My loss — and why didn't I give up?

(Confessions of a Patient)

I didn't think it would happen to me. Not to me. I had done everything “right”. I followed the doctors, the injections, the advice. I prayed. I believed.

And then there was the silence on the screen. Or worse, the echo of a heart that stops.

I lost my pregnancy. And with her, a piece of myself.

What do you feel after that?

- Emptiness — physical and emotional;
- Anger towards your body;
- Envy to any pregnant woman on the street;
- Silence — because people don't know what to say;
- And guilt... without explanation.

But also...

- Quiet gathering of forces;
- A hug from someone who is just silent with you;
- Tears in the dark that clear the way to the light;
- The first sentence: “I'll try again.”

Why didn't I give up?

Not because it doesn't hurt. Because the pain told me I was alive. That I love. That I could go on. Because at some point, my loss stopped being just an end.
And it began to be a promise. A promise that if I had the strength to go through this, I would have the strength to go on.

If you're there too...

Where the world has stopped. Where every day is hard.
Then I want to tell you: you are not alone.

Your loss is not a shame. It's not a failure. It's part of your story — painful, but true. And it does not make you less worthy of motherhood. On the contrary, it makes you stronger.

Today...

Maybe I have a child. Maybe I'm still waiting. Whatever the outcome, I didn't give up.
Because life doesn't always come when we call it. Sometimes it comes when we just don't stop walking.

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