I’m not a doctor, nor do I claim to be an expert in pregnancy or miscarriage. That said, like many (perhaps most) reading this, my wife and I have suffered through miscarriage more than once. Miscarriage is the most common type of pregnancy loss, according to the American College of Obstetricians and Gynecologists (ACOG). Studies reveal that anywhere from 10-25% of all clinically recognized pregnancies will end in miscarriage.
It was only after our first loss that friends and family told us it had happened to them, too. Thank God they did, as we had almost never heard anyone talk about it before. My wife and I were simply suffering in silence together wondering what we had done wrong that our little baby didn’t live. So few people talk about miscarriage that we thought we must be among the few to whom this happens. But that’s not true, is it? Have you lost a pregnancy?
It would have helped us so much to have known this sort of thing happens to others… many others… perhaps most others. But we didn’t know; so few talk about it. Of course loss of life is a private thing. When my father died, I didn’t talk about it that much. Guys often don’t talk that much about feelings anyway. Neither, though, did I feel I was alone in my loss. I felt others understood; so many had been through what I was going through.
What is the difference that keeps us silent about miscarriage? I don’t know that I have the answer, and would love for you to voice your feelings in the comment section below. I do suspect that guilt and a feeling of isolation keep us from speaking about miscarriages we’ve suffered. Both feelings are misplaced, however. Almost never is the loss the parents’ fault and I have since found out that we were far from alone in our loss and grief. So I’m coming out of the closet.
We lost three babies (I know someone who lost 10) during pregnancy before we had our perfect little girl. I want you to know that if this has happened to you, you are not alone. It was not your fault. It’s okay to talk about it. In fact leave a comment below, as this is a safe, friendly place in which to speak of your feelings and experience. And if you just want to read and know you are not alone in your suffering, that’s completely okay. I’m sorry for your loss. We all are.
Please leave a comment if you’d like. Share anything you wish. Had you given the babies you never got to hold a name yet? Ours were just Peanut, Sweetpea and Jellybean, though we had a list of possible baby names taped to the refrigerator. I miss them every day. And yes, it might not be very manly, but I’m crying as I write this. Please leave a note below if you wish. Let anyone that’s going through this know they are not alone. Let’s stop the silent suffering. *HUGS*
p.s. I’m neither a doctor or a psychologist, so these are simply the opinions of a dad whose been there, as much as a dad can be. My thoughts should not be construed as, nor replace, medical advice.
Wow, Michael – once again, I’m surprised and touched by how much you allow your readers into your life. It’s… inspiring.
I’ve never lost a child through miscarriage, but I have three boys I haven’t been able to see in years. It helps me to see how precious my son and daughter that live with me are, and enjoy the time we have together more fully. In the same way, I bet it makes having your daughter even more of a blessing.
I’m sorry for your loss – unfortunately, there are no other words that can be said to really get the sentiments across.
Jahnelle, thank you very for your kind words. Coming from someone with your editing experience, I’m sincerely flattered.
On a more serious note, I’m so very sorry to hear you have kids you’ve not been able to see. I cannot image how difficult that must be.
You are correct, though, the ones we do have are that much more precious to us for those we’ve lost. Sending virtual *hugs*.
I applaud you for opening up the channels for communication on this very heartbreaking moment in peoples lives. Two years after my son was born, I went through this very thing and the kindest words about the entire ordeal came from the attending RN.
He told me that Miscarriages were God’s way of taking care of His children who would otherwise not stand a chance. At first I was unsure what exactly it was he meant by that, because having gone to school to help “Special Needs” children, I felt I was perfectly capable of giving a “Special Needs” child a chance in life. But as I mulled over his words, I began to realize that what he meant was that those children who God takes up far too soon for us, is His way of sparing them and their families the heartache of watching them suffer. In my case, I was told that the child would be far too deformed to stand a chance at any kind of life. During that same visit, I was also told I would never again carry a child to term without forfeiting my own life in the process. (but that is a whole other story)
You are right, it is something that we suffer with in silence and it would definitely be a great help to those who need it, to know, they are not alone. They did nothing wrong; God just needed the little one far more than we did.
Hugs to you guys!
Thanks, Mitzi. I’m glad the RN was there to give you some comfort, but it’s sad others don’t speak about it more. Whether, as your intern said, it was God’s way of protecting your little one from suffering an inevitable, painful death… or it is simply nature’s way of dealing with an unviable pregnancy, it was never your fault.
But so often we carry this guilt with us silently, and don’t reach out to others thinking they could not understand… but so many do understand. That was the point of this post. If people feel comfortable sharing, at least perhaps we all won’t feel so alone in our pain and unnecessary guilt.
I recently lost a baby at 10 weeks, and was devastated. It was the absolute last thing I expected to happen, but then I found out after the fact how common it really is. I wondered why it’s not discussed more. Sure, it’s not all that fun to talk about it, but I think women need to be armed with more information. By the way, we just called ours Bean.
I’m so very sorry to hear of your loss, Beth. It is devastating, and there is no reason one should not talk about it. But for some reason people don’t. And just like you, we didn’t find out until after it happened how common it really is. It doesn’t make the loss of your little Bean (or Peanut, Sweetpea and Jellybean in our case) easier, but at least we could feel the comfort of others that know what you are feeling… and be reassured it was not your fault. It crushes me to think of the women out there blaming themselves needlessly… they’ve suffered enough already. *hugs*
It always seems to me that people open up only after hearing someone else has suffered. I believe that we should teach about miscarriage with sexual education so it’s not such a silent shocker.
I was never unfortunate enough to suffer one of these devastating losses, but have held many friends, and even a family members’ hand through their own tough times in this way. I’ve seen relationships split apart, and I’ve seen some solidify.
It is too common to make people suffer in silence. thank you for speaking up.
Thank you for the comfort you’ve provided your friends and family during their times of loss, Lindsay. I agree some sort of education is necessary, and perhaps sex-ed is a possible place for it. I was a geeky kid (big shock)… and I read “Our Bodies Ourselves” when I was a freshman in college. I must admit I was looking at it as a bit of a users manual concerning girls I hoped to date. Anyway, I don’t remember it covering this subject. It should. Thanks for your comment.
You are one brave daddy. We just lost our fourth, at 18 weeks. I miss them all too, but we are lucky to have two healthy babies. I am mid-way through a potential book on this very topic bc I think it’s so important to talk about this and put a face to it. It can happen to anyone. Thank you for sharing your story.
I’m very sorry for your losses, including the recent one. There are no words, but I do understand as much as a man can. And to be clear, we feel it more than it may seem. Damned male pride. I’m happy to hear you’re considering a book on this, Katie. It’s important. Let me know if I can help promote it (for free) when it’s done.
Firstly, it is refreshing to hear a guy talk about miscarriage and I appreciate your willingness to share your story. So often, we forget that our guys are hurting too. I am often stunned at how many others have gone through a miscarriage.
We lost a baby early on at 6 weeks and regardless of how early it happened, that baby was still very much a part of me and my world. It took us 2.5 years to get pregnant again and by some miracle, this one stuck and we now have a beautiful little boy. We would love to have another, but my doctor has discouraged us from trying as I had postpartum complications which put me at a high risk of miscarriage. I don’t think I could go through another miscarriage.
We call ours angel baby and know that our angel watches over our son and keeps him safe.
“Angel Baby”… I love that; and what a sweet thought that your angel watches over your son and keeps him safe. I’m so sorry for your loss, Joanne. You’re right, dads do feel the loss more strongly than we let on. It’s not likely possible for us to feel the depth of connection you do, but we do feel it. There’s a tendency for us to feel like it’s our job to protect the family and fix things and make it all better. There’s nothing like a tragedy of this sort to make us feel completely helpless. We guys would do well to talk about it more, too, but most do not.
Hey my friend,
Yes, unfortunately I share a similar experience. Like you, I have written about it as well on my blog. However, I do think we’re the rare exception as many just aren’t able to talk about it. That’s not a bad thing that people just not to go public, it’s just how we’re wired. I do also believe that shame and guilt (not warranted) lend a significant cause to the apprehension about sharing.
My wife and I went through 4 years of infertility treatments. We had 4 failed IUI’s and a miscarriage before going through the most aggressive form of IVF having been given less than 10% chance of ever conceiving. We now have two beautiful children and of course, it’s easier to talk about.
Whether you choose to talk openly about this very private and personal event/loss or not I can only hope that others are able to share their feelings in one way or another. After all, it’s the sharing that binds us together, makes us human, and allows us to grow.
Thanks for sharing!
Really well said, Josh. See how well you live up to all that #FollowFriday hype I threw your way today on Twitter. I won’t try to follow up your comments, as you said it all… and quite eloquently. Thank you.
Seriously, I don’t know why you are so nice to me. You’re an amazing writer and have the blog to prove it. I’m extremely flattered you share the very generous (too generous) compliments you do.
I’m honored to share this space with you, my friend.
I think a part of it is that so many people don’t view the unborn as valuable human persons, so a miscarriage isn’t seen as the loss of a human life.
Can you imagine losing a toddler and people not understanding your sorrow? Dealing with the loss of a child through miscarriage and the responses of people who don’t understand that pain is too much to deal with all at once.
