What I Wish I Had Known About Miscarriage Before I Had One
Finding out I was pregnant for the first time
Update: This is a repost from a blog originally written December 13, 2015.
On November 5, 2014 my husband and I got pregnant with our first child. On December 13, 2014 - one year ago today - we miscarried. It’s a day I will never forget, and it was easily one of the worst times of my life. I was so scared, and sad, and angry, and lost, but mostly, I felt misguided. Through the whole process of our miscarriage (and yes, it is a process), I kept asking myself why the heck no one had ever prepared me for this. By the end, I found myself radically disappointed with the whole species of women because of the lack of information, awareness, and knowledge that is out there to prepare people for the unfortunate, but real, possibility of miscarrying. After having gone through one myself, I strongly believe that it is vitally important that we, as women (and our husband counterparts), begin talking openly about miscarriage so that the unfortunate people that encounter one in the future won’t have to feel as lost as I did through the entire, miserable journey. That is why, one year after my miscarriage, I have decided to write this post about what I wish I had known about miscarriage before I had one. And honestly, this post isn’t going to be nearly enough to prepare anyone for the magnitude of miscarriage, but it’s a start. So no matter who you are and what phase of life you are in, I urge you to read this as well as other articles about miscarriage, because the sad reality is about 1 in 5 recognized pregnancies will end in miscarriage, which means – God forbid – there’s a real chance that you (or your spouse) will have a miscarriage in the future, and if not, you can be certain that someone in your circle of friends has or will have one down the road. So here we go... 8 (of many) things I wish I had known about miscarriage before I had one:
1. It’s not just a single event.
My entire life I was under the impression that a miscarriage is an event. Even the word sounds singular – “miscarriage” – as though it happens and then it’s done. Much to my surprise, this is not the case. I thought that when someone had a miscarriage, they had an unimaginably terrible day during which they lost their baby, and then the next day they woke up and everything was back to normal. Now, of course, I realize how ignorant this sounds. But for those of you who are as misguided about miscarriage as I was, I’m here to tell you that a miscarriage is a process, and not just emotionally as everyone expects, but physically too. The day after our miscarriage I wrote this passage in my journal:
“Yesterday was hell. It was awful. It was seeing blood for the first time and not knowing what it meant… And then it was the feeling of going to bed in the dark, knowing that I had woken up that morning as a mommy-to-be and that I was going to bed not. And cuddling up to my husband, and crying my eyes out, wishing that this one terribly awful day would be it, but knowing that it wasn’t. It wasn’t at all in fact. Today is day two - only day two. Day two of… 7, 14, 31, 61… Who knows. But all day the bleeding continued. All day I could physically feel my baby continuing to leave me. I may have miscarried yesterday, but it didn’t end yesterday. I’ll likely bleed throughout the week – a daily reminder that I am no longer in the euphoria of pregnancy. And then it’ll be another month or two before my body has returned to its normal cycle, where it feels ready to move forward with the task of starting our family again.”
2. The words will do everything they can to not escape your mouth.
My husband and I were out with a group of friends doing some community service/mission work when I noticed blood for the first time. I remember walking out of the bathroom flushed, hot, and misty-eyed – knowing something was wrong, but not knowing what to do next. The magnitude of the situation quickly began to overwhelm my body and I remember things becoming blurry as I made my way through our friends to find my husband. Then, once I reached him, I remember looking at him and opening my mouth, but having no words come out. What was I supposed to say? How do I just casually tell my husband that I believe we’re losing our baby? It’s amazing how hard that first admission was. I think all I managed to get out was “I think something’s wrong.” Who knew if he actually had any idea what I was talking about, but it gave me the lead-in I needed to further explain myself.
3. Even if it’s early on, it can be extremely painful.
Prior to my miscarriage this was my image of the physical occurrence of it: You’re pregnant, and then one day you bleed a lot and realize you’ve lost your baby. The end. In reality, I discovered that even at only 6.5 weeks pregnant, my miscarriage was extremely painful. I got intense cramps, I was flushed over with the chills, I began sweating profusely, and I was an overwhelming mix of feeling nauseated and feeling like I was going to pass out. Because we were not at home when I had my miscarriage, we rushed to the closest emergency room, where we spent the rest of the day. I remember lying in the hospital bed all day, as nurses poked and prodded me for a million different tests, having my abdomen feel like it was tying itself into tight and painful knots. Aside from labor itself, I think that was quite possibly the most uncomfortable pain I’ve ever experienced.
4. There’s no right or wrong way to feel.
After having my miscarriage, I spent the subsequent days frantically Googling miscarriage stories in an attempt to figure out what the heck was in store for us. First of all, there really isn’t much out there to go off of, which is why I feel like it’s important for us to start making this more of a commonly talked about topic. Secondly, from what I could find, it seemed as though no one reacted to their miscarriage like I did. Everyone who chose to write about their experience wrote about the absolute emotional turmoil that they experienced, and how even years later, there wasn’t a single day that passed that they didn’t think about the baby that they lost. And while my heart felt for them, I couldn’t relate.
