Heartbreak + Rainbows: My Miscarriage Story

My Miscarriage Story

Disclaimer: As you can tell by its title, this post touches on a seriously personal, seriously sensitive subject matter – pregnancy and pregnancy loss.

As I share on my home page, my aim here is to share stories, tips, and inspiration on life, business, and all things communication.

We can safely file this one under the “life” and “story” categories. 

One year ago today, we lost the little one who (we know now) would’ve been Bryson’s baby sister.

(She would’ve been due in June, just in time for my 30th birthday.)

That day was the most painful, scary, confusing, heartbreaking day I’ve lived so far, and I’m sharing the story of it now because in the moments of the unknown, reading about other people’s experiences helped me feel less alone in it all.

My sincere hope is that this post can offer the same – some type of comfort + validation to those who have had or will someday experienced a miscarriage of their own.

There are so, so many of us – not just the women going through the physical loss, but the fathers and families who feel it too.

The Days Before

We lost this little one on Wednesday, October 29, 2014 – exactly one week after losing my grandfather and five days after celebrating the first three years of B’s life.

My parents were in town visiting, and we were staying at my favorite spot on earth – Disney’s Aulani.

I was about 7.5 weeks pregnant at the time – had noticed some light spotting on that Monday, then a little more on Tuesday. No cramping yet.

Since I had a chemical pregnancy earlier in the year, my mom and I headed to the hospital for an ultrasound for (what we hoped would be) some peace of mind.

HeartbeatWe measured my HCG levels, which were lower than I expected, but still within a “normal” range.

Then came the ultrasound.

We saw a teeny flicker of a heartbeat and a little one measuring about 6 weeks 5 days.

I wanted to be relieved, but I wasn’t.

(I know my body well enough to know my dates were right.)

That day, I played Mandisa’s “Overcomer” on repeat.

Rested with my feet up, praying praying praying.

Miracles Inside YouWent to old Facebook albums to find photos of myself in my third trimester of Bryson’s pregnancy and saved them to my phone to help me visualize a big belly with this little one too.

Found inspiration in my news feed via image quotes like “You have miracles inside you” and “Si Díos lo prometió Él cumplirá; Él está conmigo todos los días de mi vida y no me desampará.”

Saved those too.

The day was a blur, but I somehow fell asleep that night.

The Longest Day

I was woken up by the worst cramps I’ve ever had – exactly what I’d feared the day before.

(With the chemical pregnancy in May I remember waking up just a few days after the positive test and thinking, “but wait – I’m pregnant. This isn’t supposed to be happening.”)

I knew it was happening again.

The chemical pregnancy (which is such an oddly invalidating term) was emotionally hard, but physically not much different than starting a few days late.

If I hadn’t taken a pregnancy test (again, I know my body!), I may have just assumed my cycle was a bit off.

But this time was different.

I didn’t experience real labor with Bryson (my water broke and he was breech, so we had a c-section within hours), but I had a feeling these weren’t just cramps – they were contractions.

We were heartbroken.

We stayed in the room (a spacious two-bedroom villa with plenty of room for B to play without worrying) for the morning.

My angel of a mom (who, mind you, had suddenly lost her dad exactly one week prior), kept checking on me, bringing warm towels from the dryer that I could put on my belly to help ease the cramps.

I played the “Christian Contemporary Radio” station on Pandora as I sat there….waiting.

Mandisa Post

I tried to keep perspective and focus on what I could be grateful for (like the beautiful, healthy three-year-old boy playing with his new birthday presents in the next room).

I knew it was okay to feel sad and upset and confused, but I also knew that when I was ready to share, God could use me and my story to help other women going through the same thing. Somehow.

I didn’t really want to move (I imagine that’s normal – to feel as if you stay perfectly still this little life will hold on just a little bit longer), but I knew we needed to go to the hospital.

I was super-weak since I’d felt so sick and had barely eaten anything.

My dad went down to the lobby to ask for a wheelchair.