Within days of finding one is pregnant, parents are imagining nursery decor, looking into college savings plans, investing emotionally in a life and a future that gets ripped away from us. It is sad some people treat that pain as if it’s nothing. It’s not nothing, it’s very real and crushing. Thank you for your thoughts, Dean.
I am so sorry for your loss. One of my sisters miscarried a little girl. She still feels that loss over ten years later.
While time may help us look on loss in a different light, it never takes it away. And quite frankly, as silly perhaps as I am for doing it, I don’t want to let go of the pain fully because to me it’d be a bit like saying they never existed.
I think the problem is because the lost baby is simply termed “products of conception” by medical staff, and the loss of the baby is termed a “spontaneous abortion.” There is so little understanding in the medical community that those growing pieces of flesh are part of your soul.
Of course, the loss never leaves. But it’s expected to not be a big deal because you never “had time to bond with the child.” Anyone who’s been there knows how completely untrue that is.
As you say, anyone who’s lost a baby knows that it one can bond with a child you never held. Some may not feel that way, but for for most the loss is very real to us parents. And to be clear, I was a parent three times before my wonderful little girl was born and I finally got to hold one of them.
April 4, 2004. I can’t even type that 7 years later without crying.
It’s okay. Thanks for your comment. I’m very, very sorry for your loss, Holly. Not very manly I suppose, but I cried when I wrote this blog and am again right now.
Thank you so much for sharing. I think it’s very brave to expose yourself / your pain in that way.
I’m sorry for your loss. Please pass that along to your wife.
It makes me so angry how there are “parents” out there who abuse their children when real parents would give anything to have their little ones in their arms.
I will pass your support on to my wife. Yes, Mona, sadly there is nothing fair about this seemingly indiscriminate loss. I do know, though, that it makes the precious gift that is my little girl that much more special.
Great post. The grief associated with miscarriages is often not recognised by others or at least not for very long. When this happens it’s technically called disenfranchised grief. I wrote an blog post on it that might be of interest to your readers: http://www.paulthecounsellor.com.au/disenfranchised-grief/
Nelly, thank you so much for your comment and for your blog on the subject of disenfranchised grief. I hope people will go read it and encouraged to seek the support they need in their grief.
I posted a poem before Mothers day about loss… because no one wants to talk about it. When I posted it, my parents even sat me down to have “A talk” (really? I’m 39 yrs old) to let me know that just makes everyone uncomfortable to talk about.
so thank you for bring the effects of LOSS to light & for people to talk about.
I’m sorry for all the losses your family has experienced…
I am so sorry for your loss, Rebecca Jo. Many think one shouldn’t speak of it, and perhaps for those that don’t want to or can’t (possibly because they are burying their own personal losses) then we find others who understand and are willing to provide understanding and support. I’m sure some people saw the title of this post and clicked on one of my funny ones instead. And that’s fine. But minimizing our loss or making us feel even worse about it is not acceptable.
That was a terrific blog post. Yes my husband and I experienced 2 miscarriages. The first was right after our wedding it was at 8 weeks. But the 2nd miscarriage came 2 years after our first child was born. I was 16 weeks along and blamed myself for overexercising. I was so ashamed and did not talk about it for a long time. Because of the experience my next 2 pregnancies played out with constant fear. I will never forget the babies I lost. I am thankful everyday for the three kids I have the privilege to raise. I am sorry for your loss and everyone elses commenting on this post. Thank you.
That silent guilt is the thing that makes me feel the worst for so many parents. It’s hard not to wonder if you did something wrong, especially if no one talks about how common it is. I hope you’ve since realized it was never your fault. *hugs*
I’ve had one miscarriage. We named our baby Shiloh, and buried what there was to bury at my MIL’s house, where my 2 youngest were also born in a quiet spot near the front porch swing. We did tell people what was happening, and because we had 3 other children expecting a baby someday we talked to them about it as well. For their sake we had a little ceremony where we released helium balloons and said goodbye. What surprised me was how healing it was for the grown ups as well.
I wrote about it intensively at my own blog as well. here Which was amazingly healing in some ways because I knew mine was just one story in hundreds of similar stories and people shared their with me.
But I always find the question of how many children I have awkward. I tell them that I have 4, which I do, but it feels like a denial of the child who is no longer with us. At the same time, “I have 4, lost one.” seems like it’s too personal for chit chat. I still don’t know how to answer this question and it always takes me a second.
Thank you so much for sharing your experience and your way of dealing with it. We did not have a child until after our three losses, so the idea of having a ceremony involving living children wasn’t something we had to consider, but it sounds lovely and very healing. We did do something similarly special with the remains of one of our children. I didn’t hesitate about how to word that just now. “Our children” is who they were. I hope people will drop by She Laughs at the Days and read your posts.
This brought tears to my eyes. I too have been there. I have three little girls. But I have blamed myself for so long silently…maybe it was a son for my loving husband. I never gave the baby a name. But after hearing your story I have the strength to call mine “Teddy”.
I love the name “Teddy”. It’s perfect. I’m so sorry for your loss. I hate that so many women blame themselves for something that happens so frequently and is almost never their fault. It’s not to late to let your husband in, if you want to. He likely suffered silently as well, and also worried about you and didn’t know how to help. Thank you for sharing, Rebecca. Once again, I’m in tears, but in a way I’m happy you’ve given your little Teddy a name. No one need do that, but I think it’s great. *hugs*
I have had 2 miscarriages, one before my son and one recently in our attempts for a second child. I admit I found the second miscarriage easier to deal with (and talk about) as at least I have a beautiful son to hold. I think the pain and loss is terribly compounded when you have a miscarriage/s and have not had a child at all. It doesn’t matter how many losses you have though, you still grieve and you don’t ever forget. I was also shocked at how many people admit to me they have been through the same when i tell them what has happened. I found talking to others who had been through the same helped me most. So now when I hear of someone suffering a miscarriage, I offer up my experiences to them and encourage them to talk about theirs as much as they want.
Well said, and you you point out, when you do talk about it and find so many other to whom it has happened… the sharing can help. Keeping it buried inside as so many of us do, whether through inappropriate guilt or just discomfort talking about something they figure people won’t understand or want to hear, the burying of the pain never helps. Thanks so much for sharing, Karina.
I am so sorry the Tornado in Texas prevented us from meeting. I would like to have had the chance to give you a real “face-to-face” hug – because I know you from your very compassionate writings.
My miscarriage came as a result of an ectopic pregnancy which ended in my fallopian tubes (which had been tied) being completely removed. I already had three lovely children and after severe prolapse was not supposed to have any more, my husband was away working and I had to go through it almost alone. I remember driving thirty miles through the night, to be able to cry with my mother – while my father was totally bewildered. God love him!
I still grieve the loss of my child. It was almost 35 years ago – but the heartache remains.
Thank you for your wonderful blog.
Lesley, I too am sorry the weather messed up your travel plans. Another time.
As for your comment, it may actually be helpful in a way for others hear from someone to whom it happened 35 year ago. I think sometimes we fear we’ll forget them and they will somehow be lost like they never existed…
But they did exist and they will never be forgotten. I’m sorry for what you went through nearly alone so many years ago. *hugs*
Brigid Katherine 6-20-2007 6 weeks.
I have never told most of my friends. My husband had to tell my parents because I was too overwhelmed at the time and was avoiding their calls. For me it was hard, partly because I still can’t even write about it without the tears, and partly because my friends didn’t know I was pregnant. I didn’t know how to bring up the subject. Oh, by the way, I was pregnant . . .
Brigid Katherine is such a lovely name. I’m so very sorry for your loss, Rachael. I understand about the tears when writing about it. I’ve cried more than a few writing this blog and then reading comments like yours. Thank you for sharing this with us today. Brigid Katherine will never be forgotten. *hugs*
Just wanted to offer you hugs, Rachael. That is how I’ve gone through most of my miscarriages, too…no one ever even knows I’m pregnant when they happen. I know a lot of people announce pregnancies right from the start because they “want the support” if something goes wrong. But unfortunately not everyone GETS that support (we didn’t with our first baby), especially when you are surrounded by people who haven’t ever experienced miscarriage. “Untelling” is VERY difficult. Not even just because of the situation itself, but because pregnancy news seems to spread FAST…by miscarriage news, well…it doesn’t, because people seem to find it weird to talk about. So all sorts of people will know about the pregnancy but not the loss, and weeks/months after losing a baby, it’s pretty rough to have people ask how far along you are now and stuff like that.
Now I’m crying. We had one miscarriage, between our boys. It was so new, our baby was only named B2 (Baby 2) as I miscarried in week 4 probably. It was hard when it happened, but because the baby was so young, I think I hadn’t gotten that attached yet. Now I wonder! I haven’t cried over it in years. My husband actually brings up B2 more than I even think about it. Probably because I’m so busy taking care of an autistic 5 yr old and dramatic 3 yo.
This is a great post. I am sorry for your loss.
Sorry for my delay in responding, Jenny. Yes, you definitely have your hands full, but of course that doesn’t meant that loss just disappears. Everyone copes differently. It sounds like it’s still on your hubby’s mind. Good for him talking about it, if he wants to. So often we guys clam up. Doesn’t mean we don’t feel that loss as well, though. *hugs*
I just found this post. Ironically you posted it on my birthday as I was waiting for my 4th miscarriage to happen. 🙁 (I am going through it right now) We lost two babies (possibly three, but it was unconfirmed) before my first daughter was born, and now I’ve lost 2 more since March. It IS hard to talk about, not because I don’t WANT to talk about it, but because so many people don’t know what to say and would rather not say anything at all…so I feel like I am just creating an awkward situation for others by mentioning my losses, and so I usually just don’t end up saying much at all. (plus sometimes the comments from people who’ve never experienced loss are just hurtful…as if THEY somehow know WHY I lost the baby, ya know?)
