The B(e)aring All Project by Jessica Wright Weinstock
“YOU are the Creator of your own Destiny”
“Positive Mind, Positive Vibes, Positive Pregnancy”
“Expect to Expect!”
These phrases that one might see on a coffee mug in a fertility office or on a poster in a guidance counselor’s office give the illusion that we have control over our lives. And while I wasn’t completely delusional or naive in thinking I was omnipotent; it took me almost a decade of trying to grow my family for my stubborn self to get the memo in the deepest of ways. We. Are. Not. In. Control.
As I lay on the exam table, 13 weeks pregnant, I saw the look in the lab tech’s eyes as she called out measurements to the perinatologist. It was soon confirmed; our baby was at risk and we needed further testing. We counseled with geneticists and specialists and learned of probabilities and read a lot of statistics over the course of a week of sleepless nights.
We chose to terminate that pregnancy at 14 weeks; a choice made from the deepest love.
6 months later, 13 weeks pregnant again, I lay on the same exam table. I saw the same look in the lab tech’s eyes. My heart sank.
We spent the next month testing and getting opinions from as many doctors and specialists with whom we could make appointments. We dove deeper into medical journals and stats and slept even less and less. In short, weighing the risks of bringing a child into this world who would more than likely suffer if he even made it earthside alive, became our full-time job.
I spent that month with my baby in my body as mindfully as I could. I sang to him and took him to the beach and ate a variety of foods for him to experience. I talked to him and I wrote him letters. I soaked up every moment that we had together.
And after a month of research, we chose to terminate that pregnancy at 18 weeks. Another heart-wrenching choice. Made out of the deepest of love for our son.
Many months later, I got pregnant again and was able to carry to term this time. We hired a doula and created a birth plan that included a supportive playlist and aromatherapy and the coziest hospital vibes I could create in, well, a hospital. My doctor all but laughed at the plan. I found it dismissive and patronizing at the time. In hindsight, I now realize, he knew better.
Fast forward to the 38th week of pregnancy; our doula quit due to an unforeseen family emergency and I went into labor 48 hours later. After laboring for 24 hours, our healthy son was born via emergency C-section, under the florescent lights of an operating table with the most god awful top forty songs humming in the background. Not cozy. And nothing like I had planned.
3 years later, my husband and I wanted to give our son a sibling. I coordinated possible conception with compatible astrology signs (no Scorpios for these Taurus/Virgo parents!) Over the course of one year, I got pregnant twice and miscarried twice. And then for another year and half didn’t get pregnant at all.
After one round with IVF, we had one viable embryo and he stuck! And while I went to each ultrasound appointment with obvious anxiety, waiting for the other shoe to drop, I had made it past the 20-week scan. Things were feeling typical and ordinary and I finally allowed myself some relief and joy.
And then my water broke at 30 weeks.
I drove myself to the hospital, leaving my car and wet seat with valet. After confirmation that it was a complete rupture, doctors made it clear we had one goal- and that was to get 34 weeks while in the Maternal Fetal Care Unit. One day at a time- for a month. That was the plan. Those days are now a haze in my memory. There were magnesium doses that caused my body to feel like it was on fire, leg compressors that caused full-body shakes, chills that required heat packs, hot flashes while the thermostat was set to 55 degrees, antibiotics, steroid shots, beeping machines, IVs, morning visits with my husband and son, after -school visits with my husband and son, evening visits with my husband and son, incredible nurse care, bad salty hospital food, visits with friends and family, crystals because why not, beeping machines, visits with therapy dogs, visits with a rabbi chaplain who had seven kids, visits with a social worker, more beeping machines, deep levels of panic attacks, a hospital pedicure and a total existential crisis. There were nights where I was unsure either of us was going to make it out alive.
I zeroed in on the sound of my baby’s heartbeat on the monitor; it was the soundtrack that got me through those nine days and those eight very dark and scary nights.
But on night nine, as much as I tried to ignore it and as much as I tried to deny it…and as much as I tried to control it- the contractions sped up. The nurses told me that I could no longer keep my baby in my body safely. Emergency C-section was scheduled for 7am.
I had to lean in. I literally leaned into the nurse. And then she apologetically told me her shift was ending at 7am. My husband arrived in the operating room along with what felt like the entire NICU department.
I tried to weigh my options. Did I have any options? Did I have any control here? Was there any possible way, I could just not do this right now? Keep him in my body? Like forever? But, like so many times over the near decade, I was not in the driver seat. It was time.
In a semi-drugged, partially-physically numbed stupor, I got to see our baby’s 4lb 4oz body at a distance before they whisked him away to do hours of preemie stabilizing treatments.