To the Hospital

Once I had enough strength, my mom and I headed down to the car, while Pop stayed on Bryson duty in the room.

As we loaded into the car, the Aulani staff member who helped my dad get the wheelchair walked up to the window and started, “I know you’re in a rush, but….”

I remember being almost annoyed, thinking – “RIGHT. Do we look like we have time to chat right now?”

Then she asked if she could pray with us.

(She prayed just like one of my dearest friends Ashley, which was an indescribable comfort to me.)

I cry just thinking about that moment. She was truly heaven-sent.

As we drove across the island to the hospital, I kept in text with my sisters and close friends, who had been my prayer warriors since the spotting began that Monday.

By the time we got to the valet, the cramping had finally stopped.

We walked in and sat a waiting room full of (seemingly) happy, healthy pregnant women (who seemed to all have at least five kids in tow), waiting to confirm what we knew was already happening.

Blood tests, ultrasound, exam…confirmation.

Tears, but at least SOME closure – knowing (hoping) the worst part was over.


Weeks (or maybe months?) later, we got the test results back and learned that this little one had an extra set of chromosomes – instead of 46XY or 46XX, she was 69XXX.

It’s a condition called triploidy, it happens in 1-2% of all conceptions, and it’s always fatal (usually resulting in miscarriage in the first trimester).

Totally random, no reason to expect it to happen again.

The test results certainly didn’t take the pain away, but I was thankful for an “answer” of some sort.

I know most people who experience miscarriage will never know exactly why their little ones weren’t ready to stick around.

What now?

The ride back to Aulani from the hospital was a LONG one – westbound traffic was even slower than usual. (Took us over two hours to go just over 20 miles.)

Austie noteWhen we got back to the room we saw that our angel from earlier had thoughtfully sent up some chocolate-covered strawberries and a note:

Ms. Nikki,

Please get well soon!


More tears.

I remember feeling devastated yet relieved that it was over and the healing process could begin – whatever that would look like.

B SunsetI also remember trying to make sure my little man felt as normal as possible, even though he knew Mommy had been sad and crying and “at the doctor’s” for the day.

We went outside to watch the sunset – and what a gorgeous sunset it was.

I shared this photo with the caption:

No words for today yet.

Just thankful for this divine sunset and this precious little being who calls me “Mommy.”

(And sometimes “Nikki Ehwedge Bwown.”)

The next morning we woke up and headed down for breakfast with Mickey.

Mickey Breakfast(I look back at this picture and marvel at how “normal” I look…although I had never felt so physically empty – B-man was in Disney heaven, and that helped a LOT.)

At the breakfast table, my parents and I decided to cut our stay short and book flights to head to Texas that night.

It was a little crazy, but if we left that night we’d get home on Halloween morning, just in time to trick-or-treat with cousins and be there to help out with the events leading up to my Paw Paw’s funeral mass the next week.

It was all so sudden and surreal, but being home and surrounded by family in Texas was exactly what we all needed.

As usual, my little Ninja Turtle was a great sport. (He’s one of the most resilient people I know.)

By the time we got back to Hawaii, Jeremy was home to pick us up from the airport.

I had some tears saved up just for him — it was a huge relief to finally let them go.

The Secret Sisterhood

Several weeks later, in December, I shared about my losses via this Facebook video:

2014 Facebook Video

It was right after my ACAC Christmas party (which went all kinds of tech-wrong).

I was wrapping up the year, thanking the clients + customers who had been part of it, noting the highs and lows, and I wanted to express my sincere gratitude to the folks who had sent prayers, love, and light via Facebook on those dark October days.

As you’ll see if you click over to the post, the response to the video was beautiful.

It really is like a secret sisterhood that nobody wants to be part of – you don’t know who’s a member until you have the password:

Me too.

We didn’t “try” to get pregnant again in the months that followed because a) my heart needed time to heal, b) we’ve got a very high try-to-succeed ratio, and c) I didn’t want to be solo and pregnant (or due) while Jeremy was deployed for most of 2015.