Anyway, great post. Happy to see this out there.
I also wanted to say, though, that I have tried to be very open and supportive to others I know who have to endure the same thing at some point. I feel like, if anything, God used my experiences to give me the compassion required to comfort someone during the time of pregnancy loss…because I think it’s true that unless you’ve been there, you really can’t quite fathom what it’s like.
I am so very sorry for your ongoing loss. The urge not to talk about it is natural, and certainly not “wrong”. There is no right and wrong in this, but I do think it can help if you find someone who has been through it and is willing to talk. To often we feel so alone and isolated… and since many (most?) people don’t talk about it, we think perhaps we are one of the few to whom this happens… or worse, that we are somehow to blame. Thank you for your comments. You ALL in sharing here hopefully have helped other who read of your experience (or will read about it here in the future) and realized they were not alone or to blame.
I know this is an old post, but I wanted to come back to it…since my first comment, I have since lost 3 more babies (so 7 total), one was at almost 10 weeks in November, and my loss in Feb/March turned out to be ectopic and I required my tube to be removed after rupture and lots of blood loss. It was a shocking experience.
However, the reason I thought of this post is because is was such an obvious situation (there was no suffering alone in my own little world during the ambulance ride, the ER, the surgery, the hospital stay, or the recovery…EVERYONE knew, and they all knew why it happened), it really allowed me to be very open about my loss(es). I’m still pretty much the only one in my family/friends who’s experienced loss, or at least multiple losses, but at least it’s out in the open to pretty much everyone now, and I pray that it gives me the opportunity to support others in the future. I just think of this blog post a lot when I am able to share with people. It’s one of those things I’ve always known and agreed with, but I guess until I read this hear, it never really “hit” me that others “suffer in silence” as well, you know?
I’m so sorry to hear of the 3 additional babies you’ve lost. Wish I could send virtual ♥ HUGS! ♥ through the wires. I’m glad you’ve been able to talk about this, and have gotten some of the support others don’t. Thanks for thinking of A Daddy Blog. If my post helped you at all, I’m very glad. Wishing you health, happiness and every success in the future.
wow GREAT post! On Jan 17th, 2008 I did not know that I was preg for 2 weeks then lost the baby. I had a deadly disease that can kill me and the child that forced me to have hyst. surgery on July 23, 2008. I called the baby Hannah. That is my favorite name. I would never hold any child on my own which is hard on me. It have been heavy on my heart everyday.
Christy, I am so sorry for the loss of your little Hannah. I hope you are recovering physically well now following your illness and hysterectomy. I can’t really know what you are going through, but you are in my thoughts. *hugs*
Thank you for this post. My wife and I are expecting our first born soon. It wasn’t until she became pregnant that I even became aware how frequently pregnancies end in miscarriage. I went around the first several months not willing to consider myself a father out of fear that, if I recognized my child and lost her, I would always have to think of my first child in heaven.
We struggled with whether or not to tell close friends and family the joyful news because we knew we weren’t supposed to. It wasn’t until we realized that hiding our joy in some outdated Victorian fashion on the chance that we might lose the pregnancy was an absolutely ridiculous notion that we began allowing ourselves to become excited. Why are we socially conditioned to hide our joy just in case it leads to suffering? And what if it does lead to a miscarriage? We reasoned that, if something heart wrenching did happen, we would want those people close to us to walk alongside us.
Thank you for taking time to speak on this very important issue. We as a society need to share this burden together, instead of hiding our pain behind closed doors.
I just wanted to reply to this really quickly to just say that not everyone gets others to walk alongside them when miscarriage happens (as I mentioned in my previous comment). I only throw this out there for others, who like myself, were under that impression and then got a rude awakening once it really happened. I think that it really makes a difference when you are surrounded by others who have walked that road before you, but in the case where there’s been no one else who’s experienced a pregnancy loss, you hear a lot of hurtful things (even though many are unintentional), a lot of people trying to give you reasons (which is a big no-no), but most of all, people just try to act like it didn’t happen because it makes them uncomfortable and THEY don’t want to deal with it. THAT is the worst, I think, because that baby is VERY real and was VERY much loved.
So just wanted to mention that, because unfortunately, it is a very real possibility for some couples that the support won’t be there if a miscarriage happens. And so for those of us who have it that way, it’s not an outdated Victorian fashion or ridiculous notion to choose to wait to announce and keep that joy in our own hearts for short time. Those babies are still very much celebrated, but at least in my case, I’ve learned to protect my own heart in the process as well. Losing a baby is hard enough, but dealing with people who don’t want to acknowledge that baby or want to “diagnose” you as to why it happened and repeatedly give you their two cents makes it all the more difficult.
I completely believe in talking about miscarriage more, and I am very open about our four losses. But at the same time, when the pain and grief is still very raw, I believe it’s important to do what’s best for MY heart at the time, and that’s often to just keep things to myself until they are easier to talk about, and that it’s OKAY to feel that way.
Brynna – You make a good point. Given you don’t know how everyone might respond to such news, and given the potential fragileness you may feel following such an event, opening up first (or only) to people you feel safe around… people who you trust to be gentle and supportive… makes a lot of sense.
Danyen, thank you for your comment and thoughts on this… and most of all, congratulations on the impending addition to your family! I suppose how people handle telling others about their pregnancy and God forbid the loss thereof is a very personal choice. I agree it should be one they make based upon what is best for them and not based upon outmoded practices. But that choice ultimate rests with them, the parents. I wish you and your growing family every blessing. 🙂
Thank you for this message. I truly believe that some of us feel we have to suffer our grief over a miscarriage in silence, because we have little or nothing by way of mementos. If we had a child who died after being born, we would have photos and keepsakes. A child who dies in utero, especially one who passes in the first trimester, is seen by some as “less than” and we as the parents are expected to just agree and get on with our lives.
I know that I make people uncomfortable with my unwillingness to pretend this child never existed in my life. When people ask if I have any children, I often respond with, “None living.” I will mention having been pregnant, and someone will say that they didn’t know I had a child, and I tell them that she died before she was born. I don’t pussy-foot around to make others feel better. This child, my child, existed and I refuse to pretend otherwise.
You should never be made to feel like this child never existed in your life, Sara. I’m glad you don’t “pussy foot” around peoples feelings on it. We all have been made to feel bad about talking about it for too long. Good for you. Yes, the lack of ceremony and mementos and validation from others makes it harder. I hoped at least in writing this post that we’d realize that we also have each other… and more than anything we are not to blame and we are not alone. *hugs*
Yes, and thank you for posting about it.
My Mom suffered two when I was a child.
Then my wife suffered two between our older and younger sons.
Even though (or perhaps especially because) I had worked for two years in a neonatal intensive care unit in my twenties, the loss was devastating to me as well as my wife.
The literature, the single person, the medical community, the happily fertile, the workplace… all conspire to frame this as little more than a passing medical condition: a lost pregnancy.
What no one imagines who hasn’t undergone it is that it isn’t a lost pregnancy to the parents. It’s not even a lost fetus. It’s a lost child.
We had names for each child, interacted with them in the womb just as we did with our two children who were born. All the same hopes, and relationships, and connections were forming with the two children who died as with the two who were carried to term. It doesn’t just “become” a child for us once it emerges from the womb.
To this day it is still jarring, given how close I am with my two sons, to remember the losses, and imagine that I was actually a dad FOUR times, not two. Similarly a big brother. I am just lucky that half of my children and siblings lived into post-partum relationships with me.
Anymore, I just assume that most parents I meet have actually been through some kind of irregular pregnancy.
I, as so many others sadly do as well, understand how you feel. My mother lost a child when I was 8, but neither she nor my father talked about it. So often that happens. And all told I’ve lost 5 children before my perfect little girl was born. So as you say I was a dad six times. I’m so grateful for the one we have… what is hard to imagine is all the great parents (parents because they had kids, though lost them) who never were able to have kids of there own? 🙁
Suffering in silence… that’s the perfect phrase for it. When I had my first miscarriage, I felt like I was the only one mourning for this baby without a name. I hadn’t actually told my husband we were expecting yet. Financially, we were struggling. Emotionally and career-wise, my husband was in a bad place. Although he suspected I was pregnant, he didn’t want to ask. I knew he didn’t want to hear. I wanted the news of our new addition to be nothing but joyous. When we got pregnant with our son, we had been married for three years and were in grad school. The news turned joyous quickly, but was not met with the welcoming this blessing truly deserved. I didn’t want a repeat or to add to my husband’s stress.
When I lost the baby… well, I was the only one who knew he or she ever existed. It was hard to tell my husband, and, although he was supportive, I still felt like I was the only one at the funeral (so to speak). We’ve had to miscarriages since then. The loses have actually completely stalled any efforts for having more children. I’m sure we’ll try again, but for now we’re preventing. I am still amazed at how taboo this subject is even though miscarriages are so common.
I wrote two posts about our first miscarriage when it happened. Losing Jordan (I had to name the baby to deal with it) set my life on a whole new path.
