By Heather Matthews

1 in 4 pregnancies end in a loss.
1 in 4 is not just a statistic, it’s me.

I am the 1 in 4.

“Should we try for that 3rd baby, or just enjoy the chaos that was our 2 toddler boys?” It was a conversation we had, but not one we ever made a decision on. Monday September 23rd 2013 I woke up feeling different. After dropping Chase off at preschool I stopped at Rite Aid, grabbed a pregnancy test, went home and sure enough those 2 pink lines were bright, immediate and undeniable. This was the third time in my life I took a pregnancy test and the third time it was positive, but the first time I was nervous. Ryan was only one, and he was a mama’s boy.  There were some random days of spotting and the unrelenting nausea, but nothing that ever prepared me for what was to come. Surely everyone who has a positive pregnancy test brings home a baby. This would never happen to me, and I was past 12 weeks. I was “safe”.  I found out on Christmas Eve that I would forever be a boy mom! We surprised everyone on Christmas Day with a gender reveal.

A few days after Christmas I had to call triage to tell them I lost my mucus plug, at 17 weeks. I was terrified. I lost my mucus plug with Chase, and delivered him a week later at 35 weeks. I “took it easy” for a few days and spent New Years Eve on the couch praying the pain I was feeling wasn’t contractions. I knew it was. The next morning, New Year’s Day 2014, I packed up the boys, with everything they would need to stay with my parents for the next 20 weeks. I knew when I got to the hospital I wasn’t going home.  At 18 weeks I was in active labor. “Heather, you need to get to 23 weeks before we can start any treatments to mature his lungs.  To maintain this pregnancy you will need to be admitted to the hospital and remain on strict bed rest.”  Those are the words that started our 2014. I went in and out of active labor for the next few weeks. I had a private room, at the end of the hall, where the nurses would decorate for me. “Win the Day” was hung on the walls for me. They would bring me food when they ordered take out for dinner. They made me gifts and taught me how to wash my hair without water, while laying in bed! I vividly remember my husband and I talking about how “these type of things” destroy marriages, but we got this! We will come out of this stronger.

Monday January 13, 2014, started in the same way as the previous 13 had. After breakfast I wanted to use the bathroom before one of my girlfriends came to visit. Something was off. I had been dilating silently and Bryce Aaron Matthews was born into my arms at 10:30am. I sat there and screamed as my room filled with NICU staff. He was too tiny. Bryce never knew anything but love, and was held by his mama and daddy his whole life until his heart stopped at 2:30pm. After Bryce passed I was taken for emergency surgery when I began hemorrhaging. My placenta still had not delivered and we couldn’t risk it any longer. When I went back to my delivery room, those amazing nurses, had made hand and foot prints in plaster hearts. They took pictures, dressed him and brought me gifts. There were nurses who came in on their day off to bring gifts. There were nurses who cried with me. There were nurses who I will never forget. That first year was intense. I went through emotions I never thought I would, but they all made me the strong, bad ass woman I am today. My husband and 2 boys are not afraid to talk about Bryce. We have not suffered in silence or hid our traditions. We sing Happy Birthday. We hang 5 Christmas stockings on the mantle. I am a mama of 3 boys and we are a family of 5. That little boy changed my life and perspective as a mother, and I would not have it any other way. 1 in 4 Pregnancies ends in a loss.

1 in 160 babies are born still
24,000 infants die each year
0 women should suffer alone