Thing was – as deployment got closer, I started to feel sad and a bit antsy about the thought of NOT being able to try till the end of the year.

I even started to feel a bit bitter and jaded toward women who talked about planning for babies like planning for a vacation – resting easily knowing their husbands would be home every night, assuming everything would automatically happen on a set, predictable timeline with no need for travel insurance.

If they only knew…

Then, the night before he left, I got a hunch.

(And if you know me, you know I don’t mess with a hunch.)

What if….?

NOTE: This bit of the story could be considered total TMI even by my own standards (+ this child will never live it down), but it’s just too good not to share, so it’s happening.

Literally the night before deployment, I thought:

“What the hey. Who are we to micro-manage? If God wants to bless us with another little person sooner rather than later, let’s get outta the way.”

So we got outta the way.

The next day, my husband left for a six(ish)-month deployment.


My Magic Refrigerator

Inspired by my buddy Laura (who had recently gotten pregnant with her precious little bundle Finn, born just last week!) and the “baby gear sale” ads that showed up in my mailbox that week, I decided to create my first mini-vision board.

I wanted to get my subconscious mind on board with the idea of me being pregnant, because even if I wasn’t pregnant yet, we’d DEFINITELY be ready to try again once Jeremy was home.

Magic RefrigeratorI cut out pictures from the promo papers – a breast pump, baby gear, a pregnant mama…and glued ‘em on to some extra card stock.

I printed out the picture of my “bump” photo album that I had saved in October.

Stuck the prayer magnet my dear friend Liz had made for Bryson’s Texas baby shower right up there next to it.

I even printed out Google images of families of four (and five – because why not?).

I added the “vision board” to my fridge, right by the handle where I’d see it every day.

For bonus points, I moved one of my maternity photos to a prominent spot on the stairwell.

In the days that followed I noticed that I started to feel unusually sleepy – falling asleep while I was tucking B in, falling asleep on the couch at night before heading up to bed…but I didn’t want to get my hopes up.

Could I be?? I meeean it would make for a GREAT story, but no.

That would just be TOO crazy.

Almost two weeks later (when I was due to start), I noticed a little spotting.

Hopes faded.

Still – I had some pregnancy tests leftover that would expire while J was gone anyway.

I could throw them all away, or I could take one just for kicks.

So I did.

And in a crazy quick flash – it was positive.

Here we go…

I couldn’t believe it.

Excited, shocked, happy, and scared, I ran to my nightstand (where I’d kept the other two positive pregnancy tests from 2014) and compared the line.

It was darker than both – even darker than the control line – but I still felt guarded.

Once you’ve had a miscarriage – that magic made-for-TV “we’re pregnant!” moment is never the same.

You want to be so excited and thankful for the little spirit on board, but at the same time – you can’t help but wonder if s/he’ll ever make it to your arms.

You can take all the blood tests, take the supplements, even see the heartbeat and make it through the first trimester, but you’ll never feel as carefree as you did BEFORE the loss.

And that’s okay.

In the fearful days (especially around the time of the previous loss), I’d tell myself,

“Today, I’m pregnant. Today, this little one is here with me.”

And I’m so incredibly thankful to share that today, at almost 32 weeks in, this little one is still here with me, wigglin’ strong.


Photo by Debbie Leanne

Our Rainbow Baby

If you haven’t heard that before, “rainbow baby” is a term often used to describe a little one who arrives after a loss. The bright spot after the storm.

Our rainbow baby is a baby brother named Deacon, and we couldn’t be more excited to meet him in December.

One More FacetimeDue to his deployment schedule, Deacon’s daddy didn’t know he existed until I was almost 10 weeks along.

That was a fun FaceTime :)

Being 2-30 weeks pregnant without my husband around was interesting, but not nearly as crazy as I imagined it would be when I was so set on avoiding it last year.

We’ve had so much support (+ so much going on), and just like big bro, Deke’s taken it pretty easy on me.

I’ve got everything to be thankful for with this pregnancy.