When a Heart Stops Beating: http://bit.ly/j0FNkj
More Than a Kiss: http://bit.ly/9RiuD9
Thank you, Ivy. I’m not sure what happened to my original reply to your post. I encourage others to visit your posts. You expressed yourself so well, with a visceral honesty that too many are frighted by. I read them this summer and just read them again. Thank you so much for sharing them with us.
I came across your site while googling the phrase “why dont people talk about miscarriage.” Tomorrow marks one year that I found out I was pregnant and unfortunately two weeks after this milestone, will be the one year anniversary of my first miscarriage…. It helps me to talk about it.. it helps to think about the baby I never knew.. it helps to talk about the baby as well… and it hurts when I think people have forgotten… I dont think of it just as a miscarriage, I lost my baby… a precious person who was made out of love and me and my there daddy and big sister miss that baby very much!!! Thank you for this blog and for allowing our voices to be heard and our feelings to be felt!!
I’m so very sorry for the loss of your baby. I’m glad you’ve found some comfort in talking to others who understand. Euphemistic or medical labels don’t help. We did lose a “precious person” as you say, a member of our family. But they are not forgotten. Not by us. I sometimes find I hang on too much of the sadness and fear associated with the loss of our three babies. Perhaps I am afraid if I let go of the sadness I’d be like letting go of them, but I know that’s wrong. We all must work to honor their memory, but do it in positive ways. Remember them for the joy they brought us, not the pain of an unavoidable loss. If they have the ability to wish for things (and I hope they do), I know they would wish for us to be happy.
Just wanted you to know that my experiences, combined with this post of yours, prompted me to do a post (with linky) on miscarriage in the very near future.
I just found your posts and left a comment. Thank you for writing about this as well. The more we all end this unnecessary conspiracy of silence the fewer people will need to go through it alone. *hugs*
We lost one between our beautiful girls. The heartbeat never came.We were sad. We prayed and on Baby 2’s due date we found out about . ur first Jordan means to defend from God. Claire means enlightened. We were given two healthy beautiful gifts! I believe the right thing happened. Without the miscarriage,Claire wouldn’t be here! My mom lost a baby too!
Lovely names. I know you’ll never forget them, but I’m so happy that you (like us) have your precious Claire.
Claire, before we found out about Claire! Our first. . . Jordan
Well I am going through my 5th miscarriage. I was 13 weeks 6 days when the heartbeat stopped. Because I am farther along it’s hard to find a doctor that will perform a D&E on me so earliest I can get it is Aug 30. The thought of carrying my dead baby around is so hard and what infuriates me is people going on with their lives. What about flowers or a dinner to get me thru this time??? I’m suffering yet everyone thinks it’s time for me to move on. The worst thing to say to a woman experiencing a miscarriage is “there must have been something wrong so it’s better this way.”. I feel so alone right now. I’m sad, angry, pissed off!!!! Thanks for sharing your story and letting us share ours.
Erin. I am so very sorry to hear of the loss and pain you are going through. I left a comment for a number of you before, but for some reason they never posted. I’m sorry, because what you wrote touched me deeply and deserved response. I cannot eve begin to imagine what you went through, carrying your dead child for so long waiting for the inevitable. How could anyone who’d not had that experience understand? My heart breaks for you… and for all of the parents suffering the loss of this piece of themselves. You are not alone. I hope you are healing physically, and that with time the emotions will soften a bit so you can feel the love and happiness that child brought you while here. They are never gone. I need to just top writing, because I don’t know what to say, but want so much to help.
My husband and I have lost Two babies. It is such a hard thing to go through. We have two beautiful and healthy children, our daughter 10 and son 5 but even so it feels like a part of me has died with the other two. We lost the first one sept. 13th 2010, I 13 weeks along but found out it passed away at 8 weeks, which was really hard considering we were at the doctors office looking at it on the ultrasound screen and its heartbeat was a perfect 154! We then lost our 2nd precious angel on Jan. 11th 2011, I was 6 weeks then. It has been so hard and I just cant seem to get myself together, and its even harder seeing people I know being pregnant and having their babies, I know that is wrong to feel that way but I honestly cant help feeling resentment towards them. It has been almost a year since our last loss and I have not been able to conceive again, for some reason or other. Its just a tough thing to have to go through and it never helped me knowing my mom and sister really didnt get it. They just kept saying, It wasnt a baby yet and They said My husband and I should not have been thinking of it as a baby, that if we would not have then it wouldnt have hurt us!
I am so sorry for everyones loss and hate that this has to happen to anyone!
I am so very, very sorry to hear of the loss of your two babies. And I’m sorry (well meaning though they may be) that your family discounts their lives in an attempt to make you feel better. Saying (as much as a guy can get it) I understand a bit having lost three ourselves is little consolation. Please just know that there are lots and lots of people to whom this sad event has happened. It’s not your fault, and don’t take the unfortunate things others say to heart. I understand your point about feeling jealous (though you don’t want to) of the others who are having babies with no problems. I’d like to suggest, if you’ll forgive advice, two things. One, some people who we all see having happy healthy babies lost several, but never spoke of it. There’s a bit of a conspiracy of silence on this. And two, as much as you can, try to celebrate the new life they are lucky enough to bring into the world. Hopefully if it’s what you want you will have more children, but I know you’ve not lost sight of how much your 10 & 5 year old children need you. Pour that extra love for the other two you lost into them for now. Sorry, sounded all preachy there. Forgive me. Grieve. It’s very fresh. Go through the pain to the other side. There is another side.
*hugs* ~Michael (aka: Daddy)
Man is precious and special being. Losing a child is a painful experience for parents. Discussion about feelings should be initiated to fight depression. Support system must also be present in the coping process.
We lost two this year…one in February at only four weeks who we named Riley and one in August at almost nine weeks (we’d even seen the heartbeat at eight weeks) who we named Paisley. I am expecting again and will be nine weeks on Sunday and we are hoping and praying this little one makes it!!
I’m keeping you in my thoughts and prayers, Rainey. I’m so sorry to hear of your loss of little Riley and Paisley (great names, btw). I’m not a doctor, so this comment should not be construed as medical advice, but a specialist suggested my wife supplement with progesterone during the early part of our fourth (and successful attempt). There are so many reasons a baby may be lost, so this may have nothing to do with your situation. I do wonder if it helped our little girl. Your doctor can monitor progesterone along with hCG levels. Sorry for unsolicited advice. Mostly I just wish you all much luck. You are in our thoughts and prayers.
Sending virtual *hugs*. However, I do think we’re the rare exception as many just aren’t able to talk about it.
I’m sure you’re right, Reyna. I’ll take the ♥ hugs! ♥ One cannot get too many of them.
I am sorry for your lost, i lost my baby i was five weeks in five day i found out i was haveing a baby on dec 16 i lost it dec 28 i just did not understand it ,its like it was here in it was gone i was so happy i did not have a name but i call it my little jelly bean because when you five weeks the baby so small so today it make a month cents i lost my jelly bean, but i no god dont make no mistake in everthing happen for a reason when i see someone with a baby i say to myself i wont a baby but its not going to take the place of my baby i lost i going to alway think about my jelly bean how it look would it look like me or my husbend but i guess i never no but you going to be fine just put god first in i will keep you in my payer stay bless because you are
I understand, Latoya. Even though time has now passed after loosing our three babies before our wonderful little (now 3 year old) girl was born, we’ll never forget them. They were real and they are missed. Thanks for your kind thoughts and prayers. I send the same back to you.
Thank you for this! It’s so true! No one speaks about it and yet so many people experience the pain of losing a child. We had two miscarriages before going full term with our second child, a beautiful little girl. We were so naive. We have a 3 year old son and were so blessed. Fell pregnant first month of trying and went full term with no problems so when we miscarried, especially the first time it was a real ‘surreal’ moment and particularly didn’t make sense. With the first pregnancy that ended in miscarriage we didn’t tell anyone. Wanted to wait until our scan but after we lost that one when we fell the 2nd time we did speak to family and friends. I’m so grateful we did because when it happened again, this time further along, we were able to speak openly about how we were feeling and get the help and support we so needed. A year later, our daughter was born! Plese don’t suffer in silence and don’t be afraid to grieve for your little one’s.
Thanks for sharing your story, Lisa. There are probably many reading this who don’t feel comfortable sharing their feelings and thoughts… and that’s totally fine, but I believe people like you talking about it online or in person can really make a difference to others suffering in silence. Thanks again!
We also lost three babies. The first two were around 5 weeks – it didn’t entirely seem real, and I just chalked it up to more infertility issues. Then the doctor showed us the sonogram with three healthy beating hearts. Triplets!
At 14 weeks, we saw another sonogram. But this time only two hearts were beating. Baby C was gone.
We have always called our little angel Baby C. And when the doctors told us our 27-week preemies wouldn’t have made it as long as they did with their departed sibling, I realized my mischievous little twins had been sent with their very own guardian angel. Today I wear a ring with three stones in remembrance. (I explained it in more detail in my blog post Confessions of a Guilty Mother:
That just made me tear up. I’m certain Baby C will be their guardian angel for ever. Love that you wear the ring with three stones. I’ll head on over to your blog in a moment. Thanks so much for sharing, Tricia.
I had a miscarriage and have found out so many people I know went through this too.
