It’s been 9 painful weeks.

Both of us have done our best to put on a face, walk outside, go to work, and be with friends and family. I knew, if I did not step forward into life, I would be stuck in a very dark place.

There are too many things to celebrate, most importantly, the upcoming nuptials of my beautiful sister to her Prince Charming.

In truth, yesterday was the hardest day yet.

My heart of hearts wanted to be grateful and just push back the feelings bubbling to the surface.

There were SO MANY pregnancy announcements on Facebook this week. (B’shaah tova to all of you. Truly. Sending so much love)

At dinner with friends new and old, people I didn’t know even knew I was pregnant, also didn’t know we miscarried and asked how the pregnancy was going. It wasn’t the first time, and although it’s an awkward spot, I am not upset, I was not super private about the pregnancy.

Then, in another conversation, my dear friend (who I absolutely love for always just saying what’s on her mind, so this isn’t a criticism on her in the slightest) told the one pregnant person in the room, “They are trying to get pregnant.” Pregnant lady’s response? “Isn’t trying fun?”

What I wanted to say, but didn’t…

It was supposed to be. It was three years ago. It’s now, literally, the least fun thing in the world that I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy. Also, I’m not trying to get pregnant. I was pregnant. I’m still mourning that.

Sure. Let’s chat about trying again…

We want to. As soon as possible. My body, on the other hand, has other plans. It still thinks it’s pregnant… a little bit. The doctor says my HCG titers are not resolved and we cannot start the process again until they do. Meanwhile, I sat in his office 8 weeks ago and he said we would try again in November… well November is almost gone.

It can’t happen in December because with the current timeline, I would be on bed rest during my sister’s wedding.

Maybe January… Maybe.

Someday. For certain.

I’m awake 30 minutes before my 3:30am alarm, sleepless before our flight to NYC. A trip we originally planned as baby-moon #1 to re-enact our engagement from 10 years ago… This time around, we planned to take photos, and in those photos, announce our pregnancy.

We are still going AND we are still taking those photos where the Chazzband so romantically proposed at the Statue of Liberty, in March of 2008. We’re still going to enjoy each other, and a long weekend in the city.

Even in our grief… we have to keep living.

Even in our grief…we are thankful.

For our friends who hosted us on Thanksgiving, and the many people we are blessed to call our friends.

For our families both near and far.

For our puppies.

For life, love, health and hope.

This blog is a place where I will continue to share the struggle… the strides… my truth. To the woman I overheard gossiping at the Chanukah bazaar who said, “Why doesn’t the Cantor just get over it… miscarriage happens all of the time,” I will not, for one moment, apologize for breaking a silence women have faced for decades. Infertility and pregnancy loss is real, common, nothing to be ashamed of, and should not be suffered alone.

It’s not just a miscarriage, it’s a gaping hole that, while mended and healed over, it will always be a permanent place in our hearts.

I own that.

I embrace that.

This is life.

Messy, real, imperfect… life.

May your Thanksgiving Shabbat be filled with joy even if you are experiencing pain. May each moment we get to open our eyes and breathe, be a moment to cherish and give thanks for.

(Shoutout to my beautiful friend Gwen, who so lovingly made this beautiful necklace in memory of our loss. You can find her jewelry @handmade_by_gwenann on IG. Handmade in Wales!)