I haven’t taken weekly belly shots this time like I did with Bryson, partly because of the uncertainty in the first trimester (it takes a while to shift from fear + reservation to excitement + anticipation), partly because I had a three-year-old photographer, and partly because I’ve been rather occupied running a business and raising said three-year-old, which means less “free” time on my hands.

But as we all know – love can’t be measured in pictures and Pinterest projects.

It’s measured by how we treasure the ones we care about – no matter how long we get to have them with us.

My Emotional Disclaimers

It took me a year to write this post because I honestly didn’t know how to share this with you (and the internet).

There’s the TMI factor: How much is too much?

Then there’s the guilt from comparing losses: Who am I to call heartbreak when I have a healthy little guy running around (disowning me when I refuse to give him more candy corn)?

Many women have had several miscarriages. Many women have lost their babies at (or just before) birth – others soon after, or even years later.

Losing a child’s life at ANY point – is a mother’s worst nightmare.

And many aren’t able to get pregnant at all in the first place, which brings up all of its own emotions + complexities.

Then there are all the complicated emotions tied to my OWN gut reactions when the losses were still fresh: What if sharing my story makes others feel bad, sad, or upset in some way?

This time last year when I read posts about new (especially second) babies and pregnancies, I hid them from my news feed.

I’d read and find some comfort in other people’s stories of loss, but when the post ended with something like “and then we had five healthy babies,” I just couldn’t relate.

There was too much unknown and up in the air for me, and it was all too raw to process.

Then, when I got pregnant again and all seemed to be well, I worried that I somehow missed my window of opportunity to share my story without judgment.

Homecoming Brown FamilyBecause I don’t want to be one of “those people” who says this horrible thing happened, but TA-DA…life’s all sunshine and rainbow babies now so it’s fine.

Truth is, life is really good right now.

And I’m so incredibly thankful for another chance to experience the miracle of pregnancy.

But – as precious as he is – this rainbow baby does NOT diminish the pain of the loss that came before.

I didn’t get that at the time when the wounds were still fresh.

It’s like I thought having (or adopting) healthy kiddos somehow erased the heartache of the loss.

It still happened, it still hurts.

It’s still a LIFE that was here for a flicker, then gone.

I still sobbed before falling asleep the other night when I revisited these photos and tried to tell my husband how I felt that day.

I will never forget the pain I felt on October 29, 2014.

Just like those brave women will never forget the pain they felt.

Those were their stories.

This is my story.

And I’ve finally realized that even while it may trigger different people for different (totally valid, absolutely understandable) reasons, I owe it to myself, to my sisters in heartache, and to my little angels to share it.

The Biggest Lesson

We all experience loss. It’s part of life.

We’re all here for a finite amount of time.

Life is precious at every age and every stage.

From conception to 100 years and beyond, every life deserves to be acknowledged and celebrated.

So this is my acknowledgment. Of my angel babies and of this handsome little guy who, God-willing, will be safe + snuggled in our arms by the end of the year.

This is my story.

If you’ve experienced miscarriage or infant loss, please know that I am so sorry for your loss and your pain.

No matter how long s/he was here in the physical world, that life mattered.

Your story matters.

I acknowledge your heartache.

From the bottom of my heart: Thank you for acknowledging mine.

Here’s to YOU, me, and this crazy, precious thing called life, my friend.

Let’s see what kind of good we can make of it while we’re here.


P.S. Songs like “Overcomer” are great when I need strength, but sometimes I just need a good cry. In the midst of it all, this sweet song “Glory Baby” by Watermark still speaks straight to my hurting heart. Hope it helps you too <3



  1. Lindsay

    Thank you for sharing this part of your life with us. xoxo

  2. Patricia Thompson

    Nikki – What a beautiful post, and I’m so glad you shared it! I really appreciate your willingness to be vulnerable and share what you went through. While all of our challenges might be different, hearing about how you got through the pain is a real inspiration.