Being honest I did feel alittle angry with them because am very unhappy that miscarriage is treated like it’s a disease or something that they should be ashamed or embarrassed about.
This I personally feel is the reason why woman never speak of it. They feel that there less of a women if they can’t have a child, which is not true . It’s an awful situation to experience and miscarriage are very common, and women are aware of that, so why suffer through it without support?
When I had mine i wanted to be alone for a while, but after that I was ready to talk about it, but everyone avoided the subject, even when i mentioned it, they often try and change the subject or they go quiet.
Woman need to break this habit of not talking about it, it’s not healthy and ur only going to hurt yourself as ur suffer alone.
I intend to talk about my miscarriage to all my friends and family and when this subject is ever brought up, i will be jumping up and down to tell them all about my miscarriage , because I AM NOT ALLOWING THIS SUBJECT to be HIDDEN anymore.
I will do whatever it takes to break this nasty habit of hiding this and suffering in silence, we must support each other, if everyone hides there experiences then how can we ever learn from one another and support each other, lets share our experiences and help others.
Miscarriage is nothing to be ashamed or hidden, it’s very normal.
Maybe not all women hide this for negative reasons, but i personally feel this subjct needs to be discussed more often and not treated as the subject to aviod.
Well said, Rach. I’m very sorry for your loss. You’re right; miscarriage is nothing to be ashamed of or hidden, and it’s all too common. Thank you for sharing with others.
i had a miscarriage on February 7th 2012, it was what is called an Anembryonic pregnancy, it is quite rare, when the baby stops developing and in many cases exits the whom leaving the pregnancy sac behind.
i woke up one morning, bleeding excessively, fearing the worst (as anyone would) got rushed to the hospital and waited for answers.. i was convinced i already knew what had happened but was so relieved to find out after all the checks my whom was still very closed over and my little bump was safe and sound (no miscarriage had took place and no visible signs it was going to). 24 hours later, the next morning, i woke up to the worst crippling pain i have ever experienced.. back to hospital, repeat of yesterdays checks and everything was fine again.. i asked about the excessive bleeding and as everything looked fine, i was told not to worry about it and to ‘just rest’, however they booked me in for a week early scan the following week (i was 10 weeks, my 12 week scan was 2 weeks away but they brought it forward a week).. i spent the week quite positive as checks where fine and i didn’t really understand the various amounts of complications that are possible with a pregnancy.. my scan date came and me and my partner were excited to see our baby.. i remember laying on the bed like a kid at Christmas waiting patiently.. the doctor spent ages moving the camera back and forth, not saying a word, i was staring at the screen trying to understand what i was looking at, but i could just see grey, i still didnt understand as i had never seen a scan in my life.. i was asked to stand up and me and my partner where told to sit in a room, we sat waiting when the doctor came in to tell us no baby was found.. just a sac. it was only afterwards that i realized the room we sat in waiting for our scan results was full of grieving materials, miscarriage advice leaflets, pregnancy problems etc. and i still didnt figure it out till it was said aloud..
So it never sunk in for a good couple of days, i didn’t show any upset or sadness for at least 3 days, someone actually said ‘you have taken it quite well’ which really upset me, then it slowly started to sink in.. i use to have odd days (say about once a week) where i would cry my eyes out thinking, i just want my baby back.. then i would have a good few days where i would cope.. however as days go by now, my baby becomes every thought in my head, ive recently broke up with my partner and part of me only misses him because he is apart of my baby. The hardest part is the ‘unanswered questions’ .. what if.. i wonder.. boy or girl.. is the worst, give myself headaches wondering so much..
so ive come to the conclusion that if i turn my unanswered questions into, valuable memories.. i may have a way forward.. so ive decided to give my baby a name, however i had my heart set on a boys name and a girls name, just not a name suitable for both.. i will admit, i had my heart set on a little girl and my friend tells me, to choice my girls name, but ill always have it in the back of my head, what if my baby was a boy and im remembering him as a girl?
Also i feel as though people are judging me when i try and talk about my baby, like they feel as though i should move on.. so much so that i will not tell anyone i want to do things to remember him//her or gave my baby a name because im worried they will think im wrong for doing that..
i apologize for the amount i have typed, its just nice to share my story and know someone is listening and can hopefully give me their opinion as i only have my own thoughts and opinions at the minute because im unable to talk to people.
Thank you for sharing your story. I am so very sorry for your loss. As you hopefully know now, Anembryonic Gestation is a common cause of miscarriage. It’s nothing you did, and there was nothing you could have done. Because test continue to come back “normal” (the placenta begins to develop and secrete hCG), I must imagine finding out the truth must be very difficult psychologically; some women go for some time (e.g. all the way through the 1st trimester) not realizing they’ve lost their baby.
I can’t really know what you went through, what all women (and their partners) who lose children go through. Every person and situation is different. I’m happy to hear you’ve “made a decision to try to turn your unanswered questions into valuable memories.” I like that you’re giving your baby a name. The three we lost we just called Peanut, Sweetpea and Jellybean… the nick-names we were already using. But I think you should use whatever name you wish, and not worry so much if the gender is correct.
As for feeling people are judging you when you talk about your baby, I’d guess most really aren’t judging you (it’s easy to project our fears onto others). That said, many will be uncomfortable talking about it, and you may pick up on their discomfort. If someone’s not comfortable or seems negative, then talk to someone else who’s not. If you’ve read the comments above, many people understand what you’re going through.
Trying to “not think about it” isn’t going to make your feelings go away. I’m happy you shared, and got some of your feelings out. If you are concerned your thoughts may be obsessive, you could choose to decide to only think about them in 10 or 15 minute increments at set times during the day? And if you feel you are depressed, many employers offer limited anonymous no-charge therapy via outside agencies. Couldn’t hurt to talk to someone if you’d like.
p.s. I’m neither a doctor or a psychologist, so these are simply the opinions of a dad whose been there, as much as a dad can be. My thoughts should not be construed as, nor replace, medical advice.
Thank you Michael, means a lot that you replied and reassured me that im not wrong for how im feeling.. and that you and the rest of the people who have posted, understand the situation and we are all aware of each others hurt and sadness.
After a day of reflecting, i finally spoke about my feelings to my mother and it helped a lot, ive not been able to express myself to her about the situation which is odd because we are really quite close.
ive also decided on a name, ive not gone for a traditional child’s name but more of a nick name..
Sunshine 🙂 ‘My Little Sunshine’.
and tomorrow i am planting a tree in the garden in memory of my Sunshine, that way i have something physical to relate to him/her and hopefully i will then have closure on the unanswered questions 🙂
I’m so glad the talk with your mother went well, Laurin. Yes, while everyone is different, your feelings are very normal given such a loss. I love the name you chose for your Little Sunshine. That’s lovely. And I feel the tree is a wonderful idea, and a great way to celebrate in a tangible way your baby’s memory. The “closure” you mentioned doesn’t mean you are forgetting about or denying your baby existed, you are simply starting to let go of some of the pain associated your child’s memory.
my husband and i have miscarried three times now as well and people say it’s better to talk about it and that it makes everything easier…but people lie!!! Talking for me makes it harder to deal with everything. :/ But People you are not alone….we are thinking of adoption but just don’t know yet.
I’m sorry for everyone…
please say a prayer for us as we will for you too
Hello, Olivia. I am so very sorry for the loss of your three children. You make a good point. Everyone and every situations is different; as such not everyone will be helped by the same things. While I believe most will benefit from confiding in carefully chosen people, that clearly won’t be the case for all; especially if those one confides in say thoughtless (albeit usually well meaning) things. Sending prayers, warm thoughts and virtual hugs!
I had a miscarriage this past wednesday August the 1st. I had no idea I was pregnant until I woke up and saw the blood. I was about 7 weeks along. I guess I feel like I shouldn’t be so upset and heart broken over it because I had no idea I was even pregnant until I was losing the baby. I have a 18 month old son already. I guess I just don’t know how I should feel or how to deal.
I’m so sorry for your loss, Brittany. I suppose everyone feels and deals with this in their own way. If you feel like talking about it, clearly I’m supportive of that, but that’s up to you. Just know there are many, many women (and the men who love them) that are going through this all the time. You’re not alone, and I’m certain if you reach out to others, as you did in a small way with your comment here, they will largely be supportive. It may even help them. We’ll keep you and your little one in our thoughts. Sending big *HUGS!*
My name is Kelli, and my husband and I both have a daughter of our own and found it time to have a child together. We are in love and so happy! So, we decided to start trying. Soon, I got pregnant, in fact I found out on Valentines day this year. We were so happy and picked out a name right away, in hopes that it was a boy. His name would be Cooper. Only a week later we found out that I wasn’t pregnant after all and that the positive pregnancy test I had received was because I had recently miscarried and didnt even know it. What I had assumed was a normal menstral cycle was in fact a miscarriage. We were devistated and it all happened so fast, an emotional roller coaster within a matter of a week. We gave it a few months and low and behold I got pregnant again! I found out on the 4th of July. I mustv’e taken 15 pregnancy tests, one every few days because I just could not believe that I really was pregnant agian. I was just so afraid it wasn’t real. This time I was feeling all the pregnancy symptoms. Fatigue, cravings. We even let ourselves go to look at cribs. We were excited and decided that this baby would be named Alexander. Then, one day I spotted. I called the dr. and they said it was normal in early pregnancy and not to worry too much. I went in for my first appointment, I was 9 weeks. We went in, had the first ultrasound and to our disbelief, the doctor said the sac was empty and it looked as if I was only 5 weeks along. He said to come back in 2 weeks to have another ultrasound, but to prepare for the worst because there was a chance I could lose this baby soon. Sure enough within the next few days, I miscarried. I am so devistated, we both are. I don’t know how to process this grief. It seems to come in waves, sometimes out of nowhere. I am just trying to keep in mind that they are in heaven and my grandma is up there taking care of them both, Cooper and Alexander.
