of me. My heart was beating out of my chest. This was exciting!

This was a day my husband and I had been waiting for, for over a year.

But these images were different than the ones I've seen on Facebook that all my girlfriends had posted, something was wrong.

I saw nothing because my body was just hours away from miscarrying.

My ultrasound tech was quiet and I just knew. She left the room and my husband quickly assured me that "everything is fine." But don't tell that to a girl who has seen hundreds of ultrasound photos, who has searched Instagram for the hashtag "8weeks" to see what her baby now looked like.

I knew it wasn’t right and it wasn’t.

I remember being afraid to cry. I didn't feel as if I deserved to cry because "I wasn't that far along," and "this happens all the time."

I remember holding back the tears with every ounce of my being and not being able to look my husband in the face because I knew his pain would break me.

I was sent home to let my body naturally run its course and it did. I felt everything but had nothing to show for it. My doctor didn't let me leave without warning and she was right about everything. But what she didn't warn me about was everything that would happen after the initial heartbreak and pain.

She didn't tell me I was going to be reminded for weeks to come because my body was going to take that long to 'clean out.' She didn't tell me I was going to have to watch my husband weep. She didn't tell me how hard it was going to be to tell my mom what had happened. She didn't tell me that my body was going to continue thinking it was pregnant for weeks to come. She didn't tell me how hard it was going be to tell people I was fine when I wasn’t. She didn’t tell me that this was going to make me a jealous person over-night. She didn’t tell me how much harder the question 'when are you having kids?' was going to be. And she didn't tell me that it was going to be so hard losing someone I had never met.

But she did tell me it was okay to cry and she did tell me that I wasn’t alone.

Miscarriages are SO real and so common, in fact, one out of four women experience a miscarriage; but don’t let that confuse you into thinking it hurts any less. As large as this statistic is, I still felt alone and I have finally figured out why: because no one talks about it.

It wasn’t until I started talking about it to my friends and family that I slowly realized I wasn’t alone. That my mom, my aunt, my sister, my sisters best friend all have experienced this heartbreak and pain, a heartbreak and pain I wouldn’t wish upon my worst enemy.

People may wonder why I choose to talk about this after months have passed, but it's the harsh reality that time really doesn't heal all wounds so I am hoping sharing my story will help with the healing process. I am not looking for pity and I am not looking for answers. I am sharing this so that maybe one less woman will feel alone and use this as a reminder or message that there is hope after this heartbreak.

This is my hope for you…

I hope that you won’t feel alone.

I hope that you let yourself cry.

I hope that you will see the light at the end of the tunnel.

I hope that though your faith will be tested, you will be strong.

I hope you find peace.

I hope you won’t be afraid to try again.

I hope that you don’t blame yourself.

I hope that your friends hug you a little tighter.

I hope that you give someone else hope through your hardship

I hope that you are a light in the darkest of time.

…and I hope that you celebrate that baby’s life as much as you celebrate the next because no matter how short a life, all life deserves to be celebrated and all loss should be mourned.

Feel free to share if this spoke to you or you feel as if it might speak to someone you know. {Matthew 7:7}"

As one body in Christ, we are not only called to celebrate life’s joys together, but also to bear one another’s burdens — to encourage and lift one another up during times of suffering.

Find Healing

Through every trial, God is there, ready to restore us and bring healing. Here are a few ways to pursue healing after a miscarriage:

- Allow yourself the freedom and time to express all the emotions you’re feeling – such as anger, fear, or sadness. You may want to write them down to sort them out. Then release them to God. Remember that God cares deeply about you and can be trusted to heal you.

- Remember and honor the child you lost. Hold a memorial or funeral service for him or her. Post a memorial to your child online and record your thoughts and feelings about your baby in a journal. Plant a tree in memory of your child, then watch it grow. Each year on the anniversary of your baby’s death, gather with family and friends to share your thoughts and feelings and to pray.

- Share your pain with another person or a few other people who will listen to you and support you as you pursue healing. A trusted friend, a professional counselor, or support group members could provide the help you need.

- Think about the blessings you do enjoy right now in your life, and take the time to thank God for them.

- Have faith in God Himself, rather than just in a particular agenda for your life. Seek to discover God’s will for you rather than trying to convince Him to make your will a reality. Know that if it is God’s will for you to become a parent, He will eventually let that happen for you if you’re seeking His will.

Find even more suggestions for healing HERE

"Ask, and it shall be given you; seek, and ye shall find; knock, and it shall be opened unto you" Matthew 7:7