Finding Happiness After A Miscarriage
Miscarriage is a heart-wrenching experience that affects many people. Unfortunately, it's a rarely discussed topic, making it difficult for grieving people to find support and understanding. The experience of pregnancy loss is different for everyone. The meaning of the loss, the circumstances, and your feelings are valid. No one will experience the loss precisely like you. I am a therapist and a coach by background. So I intuitively thought I was prepared for the emotional piece and could get through on my own or with the proper support. As it Turns out, that was the part I was least prepared for and left the most devastating impact. There was a time when I referred to Google to help find other women's stories that resonated with me and allowed me to piece together my own process. I'm sharing a raw part of myself, and my journey has taken me two years to be able to communicate. However, I am sharing from a space of peace and hope, potentially filling in the pieces I was looking for and couldn't find when I needed them the most.
My Personal Story
When I found out I was pregnant, it was not a moment that I had dreamt about. I was 37, it happened during COVID, and it was the first time I had ever been pregnant. I was also in a relationship with a man with two children, which made the situation more complex.
So, When I found out, I initially felt a lot of fear; I was worried about his reaction. I didn't experience that joy in that excitement of telling my partner, nor did I experience that for myself.
Initially, when I found out, obviously, you go through those motions of calling the doctor and setting up an appointment. However, because it was COVID, the opportunity for my partner to join any of my medical appointments wasn't possible. Also, we didn't advocate strongly enough for both of us to attend those upcoming appointments. On my first medical appointment, a concern was brought forward initially based on some things my doctor was seeing. However, it was never the fear of the baby not developing correctly; it was that I was having twins or I was a lot further along than I had anticipated/estimated. After every appointment, I had this sinking feeling of fear that something was not right. We finally discovered that I had fibroids that were impacting the shape and size of my uterus. I was assured that this wasn't serious and was very common. Unfortunately, I didn't advocate for myself. I wish I had been encouraged to be seen by an OBGYN very soon and to be monitored at high risk based on the fibroids, my age and overall health, and I didn't.
As weeks went on, I continued to have a constant fear that something wasn't right.
Between weeks 11 and 17, I was in and out of the hospital. It started with spotting and then developed pain. After that, I was in and out of emergency about five or more times and had roughly 20 ultrasounds.
I was continuously discharged with the reassurance that my ultrasounds looked normal, the baby was healthy, bouncing around and moving, and there would be laughter and giggle with that. And at that moment, I would be at peace, But the peace never stayed.
What bothered me the most about this experience was the interactions. At 11 weeks, I experienced some sudden spotting for the first time. I felt disconnected from my body, almost like a sinking feeling that something wasn't right. I called my partner and was brought to the emergency. Tears filled my eyes as I walked in, and with so much fear that I would lose this child.
I remember checking into the emergency department and being initially seen by the nurse. She was taking some general information, And she asked me, "Why are you crying?" I was taken aback by that question, not only because I work in healthcare but also because it is female to female. I didn't understand why she was asking that question. I thought that that would be a very intuitive and normal response. So obviously, in my fear, I responded calmly, "Well, I'm scared that I'm going to lose my child." And I wish I was comforted at that moment, but unfortunately, I wasn't.
At 17 weeks (and my 3rd or 4th visit) continued to have spotting, and then I started to develop pain. Again, I received the same response; "everything looks healthy, and here is some medication for pain."
Throughout this, I'm again at a loss for what is happening. People weren't listening to me. However, I recall one very positive experience in the emergency department: a physician sent me for more testing and referred me immediately to be seen by an OBGYN. And, again, a moment of peace; I'm going to be seen, I'm going to be taken care of, and everything's going to be okay.
