"How are you doing?"

"How are you doing?" It's a simple question we ask each other everyday. It is almost always asked in passing and answered with a simple, "Good" or "Great, thanks!" It's an effortless pleasantry that is easy to answer... until it isn't. What if you're not doing "great" or even "good"?

You see, I had a miscarriage last week and, even now, I am doing neither "great" nor "good." But people don't want/expect a long, in-depth answer when they ask you, "How are you doing?" so I just say, "okay." And I really am. I am okay. Or, at least, I know I will be.

I miscarried early in my pregnancy at 7 weeks and had only told three people in the whole world that I was pregnant. Zach- because obviously. My mom- because we stumbled into it in a conversation about taking "the strongest cold medicine you can find and knocking yourself out" during a delightful bout of pink eye I had a few weeks ago. And my sister, Lindsey- only because Zach left his wallet on our dresser when we left for our cruise and Lindsey went to our house to pick it up for us. Sitting on the dresser was my positive pregnancy test.

I've always been one to wait to announce my pregnancies and when it does come time to announce I am almost always awkward about it. I don't love the attention and I never really know what to say. To announce my very first pregnancy to my mom I sent her a card. Like a paper card. Through the mail. And she didn't even "get it" when she read it. My little sister had to tell her what it meant. Like I said, I'm awkward.

I always heard it was best to wait to announce a pregnancy because the first few weeks of pregnancy are delicate and you could, you know, have a miscarriage. But I have found that not telling anyone you are pregnant does not make having a miscarriage any easier- it just makes it lonelier.

Aside from feeling my Savior's love through prayer, I found my greatest comfort those first few days in friends who had been open in sharing their miscarriages. I didn't necessarily reach out to all of them, but I was comforted as I recalled/reread their experiences. My hope in sharing my story is that I can maybe offer some comfort to someone who is going through/ will go through something similar. I will tell you this: it sucks.

When I first realized I was losing this pregnancy I thought I would just soldier on like nothing happened. I texted my mom and my sister and thought I'd tied up all the loose ends and could move forward as per usual. It was early enough that I didn't need to go to the doctor and the bleeding was similar to a normal period- so I figured I would just treat it as such. This was such a bad idea and it did not even come close to working. For me, sharing and talking about it with a few close friends helped me sort through my feelings and process what I was going through- something I'm still working on.

I noticed some light pink #TMI #sorrynotsorry on Friday afternoon and I freaked out. I was, however, able to Google myself into a false sense of security. "It's normal in early pregnancy," I read on several forums. "As long as there is no cramping or bright red, you're fine," they said. I took a pregnancy test that night and it was very positive. I went to bed that night feeling reassured.

By Saturday afternoon there was cramping and bright red and my heart sank. We had already planned to go on a date that night so I sucked it up and moved forward with our plans. Our good friends, the Andersons, took the kids while we went to do a session at the temple. I needed the peace and comfort that comes from being in the temple (good) but it also left me alone with my thoughts for two hours straight (bad). As the session progressed I became more and more convinced that I was, indeed, losing my pregnancy. I cried. Have you ever audibly sobbed in a room full of silent people? It's not fun. The sweet lady sitting next to me offered a tissue. She asked if I was alright but how do you even begin to explain what you're going through to a complete stranger in the middle of a temple service. I told her I was fine.

I was relieved when the session was over and we could head out to dinner. I held it together through dinner and picking up the kids and then I went home and cried. Hard. It felt good to finally be able to cry without holding back the tears. I'm sure my kids were very confused. Zach bathed them and got them ready for bed. He wins all the things. To say I cried myself to sleep would imply that sleep was an option. I couldn't sleep and I got to the point where I couldn't cry anymore either. It was a long night.

I wasn't sure if I would make it to church the next day. I didn't want a repeat of the night before. I had had my fill of crying in front of random people. I hate crying. When Sunday morning came and Brady woke me up asking me why I wasn't going to church though, I decided to get up and ready and join my family at church. Zach offered to teach our primary class for me and I just got to handle crowd control. After church we had my family over for dinner to celebrate my brother in law, Rick's, birthday. It was a great distraction. Sunday was a good day. I got to pretend like everything was okay and it worked- but I soon found out that you can only pretend away feelings of grief for so long.

