I hate this term – it feels too clinical, and for me it doesn’t reflect that my tiny human died.
When it happened it knocked me sideways. Even now, and it was 17 years ago, I still get a flicker of the feelings I had when I was told the news. The feelings never really leave our bodies; they just retreat in to the background emerging when I might least expect it. Although early miscarriage is common, it does not take away the feelings of grief and loss when it happens
My Joy
I did a home test at about six weeks and the result was positive. I was pregnant! Like most couples, we did not tell anyone because it was so early. Privately, we spoke about how our lives would change, how we would love and nurture this tiny little person growing within me. I was elated – I was going to a mum. I was going to have a baby and be responsible for a new human being. I did not feel overwhelmed at all. I felt just pure joy as I daydreamed about the future. And then it all changed
The First Signs of Loss
At eight weeks I started to bleed. I remained hopeful, but the bleeding got heavier, and I just knew that this pregnancy was not going to last. The feeling was like a heavy weight in the pit of my stomach. It was a feeling of dread. As the home pregnancy test had shown positive, we decided to go to the hospital.
Hospital Experience
I have kind of blocked it out, but I am sure we ended up in the maternity unit as I vaguely remember women with swollen pregnant bellies, and there I was losing my tiny embryo. So cruel. I felt like a fraud, and I still do not know why I had that feeling. I just live with it now and I am kind to myself about that. Blood tests and an internal scan later revealed no baby. In fact, someone told me I had never been pregnant: there were no hormones in my blood tests and no sac in the scan. Scientifically, there was no evidence that I had ever been pregnant, despite the results of the home test kit. Yet, for two weeks I had lived with a knowledge that I was pregnant. How could the home-test have been wrong?
How could they say I had never been pregnant? The home test kit had said it was true. Why would they not believe the results? This denial of my experience by experts was hard to hear and hard to bear. It sent me into a tailspin.
Rationally, I know the science is the science is the science right. But what about the human factor, what about my humanness? I felt dismissed and I felt like I had failed. The only “kind” thing that was said was “you are healthy, you can try again”. Try again? What? My world had just fallen apart and my mind and body cried out “I am not over this yet, how can I contemplate trying again”…
It took me almost two years before I could “try again”. In the intervening time, I had therapy. I remember being at work and feeling overwhelmed. I called the work support line and was babbling on about x, y and z, speaking rapidly; then I took a deep breath and slowly said “I have had a miscarriage”. The guy (a therapist) on the other end of the phone was so lovely and gentle. He acknowledged my loss and talked me through the options available to me, one of which was therapy. I took it. I had no idea what that meant but I just knew I needed to do something.
I needed to deal with the trauma I was holding on to. I did not use the word trauma – I find it hard to allow myself to use it for my experiences. Instead, I use excuses like it was early, there was no baby, I am fit and healthy, I can always try again. The loss of the baby, as I saw it, was hard enough with all my dreams for the future gone in flash but the hardest part was dealing with the way I had been treated. The lack of humanness, as I have said before, remains hard to bear. All I wanted was someone at the hospital to say something like “we know the tests say no baby, but we can see how devastating this news is for you. Take care of yourself and you will eventually feel ready to want to try for another baby”. It is not difficult to do and yet I hear time and again about the lack of sensitivity towards women in times like these.
Statistics
One in four women experience miscarriage – what a word. One in four women will lose a pregnancy. The loss, the guilt, the what ifs, the unanswered questions, and the shame stay with women for years. I listened to a Guardian podcast where Jennie Agg talked about her experiences of pregnancy loss and recent scientific developments to further understand why women lose one or more pregnancy.
Please do not suffer in silence. Message me and let me help you make sense of your story.
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