‘I Lost My Baby’ – Ainsley Earhardt’s private tragedy shocks Fox News fans worldwide!

I am a mother.

It is a title that now defines me, but one I never truly desired until my mid-thirties. And even then, it was more of a short-term goal than an actual craving. At the time, my focus was still on my career—I wanted to have a bigger role at work and get established before even considering a family.

But in the back of my mind, I did love the idea of having four children. I imagined a home full of laughter, loads of fun, and kids chasing each other through the house. But, I knew deep down that probably wouldn’t happen. I was too busy working crazy hours, sometimes seven days a week, traveling all over the country chasing stories, and living the apartment life (a.k.a. no backyard or long hallways for the children to play and run). Four kids would be expensive and I could never step away from the anchor desk often enough to be an attentive mom to all of them.

At that stage in my life and career, a big family was not an option. But having one child? Well, that was definitely in the cards.

When I got married, I was closer to 40 years old than 30. And after a few years of marriage, it hit me like a ton of bricks: I wanted a baby.

Watch these moms talk about how their daughters changed their lives:

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At the time, I was co-hosting the 5 a.m. show, FOX and Friends First, my position was secure, and my husband and I could finally afford to raise a child in New York. The timing was perfect and I had everything planned: We would conceive in February or March, because I was determined to have a baby in the fall. Why? The voices of Manhattan mothers rang loudly in my head—warning me of the difficulties of getting a “summer baby” into a New York pre-school.

A good friend of mine says, “We plan, God laughs.” She was right.

A Season Of Patience

Scripture says “there is a season for everything,” and, for me, this time in my life was a season of patience. I wanted a baby so badly, but it wasn’t working out. I began feeling really sad that we were having so much trouble conceiving. I continuously saw pregnant ladies on the sidewalks, children on park swings, and moms pushing strollers. My professional friends were getting pregnant, and I was not.

We tried month after month, and there were many, many emotional ups and downs along the way. But, after eight months, I took a pregnancy test and it was finally positive. I know many women try for years, but eight months seemed like eternity to me. The waiting was not easy.

We were having a baby. I was going to be a mother. Finally!

To deliver the good news to my husband, I bought a silver baby spoon, and told him to unwrap the gift on the steps of our church. He opened the box and was a bit confused, not quite sure what the spoon meant. When I announced that we were having a baby, he beamed—clearly both nervous and excited.

At eight weeks, my husband and I went to my doctor to hear the heartbeat of our baby, and held hands as we saw our “little one” on the monitor. The heartbeat made it real and we could see our baby and the heart moving up and down. We recorded the sound on my husband’s phone and immediately shared it with our parents in South Carolina and Florida. We left the doctor’s office and walked along 1st Avenue with our parents on speaker phone, reporting our good news. Everyone was elated, especially since this would be the first grandchild on both sides.

At the next visit in November, our doctor walked in and told us she was concerned, and hoped we would hear a heartbeat. We had no idea she was even worried. She had mentioned at the last visit that the baby was small at our stage in the pregnancy. But, it didn’t seem to be a red flag for either of us. We just assumed she meant the delivery date was in question.

What happened next was unexpected and crushing. The doctor searched for a heartbeat, but there wasn’t one. Was this really happening to us? My husband was sweet and held my hand as the sadness and reality rushed over us both. My doctor (of nearly 10 years) was extremely compassionate and walked us through the next process. She set up appointments for us and made sure we were okay. I remember telling her that I had prayed for a healthy baby and God knew best. He took my child home to heaven where I knew he or she would be happy and positively perfect. One day we will meet again.

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Moving Forward

I had to have an operation to remove my lifeless baby. I felt despair—knowing my child and I would be permanently separated—but I was also anxious for it all to be over. I wanted to put this behind me so I could try for another baby again immediately. The surgery took place about a week after learning the bad news. Since then, we’d also done a genetic test, which revealed our child had an extra chromosome. It was a fluke and the chances were slim that this would happen again. After the procedure, I decided I wanted to know the sex of the baby. The nurse (on the other end of the phone) asked me if I was sure I wanted to know. “Without a doubt,” I said. I needed to know if I had a daughter or a son in heaven. She told me, “It’s a girl.”

A few weeks later I had to have a follow-up surgery. The doctor scheduled my procedure the very morning we were flying home for Christmas vacation. I was anxious to try again and if I didn’t have the surgery before Christmas, it would be another month.

But in late January, we decided to take a break from trying to have a baby. We just needed to breathe for a bit, and focus on other aspects of our relationship.

One night, in early March, we went to dinner with a good friend of mine who also works at FOX, and her husband. We shared a huge meal and a few margaritas. The next day, I started counting the calendar days and realized I was late. We picked up a pregnancy test and casually took it. Turns out…we were expecting.

I was shocked. We tried and tried for about a year and never came home with a baby. Yet, the one month we decided to take a break—we get pregnant? I was overcome with emotions.

Becoming A Mother

My body changed instantly. Our loyal, FOX viewers started suspecting and after four months passed, I told my parents (on Mother’s Day), my boss, and eventually the world (on FOX News).

In November, I delivered a child and my husband delivered the news to our families in the waiting area—it was a girl.

We finally had our baby and I became a mother. It was hands-down the best weekend of my life. We fell so in love with her and she was ours. Our families were with us, my best friends surprised me at the hospital, and my healthy child was born in New York City—the place where dreams came true for me.

My little Hayden DuBose Proctor will be 2 years old soon and I tell her daily that she is a gift.

She taught me to trust God—knowing His ways are better than mine. He sees the future and knew I needed my Hayden. She puts her head on my shoulder and sleeps. She tells me she loves me, takes ballet, and loves animals. She is extremely smart and loves to read. She is not shy and always happy. My Hayden is a blessing and I never would have known her if I had not gone through those difficult days. I went through the valley to get to the mountain, and the journey was worth the blood, sweat, and tears. I would do it all again because the view up here is spectacular and my title is forever “mother.”