When we had our miscarriage, as terrible as it was, I quickly turned to my faith. While it was no less devastating and heartbreaking, I truly believe that while I may not understand God’s reasoning for everything, I trust that it is good. And so even on the day after our miscarriage, I was emotionally pushing forward rather than focusing on our loss. I’m sure to some this seems completely unrelatable, but what I quickly realized is that there’s no right or wrong way to deal with such an extreme and personal loss. There’s just dealing with it, and whatever that looks like for you is exactly what you need to be doing.
5. You and your husband will likely deal with it differently, but that does not mean that it has to pull you apart.
My husband and I ended up pulling some great blessings out of the experience of our miscarriage. For one, it brought us closer to our faith. Secondly, it brought us closer to each other. I feel incredibly blessed that we were able to pull some positives out of such a negative situation, even though we dealt with it in two entirely different ways.
Being that the miscarriage was physically happening to me, I experienced most of my dramatic emotions immediately. Those first few days, and really the first couple of weeks, were extremely difficult. My mind was constantly on the loss of our baby and, in turn, the immediate changes in expectations for our future. My husband, on the other hand, stayed visibly strong in those first few days. Between the two of us, he’s always been the more emotionally subdued, and at first it seemed as though this was no different. He kept everything in check and was a complete rock for me when I needed it most. Then, after about a week and a half – right about the time that my emotional scars were starting to heal and I was becoming more stable, he finally had an extreme external breakdown over our loss. It was the most vulnerable I had ever seen my husband, which brought an element of beauty to an otherwise heartbreaking moment. In the end, respecting each others process of mourning and being the rock for one another when it was most needed, brought a depth of love to our relationship that we had never experienced. Even today, one year later, I can think back to that moment and become overwhelmed with respect for my husband.
6. No matter how much the doctor tells you that it’s not uncommon, you will still be terrified.
Both the day of our miscarriage and a month later when I had my “pre-conception” appointment with a midwife, I was told time and time again that miscarriages are extremely common – especially in the first pregnancy. No matter how many times I heard it, this didn’t keep me from being absolutely terrified for what this miscarriage meant for our future. I would stay up at night wondering if we’d ever be able to have kids. I would hear the doctors say, “this miscarriage does not mean you’ll have another miscarriage in the future,” but in my heart I was paralyzed by the fear of losing another child. I was haunted by the idea of enduring years of fertility issues and complications. I think if you miscarry before you successfully have children, you are doomed to have these looming and extremely morbid questions dance around your head. All I ever wanted was to be a mother. I had never considered that God might make it a long and trying journey.
7. No matter how understanding you are, it will hurt like hell every time someone asks you about pregnancy afterwards.
I only told two people about our miscarriage shortly after it happened – two extremely close friends of mine that I could trust to be there if I needed to vent. I always told them at the beginning of our conversations to not worry about saying the wrong thing. While some women come out of their miscarriage extremely sensitive, I always wanted to keep in perspective that if I were in their shoes, I would have no idea what to say. All in all, I would say I did a great job at not being offended by other’s words, however, after going through my miscarriage, there was only one thing that truly compared to the pain I experienced on the actual day of our loss, and that’s the dagger-like pain I felt every time a friend or family member asked us when we were going to have kids. Unfortunately, this was a fairly common occurrence because I was the girl throughout our entire two-year engagement that talked about how excited we were to be parents one day. It seemed like anytime we hung out in a social setting, somebody would feel the need to ask the question. After becoming almost publically choked-up the first few times someone asked as I frantically searched for an acceptable answer, I finally landed on the pre-scripted response, “In God’s time.” If nothing else, having a planned response gave me words to focus on, rather than the gaping hole in my heart that my child once filled.
8. It doesn’t have to haunt you forever.
Lastly, I want you to know that no matter what people say, your miscarriage doesn’t have to be something that haunts you forever. In the first few days and weeks, it will be all you ever think about. It will feel like not a second goes by in your day that your child, in one way or another, is on your mind. But then, eventually, you’ll realize that you’ve gone a full two days without thinking about your miscarriage. You’ll feel a sense of freedom, like you’re just slightly less bound by the weight of your loss.
I’ve always been told by some of my mentors to never speak the struggle before the victory, but now, one year later, I can tell my story while I hold this beautiful 7lbs 13oz victory in my arms. And one day you’ll be able to tell your story too and help today’s world have a little bit more understanding around the subject of miscarriage. Sure, there are still days that I think about that precious child that we had to say good-bye to before we ever got the chance to meet, but it’s not every day, and it’s certainly not in the form of “what-if.” Instead, I think about how exciting it’s going to be to have an epic gender-reveal waiting for Daddy and me when we get to Heaven.