'I couldn't stop thinking about having another loss. I couldn't go through it again'

Swimming in an ocean that seems calm, and then I get caught in the unexpected rip current that I try to fight until I cannot fight anymore.

That has been my life for the past 15 months.

My husband, Matt, and I lost our baby girl, Gabriella Rose, on July 3, 2013, and our baby boy, Isaac Daniel, on Feb. 16, 2014.

I remember the day I "knew" I was pregnant. It was a Sunday in early March 2013 and we were on our way home from my parents' house. I asked Matt to take me to the pharmacy because I needed "something." He never thought anything of it and dropped me off at the door while he waited for me in the car. I bought the pregnancy tests and shoved them in my purse. Still, Matt had no idea and I wanted to surprise him if my suspicions were correct.

When we got home, Matt began making dinner while I "changed into my pajamas." But really, I ran into the bathroom and took both tests at the same time.

Almost instantly, the little pink lines showed up. My heart skipped a beat. I had always planned on telling Matt about our pregnancy in a really cute way, but in that moment I forgot all about it and began laughing uncontrollably.

Matt ran into our room and asked what was so funny. He saw what I was holding and grabbed them from me. He asked if I was serious and hugged me. We held each other for about 10 minutes before we let go and talked about how much we wanted this and how much we were looking forward to it.

At 16 weeks, Matt and I decided to have an elective ultrasound to find out the gender. It was not an easy task. Our little peanut did not feel like revealing itself, at least not until Mommy had some chocolate. Soon we knew we would be having a little princess. We were on Cloud Nine! We had her heartbeat recorded and placed inside a cute pink stuffed bear. Afterward, we had some pepperoni pizza - Gabby's favorite meal.

A total of almost 20 weeks of happiness passed until the morning of July 3, 2013. That morning I woke up and noticed some bleeding. We'd had a scare a few weeks earlier but were told everything was fine. This time I once again panicked.

We went to the ER at Edward Hospital where I was examined and they performed an ultrasound. I remember how quiet the technician became and how she excused herself for a moment. The ER doctor came in and explained that I was dilated and my baby's foot was coming through. I was losing my baby. Everything after that became a giant, muted blur. We decided to wait for the inevitable to happen: to give birth to my baby of only 20 weeks.

When Gabby was born she was silent. We knew what had happened, yet, somehow I heard her cry. I felt it in my soul.

And then came the loud crash that was reality. Gabby was gone. Doctors had prepped us for this outcome, but we weren't ready.

She was so tiny, yet big for 20 weeks. Matt is 6 feet, 3 inches, so I just knew she was going to be tall like her daddy. Except, now we would never know.

Over the next several weeks, Matt and I grieved differently. He cried. I tried to be brave. But my bravery lasted a month before it affected me physically. Anxiety and depression took over my life. I thought my world was over. I saw counselors and doctors and they all wanted to help, but I wouldn't let them. I was not ready to be OK.

I remember having a conversation with my nurse about taking things one day at a time, allowing my emotions to happen, riding the waves and "worrying about things tomorrow." She wasn't telling me anything I hadn't already heard, but for some reason, at that moment, I listened.

My faith grew greater and stronger and I was able to turn my outlook of my situation into a positive one. I was determined to live my life in honor of my daughter. She was sent to me for only 20 short weeks to make me see what life is really about - family and love.

Matt and I found out we were pregnant again three months later. We were trying again, so to confirm it was amazing. At the same time, I hesitated to get too excited since I had already experienced the worst-case scenario, and I was afraid to become attached again only to have my hopes and dreams ripped away.

I saw my ob/gyn and a high-risk doctor to determine a plan for this pregnancy. I have an incompetent cervix, so we knew I couldn't carry a pregnancy myself. My doctors and I decided I would have a cerclage - a procedure in which a stitch is placed in drawstring form on the cervix to keep it closed. The hope was that I wouldn't go into preterm labor due to the weak cervix.

All caution was taken with my second pregnancy. At 16 weeks, we found out we were having a boy. However, I was placed on bed rest because my cervix had shortened. I was so careful to do everything I was told to do. I went to my doctor's office for my 20-week scan and it was determined that my cervix had shortened slightly past my cerclage. I was sent to the hospital to try to avoid rupture of my membranes or my cervix.

I was calm until I got to the hospital. I began having strong contractions and I couldn't stop thinking about having another loss. I couldn't go through it again.

I remained in the hospital until Sunday, Feb. 16, when my baby was going to come early once again.

Isaac was born that night - alive. He had a heartbeat and he lived for 44 minutes before he went to heaven. All I have left of him is a little blue elephant blankie I wrapped him in.

Whenever we can, Matt and I like to visit our babies at the cemetery. We like to have picnics with them and almost every time we do, white butterflies join us. We like to think it's them.

My angel babies have taught me so much about life. So much more than any schooling ever did. Seeing Isaac hold on and fight with all he had for those 44 minutes made me realize I had a lot to learn. I needed to fight for my life, my family and my marriage because at the end of the day, that's what matters. It's not the material things. It's not the popularity contest we call society. It's about how much love I can give. No one will remember how many shoes I owned or how much I spent on clothes or cars. But they will remember how much I loved to help and care for others. That's why I love working in the medical field. I get to put others before me and help them in every way I can. I've been a medical assistant for eight years and I've loved it, but I feel like this is the first time I understand just how much.

I want to make my babies proud and I know they will be. I will live in honor of them for the rest of my life. They will live through me.

We walk for Gabby, Isaac and all the angel babies who were sent so briefly to show us what this life is really about.

Thanks to Edward Hospital, staff and the SHARE program for all they do for families like ours. Thanks to my wonderful family members who have been our biggest supporters.

And for that one special nurse who has no idea how much she has done - for Matt and me - and continues to do for so many others. She has the heart of an angel and I know there's a reason we met her. A special thanks to you, Jackie.