Hello, Kelli. How very difficult this must be for you. I’m so sorry for the loss of little Cooper and Alexander. I like the image of your grandma taking care of them in heaven. When we were finally blessed with our daughter after multiple losses, I imagined the little one’s that didn’t make it were (and still are) up in heaven watching over our wonderful little girl. I’m glad you decided to talk about it, and hope writing this down helped even if just a little. Talk to people you trust to be supportive, if you want. Your grief is very real and natural, and don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. It will better with time, but this many years later in our case, there are few days that go by I don’t think of them. Sending “hugs* across the wires. ~Michael
My brother and sister-in-law suffered a miscarriage, but my brother refused to talk about it. I feel like there’s a rift there because I lost my little niece or nephew.
That’s rough. I’m sorry, Paulo. I can understand your feelings, but we must respect the parent’s wishes concerning speaking about it. If you’ve offered and your brother has refused, then perhaps that’s the most you can do for now. Even if they do not wish to speak of it, they no doubt still need your love and support, so were it me, I’d try to repair the rift. That said, I’m no expert.
To open this space for parents to come together, so kind of you.
My love to your family.
I know for certain I lost one tiny life whose loss I grieved alone.
It wasn’t until years after my first loss that I even acknowledged that a life had come and gone.
For me my silence was always about not wanting to downplay other’s losses (more of them or farther along or more public). Kind of like you did, always ,3, but had a friend whi had 10. I always felt like I was supposed to be happy it wasn’t worse, but that was a lie. I could own my own pain and not compare it with others. This would not take away from other’s hardships.
Well said, Sarah. *hugs*
I had a miscarriage at only 12 weeks. But it was hard. I was nearing the end of my “safe maternal age.” My biological clock has just about run out. I’m 45 and never had the chance to be a Birth Mom. I am thankful, though, that I have been given the chane to be step mom to two beautiful girls. I’ll take it.
Hi, Sharon. I’m so very happy you have the two beautiful step-daughters. Still, I’m sorry to hear of your miscarriage. It’s never easy, regardless of the length of the term or the other things one has to be grateful for in their life. Thanks so much for your comment.
Thank you for this. My first pregnancy ended way to early and I was rushed in for a DNC. While waiting my Dr came in and sat down beside me, held my hand and told me her story. But to make a long story short she told me that sometimes a women’s body needs a miscarriage to clean everything out and be ready for a baby. Thank God she was correct. 4 months laiter I was pregnant with my beautiful Isabel. If it wasent for my little girl I don’t think I would b hear today. This is the first time I have talked about the miscarriage since it happened.
Thank you for sharing your story, Gussy. Despite your loss, it’s nice you can look back on it in a positive light. Your Dr was likely correct, though it does not make the loss of a child an easy thing just the same. I’m so happy for you and little Isabel. *hugs*
I was pregnant. This was to be my first child. I have never experienced the joy of holding my baby in warm, squirmy, life. Does this make it worse? No, it simply makes it my story.
I suffered a miscarriage one day before my 2nd trimester would have begun. I saw baby’s heartbeat only 12 hours before the pains began. As I sent my husband out for Tylenol, I came to the unsettling realization that I was in labor. I was in such severe pain, I couldn’t process the emotional pain.
I felt the pop and gush, as most women do around 38-40 weeks, I was at 12.
My pregnancy was over. As I gently held baby in the palm of my hand, I knew my life would never be the same. I surveyed baby without moving it, as I felt as if it would disturb him. I counted 10 beautiful fingers and 10 beautiful toes. I saw a perfect nose and a perfect head. I saw long arms and legs. I said my tearful goodbye and washed my face. I prepared for my husband to return from his Tylenol run.
I greeted him at the front door upon his return. I opened the door and said, “it’s over, babe.” I’ll never forget the look on his face at that moment. I think it surprised me, because I saw the emotional pain I was feeling, reflected on my husband’s face, but I couldn’t cry. I felt like I needed to be strong for my husband. Again, the physical pain was so bad, I couldn’t process it.
It’s been 6 months since that, the worst night of my life. I will remember every detail as long as I live. We named our baby Jack Edward only a few weeks ago. I hold him with me in my heart. My husband and I will carry the memory of what could have been. I can only hope that one day, we will be able to hold a baby in warmth and in life.
I share this with you all because I needed a place to share my story. I receive a lot of good support from my husband and mom, but that’s it. It is such a silent suffering, and it shouldn’t be. It’s difficult not to become bitter when we can’t receive the support we need from those closest to us.
To those of your reading who know someone who’s suffering. ASK THEM HOW THEY’RE DOING. Do not allow those you love to suffer alone. We already lost something that was to become of utmost importance, we don’t need to feel as if we’ve lost you too!
Your story breaks my heart, Stephanie. Thank you for sharing it and for sharing the memory of Jack Edward with us. I know you will never forget him. As for the “silent suffering” you mention, I hope others do take your advice and reach out to others, whether you are the one suffering or you see someone else suffering. *hugs*
Thank you for responding. It makes me feel less isolated. Our Jack would have been 3 weeks old this week and I miss him every day.
Since my last post, I have received some interesting gifts from family and I thought I’d share with you all. For Christmas, my Great Aunt made a donation in mine and my husband’s name to MissFoundation.org. My mother-in-law knitted a ‘sock’ or stocking that we can hang on the Christmas tree every year. She also gave me a charm in the shape of a heart. The front says, ‘JET’ for Jack Edward Thompson, and the back says, ‘Always.’ I wear it every day. Finally, I gave myself the best gift; I finally was able to finish Jack’s blanket. I started the blanket the week I knew I was pregnant. I set it aside for months because I was too heartbroken to finish it.
While the hurt is still ever-present, I feel less like dying every day. Mostly, I am a happy person, so people see the smile and assume for the best, which isn’t always the case. I was walking through the Christmas aisle after Thanksgiving and broke down in sobbing tears.
Now, I feel that I am allowing myself to be less angry at those people who aren’t attuned to my grief. I know that most of them will/can never understand what my husband and I went through. Nor would I ever wish this horrible tragedy upon anyone.
I find myself more and more ready to try again. I can only hope that the next pregnancy does not end in loss.
So, to all who are struggling with grief and heartache, please keep your collective chins up. People will be there for you, if you’re strong enough to admit you are hurting. Do something great for your child. Build them a memory box. Talk to them before bed. Buy a charm and keep them close to your heart always.
We are now in the sisterhood/parenthood that no parent ever wants to join. But we are bonded through our losses. We can either live on with the greatest memories of our few moments of joy, or choose to stay in the despair that our loss brought to us. No, this doesn’t mean forgetting, it simply means healing. And each feeling is an important step to healing. Don’t neglect yourselves. If you feel like crying, cry. If you feel like being mad, be mad. If you feel like smiling, smile.
Chins up, sisters and brothers! *HUGS, HUGS, HUGS*
Thank you so much for stopping back and updating us, Stephanie. I hope others who, as you say, are in the sisterhood/parenthood that no parent ever wants to join, will read your words and find some comfort they are not alone. And like little Jack Edward Thompson their little ones will never be forgotten, but through sharing with caring friends and family we may begin to heal.
Thank you for this. I’m so sorry for your loss and I do think it helps to share. While I wish you didn’t have to experience this situation, I appreciate your sharing it.
I lost my first pregnancy a little over a year ago. I was about 13 weeks and had complications from the get go. About 6 weeks in, I started experiencing some spotting and the Dr. had me go for an ultrasound to confirm I had a ‘viable pregnancy’. The ultrasound showed that everything was fine and that the baby was progressing on target and we even got some pictures of our little ‘Bean’. While I continued to have some spotting, the seemed no further danger. I had two monthly check ups at which times we heard the baby’s heartbeat but the Dr. kept me on pelvic rest (like bed rest, but I was allowed to walk and go to work, but that was about it). At about 13 weeks, the spotting got worse and the Dr. sent me for another ultrasound. This one was a completely different experience from the first. The ultrasound tech didn’t allow my husband in with me and kept the screen turned away from me the whole time. After she was done, she advised she couldn’t tell me anything because she wasn’t a Dr., and that my Dr. would be in contact with me shortly. On my way home, that is when the cramps started. It was at that time, I knew that i was losing our little ‘Bean’. I found out later when I spoke with the Dr. that our baby stopped developing at about 8 or 9 weeks, so even though I was 13 weeks along, the baby didn’t progress past 8 or 9. That night was the worst night. I stayed at home and cried through the cramps while my husband held me in his arms. I had to take a few days off of work, because they don’t provide bereavement leave for a miscarriage. This really hit me hard as this the child I lost was just as important to me as if I had carried him/her full term, yet he/she was not recognized by my work as my child yet.
