Hiding From Pregnancy :: Hope Over Fear

I’m pregnant. Like I’m staring down the 20-week milestone, and I think I’ve shared the information with a handful of actual people. I promise it’s not for lack of excitement about a new baby. But being pregnant after miscarriage{s} and feet soaking in infertility just isn’t instantly exciting to me.

At this point, a positive pregnancy test just means nothing to me but the fear of hope {and I’m a super positive person – I promise!}. I’ve actually done this rainbow baby thing already; you’d think I wouldn’t feel so anxious and and full of pregnancy fear. The most mama-loving, 2-year-old boy cuddles himself up to me nightly, and I tell him all the special things I love about him and remind him that he’s my rainbow baby boy. Double rainbows landing in my lap, do I dare hope to get that lucky?

I spent the past year+ reconciling my mind to the fact that another baby wasn’t in the cards for us, and each month as a piece of my heart broke and hit the floor, my mind would get just a touch closer to acceptance and closure. And then the best surprise snuck up on me when I wasn’t even paying attention {of course!}, and I’m trying to assemble all those little broken pieces I let go. You know…in the midst of trying to have it all.

Week by week, will it come together?

This baby will hopefully be my third child in 5 years, which from the outside doesn’t look much like someone who has felt a huge struggle. If you know me, you understand that my realizations of what I’ve been given are never taken for granted. I have collected so many friends caught in the trenches on this journey, and I know while they might be thrilled for me, they are still wishing it was them. And I know what that feels like and don’t want to wish that pain on anyone. Can I prolong those feelings for those waiting forever?

I know I’ll get there. Each test, each ultrasound, each baby step gets me a little closer, but for now I’m not going to beat myself up for my feelings. I am going to try my darnedest to let hope outweigh the fear. And those handful of people that know how to keep my heart safe, I’ll just keep letting them remind me that this is real and happening and maybe…just maybe…we can discuss baby names.

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Sarah, a New Orleans native, transplanted to Houston after Hurricane Katrina and has never looked back. Mom to big sister Maggie {Aug 2011} who keeps her on her toes, the most adorable little brother Jack {Nov 2013}, and one final addition arriving in August 2016! Sarah is constantly striving to have it all as she juggles working on the managerial and operational end of the healthcare industry, planning adventurous weekends to explore all Houston has to offer with her husband and kids, and keeping up with friends and family. You can follow along with Sarah’s daily life on Instagram at @sarahschnure.


  1. I understand this fear. After our daughter we had 5 miscarriages(2 second trimester) in 4 years. I had finally accepted that we would only have our 2(I had a daughter from a previous relationship). I found myself pregnant again after a horrible attempt at birth control and Myrena. For 18 weeks I saw either my OB or my midwife(who is one of my very best friends) Finally at 24 weeks I was able to breath. It still didn’t sink in until around the last month and there were still frantic trips to the OB or to my midwife’s office to get an ultrasound or hear her heartbeat because I hadn’t felt her move. But on Oct 20, 2013(the day after her daddy’s birthday) she arrived. Her name is Hope. And as my 5 yr old at the time said “she was meant to be momma because God gives us Hope”


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