A year ago today, I sat in a doctor’s office with my husband — scared, hopeful, and already in love with the tiny life we’d just found out about the day before. Then the bleeding started. Then the words came:

“I’m sorry, you’re having a miscarriage.”

What followed was a journey I never expected — one filled with confusion, heartbreak, moments of hope, and waves of loss that still crash over me when I least expect them.

This week marks one year since that day. And while I’m now weeks away from welcoming our baby boy into the world, I’ve felt the weight of this anniversary more deeply than I anticipated.

Grief is strange like that. It doesn’t come in a straight line. And it often shows up wrapped in unexpected emotions. But if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s this: grief and joy can — and do — coexist.

This is the story of how we held both.