I suffered from some post pardum depression and had my husband worried for a bit, but thankfully I had a very supportive family. I planned to wait to get pregnant again till I was ready, but God had different plans and I found out I was pregnant again only 1 1/2 month later. I wasn’t ready and I’m not ashamed to say that I cried when I found out. That being said, I’m lucky to say I have a happy and healthy baby boy and we love him deeply. Though I will never forget our first baby that we never had the chance to know. Even now, over a year and a healthy pregnancy later, I was crying reading yours and others’ stories and I am crying telling you about this. As with any loss, I will always grieve for our first baby but hopefully time will diminish the hurt.
The one thing that did help was knowing that I was not alone and that there were others who could understand my grief, though I did not know about them until after my loss. Thank you again for sharing with us and helping us to know that we do not need to grieve alone.
Hello Amanda. Thank you so much for sharing yours, your husband’s and most importantly little Bean’s story with us.
You said, “hopefully time will diminish the hurt.” For me at least, while I can’t say the hurt or longing to hold them has diminished much, what has diminished is how often I think about our babies Peanut, Sweetpea and Jellybean.
It’s been nearly five years since we lost the last of them. The deep ache in my heart is still here, but I experience it less frequently, and perhaps that’s as it should be. I’m so very happy to hear of your healthy baby boy, and it sounds like your husband is a really good man.
I like what you wrote here:
I hope your words will encourage other to talk about their stories, or at least read all of yours, and know we are not alone.
What a great post. Although it’s hard to admit, I always think what will be, will be. If my first pregnancy had gone ‘to plan’ my eldest daughter wouldn’t be here now. So for that, I am thankful
Thank you for sharing that, Susanne. I agree, of course. For those of us fortunate enough to have the joy of a healthy child after a number of losses, that child is certainly a great comfort. As you say, that perfect child might not be here if not for those other losses. BUT… when speaking with someone in the throes of recent grief due the the loss of a child, that message of hope may not be so well received? Might it best to simply listen, let them know you understand and that their grief is valid? I’m certainly no expert.
in september, after a year of trying, my husband and i found out we were pregnant. A few weeks later, i found out that i had whats called a subchorinic bleed. The doctors said it should heal on its own. well, I attended my brothers wedding on october 27th after the reception, i went back to my hotel room. my husband was not with me. he was pretty wasted and i couldn’t find him. I went to the bathroom having really bad cramping. mind you i was 12 weeks at this point.
As i sat down i started to bleed heavily and started having literal labor pains. this went on for an hour and a half. When I still couldn’t find my husband, i finally called my brother in law who rushed to the hotel to get me. At this time, my drunk husband finally came back to the room >:( he sat in the back seat w me as my brother in law and his girlfriend drove me to the ER. I had no idea that a miscarriage at 12 weeks was exactly like real labor.
I was not ready for that at all. So we get there, they rush me in and start examining me. They then proceed to tell me that they are not set up at all for labor or anything that has to do w childbirth! Either or, my husband passed out in the room and had to be moved in the car to sleep it off. Since they refused to give me anything for the pain until they had a confirmed miscarriage, I went through labor alone for 8 hours, with no support from my husband or family.
it was gross and traumatic. they finally called an ultrasound tech from another hospital who gave me an internal ultrasound (brutally painful) and confirmed it. By the time this happened, I had passed everything and the pain was bearable. The emotional pain, is overwhelming. The fact that my husband wasn’t even there and has no idea what I went through is awful. We never talk about it, nor can he give any support cause he wasn’t there. I am very upset at this.
i asked him not to get drunk because there was a possibility that i could miscarry and he utterly let me down. He should have been there for me and he wasn’t and i didnt deserve that. I find myself not being able to get over it because i feel like i have no outlet. I am an army wife and i moved from massachusetts to colorado in june. it was the first time in my life that i ever left new england. I have no family here at all except my husband.
i feel like no one wants to hear about it. My husband has let me down so much and im not sure he knows just how disappointed in him i am. i feel isolated and alone and unimportant. I don’t hail from a n emotional family either, so all they said was “its not even anything yet so its for the best” Having it undermined like that from everyone makes me confused as to why i’m so sad over it. I do have a 3 yr old boy who is my everything.
I cannot even fathom the depth of pain and isolation you must feel. Please forgive unsolicited advice: If you are not already in marital counseling, I’d strongly recommend you consider it. And perhaps more importantly, I’d also recommend talking to a counselor, just you by yourself.
I’m reading between the lines, but in addition to the anger you feel for your husband, you sound as though you could be depressed. For your own sake and that of your little boy, it’s important you take care of yourself. It’s sort of like when the flight attendant on airplanes tells you to put the oxygen mask on yourself before helping your child with theirs. I’m so sorry you went through something so painful, and heart-breaking ostensibly alone.
And I’m sorry you’ve not gotten the support you needed afterward from your family. Many say thoughtless things in a misguided attempt to help. I hope you’ll consider getting some help, or at least call a trusted girlfriend (some cell calls are free after certain hours?) and talk about it. You are not as alone as you feel, but I can certainly understand why it must feel that way. Sending hugs, prayers and positive thoughts.
Wow. I am so glad to read this. I have suffered this loss twice this year and am just peeking my head out on sharing that. With this comment!
The first was “Dos.” (We have one perfect son already.) The second hadn’t gotten a nickname yet.
We are trying, again, always trying. And I feel so much more hopeful suddenly. I knew that we weren’t alone, but didn’t know how utterly *not alone* we are.
Thanks for this.
You are so very welcome, Heather. It happened to us three times before our beautiful daughter arrived safe and sound. At first we thought we were alone, too, and that this didn’t happen to others. But it does, and more often than we know. I’m so very sorry to hear of your two losses (“Dos’ and the second). Not to take anything away from them (because they are very real and will never be forgotten), but I’m happy to hear of your healthy son, and wish you and your husband much luck as you try for more. Please stay in touch.
I am so glad to have read that today. My husband and I were scheduled for our first ultrasound to meet our baby for the first time, this morning actually… This was our first pregnancy… However, I lost my baby just two days shy of 7 weeks.
I think in a way it is taboo to talk about miscarriages because I think a lot of people assume that you can move on from it… but it isn’t that easy.
I don’t understand why one would have to suffer in silence… I wasn’t terribly vocal or told the whole world I was pregnant – but enough knew that it was painful to say I lost the baby. The ones who reached out to me and acted like I LOST something – meant the most to me. Those were the same people who have gone through it before.
It is so painful to see friends of mine make big announcements on facebook, or what have you on their little “summer baby” – well we wanted to that too… but we don’t get to. 🙁 I guess for me, it is going to be an off and on with the emotions.
Hello, Meg. I’m so very sorry for your and your husband’s loss. What you said, above is something people who have not been through it can’t fully understand. Our precious little babies, no matter how small or early in the pregnancy, were real. And as you say, the people who reach out and acknowledged that very real loss mean the most. We’ll keep you, your husband and your little baby in our thoughts and prayers. *hugs*
I lost our baby on March 11, 2012, while on a vacation trip. I was six weeks along. My husband doesn’t acknowledge that I was ever pregnant and doesn’t believe I miscarried. Since my cycles had been irregular, he thought I was having an exceptionally bad time. Later I explained about it, but the emotional support from him has not been there. The vacation we take is an annual one to the same place, so he can attend a sporting event. I don’t want to go next year. He said, “You didn’t feel well or got your cycle last year, right?”
I am still having a very hard time processing all of my grief. My miscarriage fell on the one-year anniversary of my Dad’s death. I named our baby Einin Adair. My husband just wants to go on vacation. I suppose you coud say the grief is crazymaking.
