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Hollie, Thanks for sharing your story. I’m so sorry that you had to be so alone during your pregnancies and times of loss. I’m so glad you and your husband were able to name Allison. Much love, Rachel
 
 
Hello my name is Hollie and I have miscarried twice now both in the first trimester at two months. I named the oldest Xander and the youngest Alison.
 
The first time I got pregnant I was 15 and had been dating my boyfriend at the time for two years. We had thought it was true love and even said we were engaged. One night I somehow got my mom to let me stay at his house past curfew and that’s all it took. His mom wasn’t there and his brother and his girlfriend had gone to the store. Perfect formula for a teenage screw up.
 
I found out I was pregnant two weeks later. I was scared and didn’t know what to do and didn’t want to tell anyone. I only told him because he insisted I was sick when I wouldn’t look him in the eyes and kept wanting to throw up from anxiety. He agreed that we shouldn’t tell anyone yet.
 
After another week his best friend found out and told us to go to the doctor to at least know if it was in fact a pregnancy and not a bad test or whatever. It only confirmed it. I did love this child, however, and I planned to be a mom and he planned to be a dad. A little past the two month mark however we weren’t as close as before and he decided it was time to end it. He called while I was bent over in pain.
 
Within the hour of breaking up, I started bleeding and felt horrible pains. My dad took me to the hospital, though he never went into the back with me. I spent hours there in pain, refusing medication and refusing to let my dad come back once he wanted to. I begged the doctor not to tell my dad and if he did or not I don’t know, my dad never asked and never spoke of it.  I stayed out of school for a week with bleeding and cramps, I told my mom it was just my period which often kept me from school.
 
I didn’t tell the father until a month later when he finally called me asking what we should do about the baby. I told him he was free and that he didn’t have to call me anymore. His response: “I never wanted to be free. I wanted to be a daddy, and knowing I won’t be is my biggest regret.” We named our baby Xander, the second half of his daddy’s name. 

Years passed and I found a new love, my husband today. At only a few months of dating we jumped off the big step. We thought it’d be fine however because I had gotten the Mirena put in a few weeks before. He was a freshmen in college at the time and I was a high school senior. We both worked part-time at Toys’R’Us and were in clubs and sports.
 
For one week in October I had cramps and spotting. I thought nothing of it since I was told my periods could be off for the first few months of having the IUD in. However at the end of that week while I was working night shift I started having intense pain, worse than the rest of the week. I ran to the bathroom and was in there for an hour, none of my co-workers decided to check on me.
 
When I was finally able to stand and look at the toilet I was in shock. It looked just the same as when I miscarried Xander. At first I thought I was just seeing things and that I couldn’t have been pregnant because of the IUD and because it just didn’t make sense. I don’t know if I was trying to validate that it wasn’t real or if I’m just twisted but I reached into the toilet and scooped up the fetus. That was my baby. A little piece of me and my love gone… again. I cried for a little but then I realized I was still at work.   

I wrapped the fetus in some paper towels and cleaned up the best I could. I went to the employee lounge, still cramping and bleeding and dumped out my dinner from a plastic container and placed the baby in it. My boss found me there. I told him what happened and asked to go to the hospital or at least call my love to get picked up and go home, but he didn’t let me. He said if I was okay enough to stand and talk to him I was okay enough to finish working. I had no car and was in too much pain to walk. So instead I left my baby in my locker and sat there crying at the register for another two hours before we closed and I was able to sit outside and wait to be picked up.
 
My boss left me at the store and went home. When my love got there I had bleed through my pants and had a small puddle under me. I also had the container pressed against my chest. I spent the next two days in the hospital and was fired for calling out those two days. We never told either of our family except for his little sister a year later. 

I tried forgetting both babies, and even refused to name my second baby. I didn’t want to think that I wasn’t strong enough to have them. However on Easter when I was trying to make my niece’s day perfect and couldn’t I broke down. I told my husband that all I wanted was to spoil my niece rotten because I can’t do the same for my babies. And that no matter how hard I tried I couldn’t forget them.
 
 I asked him to name our child and asked him what he thought it would have been. He came up with Alison for the perfect baby girl he knew was watching over us with her big brother.
 
I am a mother of two. And though I’m now only 21 and they passed years ago they are still my whole world. I regret not telling anyone and not allowing my family to know who my children were. I don’t have any pictures of them or mementos or anything more than memories, but I wouldn’t trade those memories for anything in the world. 
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