The last time I was in the emerge, I was there until 5 am and then sent home again with pain medication, which provided that initial relief when I got home. Then, about 2 hours later, We were calling the ambulance because of some further bleeding. And just that moment of knowing it was in that moment I knew I knew that this is what is happening and I am good in a crisis. And I pulled myself together and instructed my partner on what to do. And I could communicate with the paramedics who showed up and tell them all the information they needed. So at that moment, I put on that hat of," I'm a healthcare worker; I know the information you need to help me best."
I was very eerily calm through that experience of going to the hospital. I was then admitted, but it was not until the following day that I discovered I had lost the baby. It was devastating and shocking.
So when I was told that I had lost my child, I was, again, in this moment of calm. But I was starting to ask questions in terms of what's next, what happens next? Because I actually did not know what, medically, goes on.
I immediately got on the phone when they informed me because no one was with me, which was the most challenging part; the aloneness, that feeling of not only physically being alone, like, feeling alone.
It's unfortunate for me, and many other women, you know, during COVID, having to experience the loss alone. My only support was through my cell phone. However, You don't necessarily bring your charger when leaving for the hospital in an ambulance. So when I was running low on power, I thankfully had some very supportive nurses who gave me a phone charger and helped me out.
When making those calls, it was very complex. I called my partner and, again, gave him instructions on when he could come to the hospital and how to enter because there were only a few entrances open and very strict visitor rules. I called my parents and told them, but again, I felt I was comforting everyone, which was very lonely.
A lot went on through the next several hours, but I don't think getting into the details is helpful. However, several complications occurred. I ended up in emergency surgery and then had a blood transfusion. I stayed in the hospital for several days because of the following events after the miscarriage. In reality, I didn't expect to be there that long. Still, again, I had zero concepts of the medical procedures following a miscarriage, which will look different for everybody, depending on your stage.
I am grateful though, being in the hospital at that moment, I received that urgent care. And I was in the hospital for those few days but had so much support from the nursing staff. It was the most Beautiful support, which I will never forget.
When I was finally discharged is when everything hit me. It was the future that I was grieving. It was challenging because the life I had imagined was now gone. I went from one place of expecting a child to another of no longer expecting. And that was lonely; that piece continued to reinforce this lonely feeling. Whether you have a supportive partner or family members around you. No one else is going through that future that you had planned out in your mind and heart with this child you're expecting.
So I had to figure out how do I move through that. How do I allow myself to grieve? Not only the loss of my child but also the loss of what I thought our future look like.
EXTRA DETAILS:
To add to my story, it ended up with the loss of the baby and other situations or other factors, and my relationship also fell apart. So and now going through a loss of a child and a relationship lost. It was so much to take on at one point. And I didn't know how to figure both out simultaneously.
If you are curious about how I overcame BOTH the loss of my baby and also my relationship, you can listen to my PODCAST!
How to cope with a miscarriage
Firstly, Try Not to Compare Yourself to Others
When dealing with a miscarriage, comparing yourself to other women who have had successful pregnancies can be easy. But it's important to remember that every woman experiences pregnancy differently. There is no "right" way to feel after a miscarriage. Some women may seem like they're coping just fine, but that doesn't mean they don't have their own struggles behind closed doors. So instead of comparing yourself to others, focus on caring for yourself and giving yourself the time and space you need to heal.
Acknowledge Your Feelings - Give yourself permission to feel the grief, sadness and anger of a miscarriage.
It's normal to feel a range of emotions after a miscarriage, including sadness, anger, guilt, and anxiety. It's essential to allow yourself to grieve in whatever way feels right for you. Some people find talking about their feelings with friends or family helpful, while others prefer to keep their grief private. There is no "right" way to grieve, so do whatever feels best.
Take Time to Heal - Give yourself space to process your emotions and care for your health.
It's important to be gentle with yourself during this difficult time. Avoid putting pressure on yourself to "bounce back" quickly or act like everything is fine when it's not. Instead, give yourself permission to grieve and care for yourself however necessary. This might include taking time off work, sleeping more, or eating healthy meals.
What helped me:
*note: I only recommend this to some people. However, it's what I needed to do.
