I Prayed for a Child and Promised to Adopt a Baby—17 Years Later, That Promise Almost Broke Us

We lost five babies.Each miscarriage felt like a funeral no one else could see. I learned how to smile through baby showers, how to congratulate friends while my chest burned, how to quietly pack away tiny onesies I had bought too soon.

My husband never blamed me. He held my hand through every loss. But I saw it—the flicker of fear in his eyes whenever I said, “Maybe next time.” As if he was afraid to hope anymore.

After the fifth loss, I broke.

I sat on the cold bathroom floor, my back against the tub, my body empty once again. And for the first time in my life, I prayed out loud.

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