    Best of luck with your growing family – and prayers for an easy remaining pregnancy and delivery. Thanks for all you do to teach and inspire others! You’re truly an awesome lady! :-)


    p.s. I remember that Christmas party. You really showed grace under pressure on that one! LOL

  3. Dad

    Your faith and assurance that ALL is in our Lord’s hands is and always has made it such an honor to be your Dad ????????????

    1. Nikki Elledge Brown

      Love you, Pop! And it’s always been an honor to be your #4 :)

  4. Linda

    Thank you for sharing your story. It was not TMI. Very touching and shows that there is always a rainbow after the storm.

  5. Pam

    I am so sorry for your loss. Thank you for sharing your story. You are a brave mama.

  6. Elizabeth

    Beautiful – thank you for sharing your story. It’s certainly helping me, as I’m now pregnant again after my own loss a few months ago. The term ‘rainbow baby’ is so comforting! So many prayers coming your way

    1. Nikki Elledge Brown

      I’m so sorry for your loss, Elizabeth. Praying for you and your rainbow baby :)

  7. Vilma

    You are amazing! I think that sharing this difficult time and the other personal stuff makes you vulnerable and help us relate with Nikki the person, not only the teacher.
    I have never experience that kind of loss but I am a mom of a beautiful 17 year old daughter and I could not imagine my life without her. I have a lot of respect and admiration for you for sharing something so painful just to let people now it’s ok to hurt and to love.
    You have make me cry till the point of sobbing because I felt your pain, your mix feelings and the love. I just wish for you many BLESSINGS in your life because you my friend are a truly inspiration. Xoxo

  8. Michele

    I’m so sorry for your loss. Thanks so much for being so vulnerable. I’m encouraged and inspired by your story.

  9. Jonathan

    This is a beautiful post. So sorry for your loss, but happy that you have been able to share this with the world and move past a very difficult time. My family and I are praying for a strong finish with your current pregnancy.

  10. Judy

    So beautiful, Nikki. Thank you for sharing. Stories of loss are stories of life because we all experience loss as part of being alive here. I am sorry for your loss. And I love how much you love your family and how much you depend on God for comfort. May blessings fall upon you and your family —– and for all of us. Amen.

  11. Tammy K. Johnson

    Wow Nikki! We had no idea, and I truly am so sorry for your loss. You are so brave for sharing your story, being open and vulnerable. I’m believing with you for a healthy and peaceful delivery and that Deacon will arrive safe and sound. So glad you had the courage to share. God will use your story to help encourage and impact women everywhere. Much love to you and your family!

  12. Denise

    Nikki, thank you so much for sharing. Like you said, this is a secret club and you really don’t know who is in it. After the grief of my own loss lessened, I started making a point of being open about my fertility journey and loss. It’s amazing how many women say “me too” and are grateful to know they aren’t alone. Thank you for being another voice out there, and best wishes to your family as you await your new addition!

    1. Nikki Elledge Brown

      Right back at you, sister Denise. Thank you for sharing!

  13. Chris

    Nikki, thank you for sharing your story and no – it was not TMI. I had a chemical pregnancy followed by a full miscarriage at 12 weeks myself, before I had any other children. Every time someone said, “It just wasn’t meant to be,” I wanted to throttle them. It sounded like a canned answer for such a heartbreaking experience. What helped me the most was hearing the stories from a bunch of other people who told me they had a miscarriage, or their wife had one. It helped me feel like I wasn’t a freak of nature who couldn’t carry a baby to term. Of course, I now have 3 beautiful children ages 16, 15, and 11, but at that point I was sure I would never be a Mom.

    You are so right – it doesn’t matter if you are able to have a child again – the one you lost is still one you lost – no matter what.

    I’m so happy that you’re expecting again and I’m sending prayers that he is born happy and healthy. I know he will be very loved!

    1. Nikki Elledge Brown

      Thank you for sharing your story, Chris – and I’m so sorry for your losses!