Monday morning Zach left for San Francisco. I promised him I'd be fine and I'd "save all my crying for when he got back." The boys had dentist appointments in the morning and then we met up with our friends, the Smiths, for an impromptu lunch at a park. After lunch, it was time to go home. Camden and Brady fell asleep on the way home and went straight down for naps. Ryan retreated to the basement to play video games. I wanted to be productive during nap time but I was physically exhausted from the morning's activities. It was impossible to ignore the fact that my body was in distress. I could also no longer ignore my feelings of loss and general suckiness. When I texted my sister on Saturday she insisted on helping in any way she could and said it again on Sunday as she was leaving my house after dinner. I texted her for help. She was my angel that night. Without hesitation she came up and took my boys to McDonalds for dinner and then to a park until bedtime. Meanwhile, I went to bed and tried to sleep but mostly just cried some more. Luckily I had leftovers from my date on Saturday so I ate those for dinner. My sister brought the boys back just in time to get them changed into pajamas and off to bed. And then!? Then she stayed with me until after 11pm and let me talk and cry and laugh with her until I was ready to sleep. She left with a hug and a few tears and I went straight to bed- falling asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow. Her visit was one of my biggest blessings in all of this.

About an hour after going to bed Camden woke up crying. This was unusual for him. I went upstairs and held him. I rocked him back to sleep and he snuggled into me in a way he hadn't done since he was a baby. We stayed that way for a long time and I felt peaceful for the first time in days. I recognized that moment as a tender mercy from my Heavenly Father. I felt His love for me as I held my littlest boy and tried to soak in every second of our sweet little sleepy cuddlefest. I finally put him back to bed and he stayed asleep for the rest of the night.

One of the best things I did on Monday was text my friend Holly (who I had met for lunch earlier in the day) and tell her about what I was going through. I hesitated to share my news with anyone because miscarriages are sad and depressing and it's much more fun to be happy. I didn't want to burden anyone else with my sadness. Holly was another one of my angels through this experience. She offered words of comfort that I needed to hear and it was therapeutic and validating to share my grief with one of my very best friends. And of course she swooped in and saved my next day- inviting me to hang out with her Tuesday morning and to come to dinner Tuesday night before Zach got home from his business trip.

I confided in my friend, Loraleigh, who had watched my kids Saturday night later that week. She is another one of my best friends and her support and love helped me through those first few days as well. Also, she brought me chocolate. Best. Friend. Ever.

As time goes on I can feel myself healing. But I am constantly reminded of why they say grief is a process. By the end of last week I was feeling much better physically. For some reason I thought that once I was back to normal physically that I would magically feel all better emotionally. For most of the day that is true but every now and then it pops up and surprises me. I find a lot of peace in my testimony of the Atonement and of Eternal Families. I find my greatest comfort in my relationship with Jesus Christ. I have been able to feel my Heavenly Father's love for me stronger and recognized my dependence on my Savior more through this experience than I ever have before.

I mentioned earlier in my post that going through something like losing a pregnancy "sucks" and it does, but it also makes you stronger, it makes you look at your children differently- you appreciate them more and, for me, it has strengthened my marriage and my relationship with Jesus Christ. I have more faith in God's plan for me and my family. I have been humbled to watch the women in my life mourn with me and selflessly help me when I needed it most. I am grateful for their example and I hope that I can do the same for them if they are ever in need.

I listened to a talk by President Uchtdorf, Grateful in Any Circumstances the day after I found out I was having a miscarriage. It has always been one of my favorites and I had listened to it many times before but after going through a trial like this I listened to it with a new understanding. In the talk he says:

"We can choose to be grateful, no matter what.

This type of gratitude transcends whatever is happening around us. It surpasses disappointment, discouragement, and despair. It blooms just as beautifully in the icy landscape of winter as it does in the pleasant warmth of summer.

When we are grateful to God in our circumstances, we can experience gentle peace in the midst of tribulation. In grief, we can still lift up our hearts in praise. In pain, we can glory in Christ’s Atonement. In the cold of bitter sorrow, we can experience the closeness and warmth of heaven’s embrace."

Throughout this heartbreaking experience, I have felt the gentle peace that he talks about. My eyes have been opened to a new sense of gratitude. I am grateful for my family and friends, my children, my husband and for the Gospel that gives me the hope and understanding I need to get through this and other trials I'm sure I will face in the future. Even though I don't know what the future holds for  our family I know that if I put my trust in God things will work out how they are supposed to. And I will "choose to be grateful, no matter what."