I couldn’t help but notice you opened your comment with, “I lost our baby”. To be clear, both you and your husband lost your baby, though I understand he doesn’t believe you. And if the phrase “I lost” includes any measure of guilt over your loss, however common it might be to feel that way, it was not your fault. It must be very difficult not to have your loss acknowledged by your husband. Perhaps it’s his way of dealing (or not dealing with his own feelings about it). If he’s unwilling to discuss it, perhaps talking to a trusted friend, or a counselor (the health benefits of many businesses offer a number of free confidential visits), or a clergy member might allow you the chance to express your grief and have it acknowledged. I’m so very sorry for the loss of both Einin Adair and your father the year before. I hope the New Year brings you healing and much renewed happiness. *hugs*
First I want to say Thank You for sharing your story. I was only 8 weeks along and it was an unexpected pregnancy but we were over the moon excited that we might finally get our little girl. We have 2 little boys and both pregnancies were normal and healthy so we had no reason to think any different this time around. When I called my dr to schedule my first appt they told me my due date was 2/28/13. I was immediately shaken by this date, it is the day my mother passed away going on 12yrs. My immediate thought was this wasn’t going to be good. Then the next morning at 5:30 I woke up to immense cramping. I went to the bathroom and I was bleeding. I knew at that moment I was losing my baby girl. I called the dr’s office and they tried to comfort me by saying this can be perfectly normal at this stage and it could be nothing to worry about. They said if I continued bleeding or cramping the next day then to call and we would run some tests but to take an easy and not to worry. My first thought was don’t worry they are crazy, how am I not suppost to worry?? The next day I was still bleeding but not as much, but they wanted me to go and do some tests. My levels weren’t very high, but wanted me to go back in a couple of days and repeat the tests. So I did and my levels didn’t move, so I had to go back and the numbers dropped but not how they wanted so I had to keep going back until my numbers were at zero. I found out the day after my birthday my levels were at zero and so no more baby. I kept up a very strong face and suppressed my feelings. My husband was having such a hard time with the miscarriage. He blamed himself for me having to go through this because he didn’t get the vesectomy. I told him it wasn’t his fault it just wasn’t meant to be and I was okay. But he is an amazing husband and he could see right through my tough act. I was doing a pretty good job holding up the tough exterior, but on the inside I was falling apart. The past couple of months i’m just hanging on by a thread. I don’t recognize the person I see in the mirror. I have gained about 35-40lbs and I don’t take care of myself like I used to. I quit going to the gym and I make up excuses to not leave my house unless I have to go to work or pick up my kids from school and daycare. The closer my due date is approaching the worst I am doing. I have been on the same medication since my mom passed away and I don’t think it is working anymore. I have made an appt with a therapist because I just can’t continue on this way. I don’t know how to let go of the guilt I feel. I feel like if I would of only had more of a positive attitude about the date then it wouldn’t have happened. I feel like my thoughts made me lose my little girl. I know in my head this is ridiculous thinking, but I can’t make my heart understand that. I’m hoping talking with someone will help me. A very good friend suggested I go see a psychic. I did this a couple of days ago and it really did help me. She said it was a little girl and she had some problems in the chest area. She said my baby girl chose to be our angel. Our little girl would of suffered and she didn’t want to put us through seeing her so sick. The psychic told me to name her so we used our only girl name we ever had Ella Lynn. She said our little Ella is with her Grandma. It did give me some peace, but I still can’t get rid of this guilt i’m feeling. Hopefully the therapist will be able to help me with letting go of the guilt i’m feeling. I’m so sorry for your wife and your loss. Thanks for sharing your story.
Hello Heather. I’m am so very sorry to hear of you and your husband’s loss of little Ella Lynn. I feel it’s good you are planning to see a therapist. I’m not a doctor, so my next few comments shouldn’t be construed as medical advice, but it sounds as though you are almost certainly depressed. It is, of course, perfectly natural for you and your husband to feel sadness at such a significant loss, but if it continues for too long it may indicate it’s turned from situational depression to clinical (chronic) depression. Cognitive behavioral therapy (CBT) might help you control some of the thoughts that contributing to your sadness and (inappropriate) guilt.
What happened was not your fault in any way, and absolutely did not have anything to do with your concerns about the due date. Regardless if one does or does not believe in psychics, she was correct in saying your little girl was unwell in some way, and was spared any pain or suffering by her passing. Her comment that your baby girl “chose to be our angel” may be a good way to look at it. It comforted us to imagine the little babies we lost were watching over our little girl who is now a happy, healthy 4½ year old. The changes in your thoughts after visiting the psychic, e.g. the acknowledgement this wasn’t your fault, that your little girl was spared suffering and is now your little angel, show how changing thoughts can help. That’s why I think CBT or other therapy may be helpful.
Forgive me for restating that I’m not a doctor or therapist, and nothing I say here should take the place of seeking advice from your doctor or other medical professional. It might also be worth visiting your doctor (or whomever prescribed your current meds) and let them know you feel they are not proving effective any longer. Perhaps they will have an alternative suggestion. Regardless, you mentioned knowing, in your words, “this is ridiculous thinking”, but you can’t make your heart understand that. It sounds like you know that it’s your thoughts that are causing your “heart” to feel as it does. Depression is a very real condition, and you owe it to yourself, your boys and your husband to take this seriously and seek help right away.
I wish you a speedy return to a life of joy and happiness. *Hugs*
p.s. I just realized I did the typical guy thing, where instead of just listening and comforting you, I tried to “fix it”. Sorry about that. I hope you feel much better soon. 🙁
This post was FANTASTIC. I recently had a miscarriage, and was afraid to tell my husband, because I just didn’t know what to say. It was a very early one (I didn’t even know that I was pregnant) but it still makes me sad. I’m so glad I found your blog on the blog party 🙂
Hi Abby. I’m so sorry for your loss. Only you know how your hubby would deal with it, but I’d certainly want to know. I’d want to be there for my wife, and also it’s the husband’s loss as well. Being early doesn’t necessarily make it easier. I hope you are doing well now. Sorry for my delay responding. I just found I had some comments I’d missed somehow. Glad you found me, too!
I was almost 10 weeks when we miscarried. It took us almost a year to get pregnant and within minutes our dream was crushed. It is the most emotional pain I have ever experienced. Not many people knew we were pregnant so you do suffer in silence. I am angry and sad as I see other people with kids and wonder why it has to be such a hard and painful journey for us.
I wrote a long response to you, but somehow it didn’t get posted. Sorry. Yeah, there’s nothing fair about who loses a child or not. It’s easy to get angry about those truly bad, uncaring parents that have kids… and the unfairness of those wonderful want-to-be parents who cannot. It’s best not to dwell on that. I am so very sorry for your loss and the challenge this has been for you. More people understand than you may realize. We’ll keep you in our prayers.
We are grieving our first miscarriage (lost at almost 9 weeks) after having 3 healthy, successful pregnancies and births resulting in our sweet little boys, Dominic (Peanut), Isaac (Sweetpea) and Samuel (Jellybean) – our twins – and our baby girl Abigail (Pickle). I thought it was eerie that your angels have the same nicknames as our living children. So far our little angel is known as Gumdrop. I’m hoping to name him or her, but we shall see. After this happening I’ve realized how little anyone ever talks about it. Like you, even though I’ve read the statistics how many times while reading about pregnancy stuff 3 times now, I never realized how common it really was. I never thought it could happen to us. We’ve never had to try really hard to get pregnant (scarily easy sometimes) and all 3 pregnancies were uneventful and healthy. And then our world fell apart in one day. I’m grateful we had shared our news; when sharing the sad news it gave us a large response of support. I’m grateful whenever I can find anything online of people sharing their own experiences. It helps to not feel so alone in my grief. Thankfully my faith has held up and I feel God with me during all of this and of course my amazing and wonderful husband is nothing but a rock.
Thank you for taking the time to share your story. I’m so sorry for the loss of your little Gumdrop. As i read what you wrote I was also struck by the fact you three healthy children had the same pet names as our little angles. I suppose they care quite common things to call one’s week babies. I’m very happy the response to you sharing your lose has been largely positive. While you’d think it should be, sometimes people don’t know how to response, or will respond in unintentionally thoughtless ways. And of course having that amazing husband of yours at your side appears to have helped a lot as well. I’m glad. Thanks again for stopping by and sharing. Many read the comments on this post, and even if they don’t want to share (which is totally fine, of course) I like to think it helps them feel not so alone. *hugs*
I’m a few years out from my miscarriage now. Three, it’s hard to believe.
I wrote this about why I think everyone should talk about miscarriage – if they want to, of course: http://howbabbyformed.blogspot.com/2013/08/why-everyone-should-talk-about.html I guess what I mean is that no one should feel they can’t talk about it…
I know, time does pass. Until you said that, I’d not thought about how long it’s been for us. Thanks for sharing the link to your post. Here’s how it starts, for any of you that might want to go read it (I recommend you do, btw):
Thank you for sharing your perspective as a dad. I am so sorry that your family experienced your losses.
My miscarriage happened on New Year’s Eve. My daughter Alaska Eileen was my third child. I had no indications of any problems until my appointment at 15 1/2 weeks when we found out that she had died.
I share my story through my blog because, like you, I feel that we should not have to suffer in silence.
Blogging through my grief at http://lostinterrobang.blogspot.com
I’m sorry for your loss of Alaska Eileen, Samantha. Thank you for sharing… and for writing about your experience on your blog. Hopefully it will both help you heal… and help others who sadly understand your loss all too well. *hugs*
My goodness, my heart goes out to you and your wife (actually, to everyone who’s been so affected) – I can hardly think of something worse to go through.
A family friend who had a miscarriage had a terrible experience where someone had told her something along the lines of “well, it wasn’t born yet, so it wasn’t a baby so what’s your problem?” Of course that left her devastated and afraid to open up to anyone else.
I don’t understand why it seems to be a bit of a taboo subject to talk about, and horrible experiences like above certainly don’t help. I’m positive that more talking out emotions and compassion would be r beneficial.
Thank you, Paul. People often say things to people going through grief (regardless of cause of that grief) that are horribly thoughtless. But as the world “thoughtless” implies, it’s rarely intentional or meant to make the sufferers burden worse. That said it’s simply horrible the added pain they inflict. They simply never take the time to consider their words and the impact they have. Telling a parent who just lost their unborn baby… the baby they had been praying for, that they had cherishing every day as the mother’s tummy grew, that they had felt her little kicks, and started his college fund, taped lists of baby name ideas to the fridge, painted the nursery pink because you just knew it was going to be a girl, imagined every day how that baby would feel in their arms, the baby that had just been ripped from their hearts… telling that parent that it “wasn’t really a baby yet” is unconscionably insensitive. If you don’t know what to say… SAY NOTHING and give them a hug.
Great to see how well yuou and your wife have coped with your experience. You are an example of resilience and grit and determination – much respect mate!
Thank you, Bren. It’s sad so many suffer in silence thinking they are alone or that they did something wrong.