      I know many mamas will be encouraged to read about the three kiddos who made it to your arms :)

  14. Angela Meer

    As a wife who hasn’t been able to get pregnant, and a business woman who constantly questions if I’m ready to be a mom TOO, this was hope-filled. I feel fuller today having read this.

    1. Nikki Elledge Brown

      Beautiful, Angela – thank you for sharing that <3

  15. Kerstin

    Nikki, you never cease to amaze me. Thank you for sharing your story. I haven’t lost a child but I’ve lost a mama when I was a child. Haven’t been able to even talk about it for 10(!) years or even say the word “Mama”. You inspire me with EVERYTHING you do.

    Thank you for doing what you do and do it so well. Thank you for being human & vulnerable and not afraid to share such a personal story. It’s never TMI with you. I want to know everything. I’m so sorry for your loss. I’m sorry, I didn’t even know you then so I could have said it then. I’m so happy that you’re happy now with a big & gorgeous bump … it suits you so well. ;-)

    Thinking of you.
    K. xx

    1. Nikki Elledge Brown

      Thank you so much for your love + support as always, Kerstin! I’m so sorry for the loss of your mom. Sending you lots of love from our part of the Pacific tonight <3

  16. Alexis

    Wow. This was beautiful. Thank you for sharing your heart and your story with us. Congrats on your baby and sending you loving and healing energy for the one you lost. You are such an incredible inspiration. I appreciate these personal posts. It shows you’re a real human being, going through real life situations, not just an endless amount of “business tips and tricks”. You’re a great example to us all. I admire you for your bravery and wisdom. Thanks again for sharing and wishing you all the best!

    1. Nikki Elledge Brown

      Thank you for the encouragement, Alexis! It’s definitely scary to share such personal stories at times – but at the same time – this is LIFE. And I get one go.

      I don’t want to leave behind a legacy of practical tips without heart and real stories too. (After all, we’re building these businesses to support the LIVES we want to live!)

      I appreciate your comment (and all of the others here!) – see them as divine confirmation that this was the right move :)

  17. Andrew

    Hey Nikki. Thank you. It truly is nice to ‘meet’ you. I’ve only just come across your work (through Amy Ps podcast) and I usually don’t take the time to read any full blog post – much less comment, but your vulnerability here compels me. My wife and I lost a little one about a year ago too. We were at the other end of our family – we already have 5 kids and this one was a ‘surprise’ to say the least. Approaching the big 4-0, I had already ramped up my efforts to improve our financial position in every way I could. I was working longer, training to become a life-coach and trading stocks on the side. When Sofia told me she was pregnant again we both sat in shocked disbelief – saying nothing – trying to compute. The cramps and bleeding came a few weeks later and my emotions swung from “how are we going to cope” to “Oh no, please – no – I didn’t mean to feel that way about you – please stay!!” Everything in life got kind of chaotic around that point. Tough days with the kids at school (I work with at-risk youth) and the stocks were looking shaky, but it was like life was a storm swirling around me and I was just walking through it – numb. The day we went and got the ultrasound I kind of knew how it was going to go. We had lost our number 6 and I couldn’t shake the feeling that it was my fault. Through my coaching work I knew about brain-chemistry and how my reaction and lack of support might have choked off the progesterone my last little baby needed to stick. The same day, when we got home, Gold prices plummets and all my stocks traded out. We lost $15,000 and a child in 24 hours. I literally laid on my face in the dirt that day asking God ‘why?’ We are still recovering, financially and emotionally from that day. It’s kind of weird the money we can get back whilst we’ll never have that baby – but it feels like the opposite is true. The money is gone – but… our little one lives on. I know she is in the care and comfort and company of angels right now and loving us and our family as much as she ever would have down here. I know she will be the first to greet us when we leave this life and go to heaven. I know she knows how much I would have loved her and laid my life down for her. I would have given her my all – with no regrets. I still miss her sometimes (like today reading your post), but just like all my other children – her presence, however short, still compels me to be my best. In that sense she is as much one of my children as all the others.