Five hours later, I was lucid, I could feel my legs again and our son was stable. My husband wheeled me up the NICU to meet our baby in his incubator. I was able put my arm through the plastic window on the side of his temporary home, navigating wire after wire that was attached to his tiny breathing body. I put my hand on his belly.
He was perfect.
The next evening, a very compassionate nurse let me do skin to skin in the NICU. As his doll sized body rested on my chest, I felt his tiny, but strong heart, beat on mine, the heartbeat that had been my solace. In that moment, I finally allowed myself to surrender. He was here. On me. Alive. Not how I planned. Not when I planned. And not where I planned. Emotion flooded me and my body as I held him. It was otherworldly. And I finally understood. We are not in control.
Clearly, the last ten years have literally been defined for me by life and death. On repeat.
And my husband and I survived. But it wasn’t without a tremendous amount of personal work-both internal and external.
As I searched for my wide range of experiences to be mirrored in some way in storytelling, I only found medical journals filled with dry stats, some random online message boards or a few memoirs that didn’t reflect my experience.
While I was navigating this infertility, life and death, my closest friend- a friend since high school and co-founder of The B(e)aring All Project- Stacy Bernstein, stood by my side, effortlessly pregnant. She had her beautiful babies that of course she wanted to share with me. I received photographs and milestone updates while holding back tears-suppressing juxtaposed feelings of grief and joy, gratitude and envy. Stacy experienced the same sort of conflicting feelings-wanting to share the excitement about the early stages of parenthood but was riddled with guilt and sadness as she watched me struggle. We spent lunches sitting side by side at counters at cafes, not knowing what to say or how to even engage in real eye contact with one another as we both were in foreign terrain, independently and in our friendship. And our friendship survived. But not without reflection, from both of our very independent and drastically different experiences.
A decade and five children between the two of us later, the B(e)aring All Project was born; a website and space dedicated to the collection of personal essays and a project very close to our hearts. Inspired by authentic and candid conversations, our goal is to help create a community that will bring support to those navigating the often isolating and stigmatizing path to parenthood. The B(e)aring All Project launched in the Summer of 2020 and within less than one year, many people from around the world have contributed stories about their beautiful, poignant, and often complicated journeys to parenthood. We quickly realized we could make the project that I had needed over the years: an inclusive collection of personal essays by writers from around the world who are courageous enough to expose the hopes, fears, struggles, losses and victories that have shaped their journey to parenthood: those who have struggled with fertility, those who have had miscarriages, those who have had abortions, those who have adopted, those who have undergone IVF, those who have sought egg donors/sperm donors, those who have had stillbirths and those without children.
We are hoping to support the cultural shift around all things pregnancy and fertility related by giving voice and face to these experiences that have long been relegated to the shadows.
It’s time.
Jessica Wright Weinstock, co -founder of The B(e)aring All Project
We’re looking to include as many voices as we can to the conversation. Email us to submit your story and follow along @thebearingallproject on Instagram
Jessica Wright Weinstock is a writer, mother and co-founder of The B(e)aring All Project. Jessica has always been drawn to storytelling; prior to writing pieces about her road to motherhood, she was an actress who performed in theater and television. Inspired by authentic and candid conversations, she hopes to help create a community that will bring support to those navigating the often isolating and stigmatizing path to parenthood. Jessica’s personal nonlinear journey towards parenthood took many paths and two terminations for medical reasons (TFMR), an emergency c-section, secondary infertility, two miscarriages, IVF, giving birth two months prematurely and a 5.5 week NICU stay. Her published essays about pieces of her tumultuous journey have been featured in Glamour Magazine and Daily Dot. A native Angeleno, she lives in Los Angeles with her husband, two sons and two dogs.
Stacy Bernstein is an entrepreneur, mother and co-founder of The B(e)aring All Project. A brand visionary who has spent the last decade co-founding several businesses while creating immersive partnerships, Stacy has found meaningful ways to connect with families through storytelling. Some of these brand partners include Target, Pottery Barn Kids, Converse, Levi’s, West Elm and Splendid. While she was fortunate enough to experience three mostly drama free pregnancies, followed by three mostly drama free births, Stacy began to intimately understand the devastating heartbreak, loss and grief that accompanied Jessica’s experience. Recognizing the isolation inherent in her dear friend’s experience, she had the idea to create a community that humanizes theses taboo subjects and painful realities to help support a cultural shift around all things pregnancy and fertility related. A native Angeleno, Stacy lives in Los Angeles with her husband and three children and puppy, Frank.