When the nerves 3dp5dt makes you feel like your heart is going to pound out of your chest, you will be okay.

When you can’t sleep at night, wondering if your embaby is snuggled in tight, you will be okay.

When you convince yourself over and over not to POAS, you will be okay.

When you do finally POAS, in the middle of the night eight hours before your beta, you will be okay.

When you’re waiting for the results, you will be okay.

When you’re squinting under the light to see if there is any hint of a second line, you will be okay.

When you’re dipping your fourth home pregnancy test into your urine sample at 1am, you will be okay.

When all four tests come back negative, you will be okay.

When you prepare your last pre-beta PIO shot, knowing there’s likely no baby to nurture in your uterus, you will be okay.

When you get your blood drawn for your beta, and it takes three sticks, you will be okay.

When you sit on a bench with your husband outside the clinic and cry, you will be okay.

When you wait in agony for the phone call you don’t actually want to get, you will be okay.

When you get the call, you will be okay.

When you have to hear the words “Im so sorry, you’re no longer pregnant” you will be okay.

When it hurts like absolute hell, you will be okay.

When you feel an overwhelming need to protect your womb until your embaby finds its way out, you will be okay.

When you feel an overwhelming need to grieve, you will be okay.

When you begin to bleed, you will be okay.

When the bleeding is different than anything you’ve ever experienced and makes your heart ache, you will be okay.

When you realize you’re feeling the physical loss of what could have been, you will be okay.

When you decided to talk about your pain, your sadness, your grief, you will be okay.

You will be okay.

You will be okay.

You will be okay.