    1. Nikki Elledge Brown

      Read this with tears in my eyes, Andrew. I’m so sorry for your loss + thank you for sharing your story here!

      I absolutely believe these spirits stick around in their own dimension – just weren’t ready to have this experience in the physical world for any myriad of reasons. I know your little one is there encouraging you to find the lessons in the pain + the inspiration through the tough stuff.

      Glad to “meet” you!

  18. Rebecca Douros

    Thank you for sharing your story…it’s truly so beautiful. You continue to inspire me in so many way…. I look forward to welcoming your bundle of joy to our big ACAC family ;) When you shared your story back in the video post, all I wanted to do was take a little piece of your pain away, so I prayed and I sent you virtual positive thoughts and big hugs….when you shared your AMAZING news you were pregnant, I shed a happy tear and again sent you virtual warm & fuzzy happy thoughts and positive hugs. Each time you exposed us to a little piece of “Nikki’s real life” and what you endured during those months, I found myself counting my blessing and being inspired to always come from a place of gratitude….I never experience such unimagibale pain of loosing a child, yet yesterday I was faced with my worst nightmare, my beautiful, vibrate, 16 year old daughter Lauren, needs to undergo chemotherapy. I am wrapped up in so many unimaginable thoughts and emotions and trying to focused on the 95-99% recover). I want you to know, in my heart, I feel a little piece of you and your strength….thank you for sharing your deepest darkest moments…and thank you for coming from a place of pure authenticity and vulnerability….Lauren and I are going to start a blog to share her journey with the hope we too can inspire others to feel their pain, push through their fears and embrace gratitude every single day! <3

    1. Nikki Elledge Brown

      Wow, Rebecca – this touches my heart. Thank you so much for bravely sharing it.

      I praying for strength + wisdom for you, for Lauren, and for those caring for her throughout this journey.

      I have NO doubt in my mind that the stories and struggles and triumphs you’ll share will inspire so many. What a beautiful ripple effect you will create.

      Hugs from Honolulu, sister <3

  19. Alicia

    Thank you for sharing your story Nikki, it’s beautifully written. While I haven’t experienced this, I thought I was during a rough spot in my pregnancy last year. My heart goes out to you, and I feel for your loss. Your family is beautiful and I love the photos you shared. Praying and wishing you all the best in these last few weeks of this pregnancy.

  20. Sandra

    Thank you for this. We are definitely part of the secret sisterhood nobody wants to be part of… as I read your blog I whispered “me too..” as the tears came. It’s amazing to me how fresh and raw the pain is after 21 years. I had a beautiful daughter with no issue and felt it would be just as simple to have #2, never anticipating the anguish and heartbreak to come. I lost my next 3 babies over 2 years, all between 13 and 16 weeks, so I was showing and publicly pregnant. We were also military and dealing with deployments and it all just overcame me. I became obsessed with having a baby and with each miscarriage I lost more of me. Your story opened up a bit of my heart which I’ve closed off , and today I cried and mourned for the babies I never got to hold. Thank you for sharing and allowing me to heal a little more.
    My rainbow child is now 19 and thoroughly enjoying her sophomore year at college. I had a surprise baby after my rainbow girl, and she’s happy and about to take on the world as well. Life goes on and we survive, finding a way to tuck our lost babies away… never forgetting but needing to go on. I know my babies ar

    e still with me in spirit and I take comfort in that. In this Sisterhood we need to love and support each other, standing strong for each as one is broken, knowing that we each take turns bleeding and raw, as the others stand guard over us… we must, as no one knows the heartbreak as we do. Thank you for sharing your powerful story and allowing us to cry and heal. God bless your babies, sweet friend. <3 <3 <3

    1. Nikki Elledge Brown

      I’m so sorry for your losses, Sandra – and so happy you’ve had the chance to do life with two beautiful daughters. Thank you for sharing all of the above. Divine confirmation that sharing my own story was the right choice <3

  21. Maru

    Thank you Nikki for sharing this, really touched me. I never thought of a vision board for pregnancy…very interesting ! Sending you tons of love and you are amazing + strong muaxxx

