We had worked so hard. We’d gone to the doctor. We’d practiced – a lot. And, here we were, at long last, pregnant. I was 40 years old. I was certain that everything would be just fine. I couldn’t hold it in. I couldn’t wait until I was 12 weeks along and in the “safe zone.” The moment I heard that beautiful rhythmic heartbeat I had to share the news. I would document the beauty of being pregnant and older than your average pregnant woman. And then my pregnancy took a turn, a turn that broke my heart and my spirit, and devastated my soul. As a society we don’t know how to deal with the intensity of grief that losing a pregnancy, a dream, a child, brings. We don’t talk about it and so we don’t heal. Here is my story and the story of my family. May it help you on whatever journey of healing you may be on.