Our baby existed
"I remember the day we lost the baby like it split our lives in two: before and after.
We had prayed, planned, budgeted, waited. Chosen a donor with care, done the IUIs, then IVF. I was the one who carried. My wife held my hand through every appointment. We heard the heartbeat. We told our parents. We imagined a brit milah or a baby naming, printed Hebrew letters in our heads onto onesies.
And then, one morning, there was blood.
And just like that, the future we had started building fell out from under us.
There’s something excruciating about pregnancy loss when you’re in a queer partnership. It already took so much—science, strategy, vulnerability—to even get this far. And when it’s gone, you don’t just lose the baby. You lose time. Money. Energy. Hope.
We sat shiva for the idea of our child, in our own quiet way. No one brought food. Most didn’t know what to say. And some didn’t even understand we’d lost a real pregnancy—because, somehow, in their minds, queer families still feel 'optional' or 'experimental.'
The world wasn’t built for this kind of loss—not for two moms grieving the same baby, not for queer families where people still ask whose 'real' child it was.
But we knew our baby was real.
Our baby existed.
And we still remember."
-anonymous
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Thank you to this family for sharing the story of their daughter.