  22. Trish Jones

    You made me cry, you made me laugh and now I celebrate with you. Such an inspiring story. Thank you for sharing your heart with us. I look forward to seeing your bundle of joy. God bless. x

  23. Denise

    Nikki, your story took me back in time to my own experience with loss. It was our first attempt at pregnancy and my husband and I were thrilled! Only to find out a week later we would not be parents. I was furious! As a teacher at a high school I had students coming up to me telling me they were pregnant, and I would go home and cry. How could these teenagers have a baby when I couldn’t? It was 9 long months before we were able to conceive. After finding out this news my husband was also shipped out for 6 months. It was a trying time while he was away, but the look on his face was priceless when he returned to see how much my bump had grown. The size change from 8 weeks to 32 weeks is huge! Our first Rainbow Girl is now 10 and the most empathetic person I know. After a year we thought we would be ready to expand our family again, only to be faced with 2 more losses. I now felt devastated. I was especially upset since close family and friends were having healthy pregnancies. After 2 more years we finally welcomed our second Rainbow Girl into our lives. She is now 7 and the most independent soul. Although it is difficult being part of this Sisterhood, the bond is like no other. I feel truly blessed and grateful to have two healthy girls. Thank you for sharing your story and giving all of us with this loss a place to grieve. I pray that you have a healthy and happy finale.

    1. Nikki Elledge Brown

      Thank you so much for sharing, Denise – so sorry for your losses and so happy for your two rainbow girls <3

  24. Marsha from YesYesMarsha.com

    Thanks for making me cry. Then laugh. Then cry again. Then laugh again. Then cry again. Then wish I could reach into my screen and give you an enormo-hug.

    xxxxx xxxxx xxxxxx

  25. Rachel Hostetler

    Love this! My first daughter is a “rainbow baby” — i love that! Def need to start calling her that.

    My first pregnancy was a miscarriage. I’m glad you mention that it was contractions. I remember being in so much pain and my mother in law thought I was exaggerating the pain (as I was curled up in a ball on the bathroom floor crying). It is nice to know I’m not alone!

  26. Jessica

    The same exact thing happened to me – we lost a girl to tripolidy 69XXX on October 30,2014. I needed this story so much today. Thank you so much for writing this beautiful message and for making it available online where a complete stranger really needed to read it today. Sending you lots of love

    1. Nikki Elledge Brown

      Sending you love right back, Jessica – I’m so sorry for you loss! Our angel babies must be buddies – making their journeys just one day apart <3

  27. Alexa

    I didn’t expect to find this post here, but I”m so glad you shared it. I lost a 2 day old infant and I have spent hours and hours of my life since then talking to and trying to help other grieving mothers. I’m glad you wrote about it. It’s healing, it’s releasing, and you certainly know you are NOT alone. Hugs and love to you and I’m so happy about your rainbow.

  28. Angie Scheie

    Thank you for sharing your I Nikki. I read it with teas streaming down my face because the only time we have ever been able to conceive it ended in a similar fashion a couple of months after yours. It’s truly awful. My heart wants to do a vision board like yours but it just hurts. Then I wonder if my fear is bigger than my faith. Infertility is a hard, hard journey. But as we enter into the IVF phase this year I will take those songs and encouragement to heart. Thank you so much for sharing!

    1. Nikki Elledge Brown

      Thank you for sharing this part of your story, Angie – sending you so much love <3

  29. Crystalee

    Nikki, I have discovered (and fell in love!) with you in the past couple weeks. You teach me so much. You and I are in similar stages of life (I turned 30 this year) and we have such similar passions: Words, family, faith, entrepreneurship … and I learned in this post we both had chemical pregnancies + sons named Bryson! What are the odds?! I sincerely look forward to meeting you in person someday. It’s only a matter of time. God bless you and all the good you are doing.



    1. Nikki Elledge Brown

      Thank you for the love, Crystalee! Great to e-meet you :)

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