In Canada, you receive a memory box; it might have footprints, handprints and other memorable items, like an ultrasound picture. So every day, I pulled up that box from my closet and looked through the things, and just sat on the floor and cried until I couldn't cry anymore. Then, I opened myself up to say, "Bring me all the grief, pain, hurt, and anger because I'm gonna face it now." I didn't want to avoid it, and that was my process.
I went through different phases, I'd look at it, and everything went back in the box, went back into the closet, and pulled it back out, day in and day out. But, eventually, I did get to a place where I could no longer have to look at the memory box every day or look at it and not have overwhelming tears.
The most challenging item for me was the ultrasound picture. So one day, I took the ultrasound photo and put it on my fridge. Finally, I was in a place where I could look at that photo daily and acknowledge the spirit. I committed to this spirit, this child that I had lost, that I was going to get through this and that I was going to make my life meaningful. And that is how I grounded myself every day, but it took about nine months to accomplish that. Although those photos moved in my home, they still exist in how I connect with that ultrasound photo, always from a place of grounding.
Create a Support system for yourself, whether spending time with family, friends, or an online community, but surround yourself with people who can offer comfort and understanding.
If you're struggling to cope with your loss, seek support from loved ones or a professional counsellor. Talking about your experience can be incredibly healing, and it can also help you to gain a better understanding of your feelings. However, suppose you're not ready to talk about your miscarriage. In that case, other ways exist to get support, such as joining a support group or reading about other women's experiences.
The worst thing someone could say was, "It's time to just move on"; those words are so hurtful, even though they probably aren't intended to be. People use phrases like, "Let's move on" or "Let's move past this" because it's how they have to grieve or how that individual has to cope. But for someone that actually went through the physical aspects and is still moving through the emotional parts, like the body reminding them of the loss or their heart aching every day, it isn't even possible to "just move on."
It's essential to have loved ones recognize that you don't need help to "move on" but support you while you "move through." The most significant piece in our world and societies is that we get frozen in traumatic events in other people's lives. As a result, we are often uncomfortable with sadness and can feel tripped up on the right thing to say or how to show up. Although we feel frozen or don't know how to respond or react, we leave the suffering individual feeling invisible. A big lesson is leaning in instead of being frozen or pulling back because this is a time when we need each other the most. Instead of checking in through a partner, reach out directly to ask how they are doing, how you could show up for them today, or what you think and feel about it. They need someone to say, "I see you, I hear you. I don't need to fix you." They need loved ones to acknowledge that they didn't need to be fixed; they just needed someone to witness this journey, see the tears, and offer love and support.
People can show their love and support in different ways; often, people express love through acts of service. Whether it is a care package, dropping off food, or helping with errands, it brings comfort and gratitude to be surrounded by loved ones.
However, Acknowledging the person's love language can help guide you in how to support them and how best to express love and comfort.
A note to a Mom that just lost her baby through a Miscarriage
Dearest friend,
I am deeply saddened to hear about your recent miscarriage, and my heart aches for the pain you must be feeling during this difficult time. As you navigate this journey, please remember that you are not alone. Although the path to motherhood can be challenging, I believe in the strength and resilience of sisterhood, and I am here to support you in any way possible.
Miscarriage is a heartbreaking experience, and the emotions that come with it can be overwhelming, but it is essential to acknowledge the pain and grief you are going through. It is important to remind yourself that you are still a strong, loving, and capable mother, that this experience does not define your journey toward motherhood, and that your dreams of nurturing a life are still valid and attainable.
In moments of darkness, know that there are other women who have faced similar hardships and are here to stand by your side, ready to uplift and empower you as you heal and move forward. Together, we can share our stories and help you navigate the path toward recovery – and your journey through motherhood does not end here. You are a beautiful, brave soul, and we are here to support you, overcome the challenges, and celebrate the joys that life brings.
Jules