We never planned to take our little boy to Disney World during his toddler years. The idea was to wait until he was around 4 or 5, when he would have the energy to fully enjoy everything the park had to offer. However, an unexpected business trip to Orlando changed our plans—a complimentary flight for me, a free ticket for my son who could sit on my lap, and no admission fee for Disney since he was under 2. Given our son’s recent excitement about Mickey Mouse and the gang, we decided to book a four-night stay and spend three magical days at the happiest place on Earth.
Just days before our departure, I discovered I was pregnant. The baby was due in November—perfectly timed to be two and a half years younger than our son. We set off for Orlando as a family of four, one child nestled on my lap and another growing inside me. Our hearts were filled with anticipation for the trip and the future.
Upon arrival, we checked into our hotel and made our way to Downtown Disney, where our son’s sheer joy at seeing Mickey and friends was infectious. We looked forward to a day filled with cherished memories at the Magic Kingdom.
Then, the next morning, everything changed. As I awoke and made my way to the bathroom, it became painfully clear that something was terribly wrong. No, no, no—this couldn’t be happening.
I crawled back into bed, my heart heavy, and told my husband, Mark, through tears that I was bleeding. It took him a moment to grasp the gravity of the situation, and when he did, he asked softly, “What does this mean?”
“It likely means I’m not pregnant anymore,” I whispered, tears streaming down my face.
When our son, Lucas, woke up shortly after, we felt uncertain about how to proceed. We decided to carry on with our plans and headed to the Magic Kingdom. I left a message for my doctor back home, outlining what had happened. Amidst the rides and character meet-and-greets, Lucas was radiant, and his happiness provided a small distraction from the emotional turmoil.
As Lucas dozed in his stroller, my phone rang with my doctor’s office on the line. I explained that we were on vacation, and the compassionate nurse advised me to get to a hospital for a RhoGAM shot as soon as possible. We returned to our hotel, where Mark and I agreed it was best for him to stay behind with Lucas so he could nap and enjoy the hotel amenities, while I went to the hospital.
With a brave face, I climbed into the cab, and as we approached the hospital, the driver asked, “You visiting someone?”
I shook my head. “The ER, please.”
He glanced at me in the rearview mirror. “Are you alright?”
“No. Yes, thanks,” I replied, my voice trembling. “Just need to get checked out.”
The hospital felt oddly inviting; bright, clean, and aromatic with coconut. As I checked in, tears began to flow. The nurse reassured me, advising me not to worry until they had more information, as some women experience spotting during pregnancy. But deep down, I already understood the reality.
After undergoing an ultrasound, blood tests, and an internal exam, the doctor gently informed me that it appeared I was likely miscarrying. I returned to the hotel heartbroken yet determined to focus on my son. I showered, applied makeup to conceal my swollen eyes, and rallied my family for an evening at the Magic Kingdom.
Throughout the rest of the trip, I managed to engage in the festivities, saving my tears for the quiet moments after Lucas fell asleep and during the dark bus ride back from the parks. Silent tears streamed down my face as he rested on my shoulder, and Mark squeezed my hand reassuringly.
I ultimately decided against the business trip, fearing I would struggle without my family by my side and eager to return home to see my doctor. We returned together, once again a family of three, having briefly held the hope of becoming a family of four. I cherished my little family, reveling in Lucas’s laughter and joy, grateful for his presence, and seeking comfort under Mark’s protective arm.
Through this ordeal, I discovered a resilience I didn’t know I possessed. I learned to keep living even when I wanted to hide, to find laughter amidst my grief, and to seek joy despite my heartache. I am not alone in this struggle—countless women experience miscarriage daily, yet they continue to embrace their roles as mothers, wives, sisters, and daughters. They rise each day, dress themselves, and confront the world, even with broken hearts.
While I would give anything to have my November baby back, I am grateful for the strength I have found within myself.
If you are navigating a similar journey, you may find inspiration and support in the reflection shared by experts on motherhood here. For additional resources on family planning and home insemination, consider checking out this informative post on intrauterine insemination.
Summary:
In this heartfelt narrative, Jenna shares her experience of having a miscarriage while on vacation at Disney World with her family. Initially filled with joy at the prospect of expanding their family, the trip takes a heartbreaking turn when Jenna experiences complications. Despite her grief, she finds the strength to support her son and maintain a semblance of normalcy during their magical visit. Through her struggles, she discovers resilience and acknowledges the shared experiences of countless women who have faced similar challenges.