Miscarriage.
Last week was 6 years since my miscarriage. 6 years is a fair amount of time, and in the years that have passed, at lot has happened, and I have grown and learned to understand why that pregnancy ended the way it did. In recent years I haven't been so upset by the anniversary, but have looked back on the memory as a stepping stone to the wonderful, amazing life I have now. This year, however, I looked at it from a whole new perspective, a parents perspective; and this made the anniversary harder than it's been in a long time. Never before on September 10th, had I known what it meant to be a parent, now I do, and my heart felt heavy. I truly longed to know what that baby would have been like, but I felt like I couldn't vocalise that. I didn't want to seem ungrateful for what I have now, because Poppy and Steve are my entire world, and I wouldn't have them if not for the way things turned out, but that was an incredibly hard thing to feel. I suppose it would have been even harder to explain.
All day I wanted to tell someone how I felt, just share my thoughts, maybe have a hug... but I didn't. Instead I found myself wondering why I didn't. Or couldn't. Maybe deep down I didn't want to, but I don't know. The day has passed now and I was fine with a hug from Steve at the end of the day.
It got me thinking though. Why do people find miscarriage to be such a taboo subject?? Miscarriage is, sadly, an all too common event. About one in every four pregnancies ends this way and another one in 100 pregnancies is ectopic, so I don't understand why there's such a stigma around it; I never have understood that. People often say they don't know what to say to someone who has suffered a miscarriage; that it makes them feel awkward or uneasy. Maybe if it was a more open topic, people wouldn't have the worry about saying the right thing. Maybe people wouldn't feel awkward and would see how therapeutic it is for some people to talk about it and share their feelings and experience. Maybe all someone needs is a hug, but how do you explain why you need a hug when your explanation makes someone back away.
If you don't know what to say to someone, just listen. Try not to judge or be cliché with statements like "there's always next time" or "it'll get better in time". They don't always help. Yes it will get better, time is a healer, and I personally learned that everything happens for a reason, but that isn't the case for everyone. If you've experienced loss of any kind, you probably know that hearing "give it time", doesn't help at all.
If you find yourself on the end of someone's miscarriage story, just try to listen (if you can), be there for them. Have a hug ready, or a cuppa, or some chocolate, or some vodka! But what will really help, is listening. And maybe the more people listen, the less people will be afraid to talk about it.
In the early months (and years) following my miscarriage I took a lot of comfort from The Miscarriage Association (http://www.miscarriageassociation.org.uk/), but in recent years, I haven't needed that level of support any longer, and have backed away from the groups. They did their job, they supported me and I made some life long friends (all of whom have gone on to have their rainbow babies now, yey). To be fair, I am incredibly lucky that my family and friends have always, always been supportive and there for me. I am one of the lucky ones.
A few years ago I got involved with a campaign with the MA where we shot a calendar for Miscarriage Awareness; it got people talking AND raised money towards important research. I will always endeavour to be part of the Break the Silence movement, because I will always have my star in the sky spurring me on.
Maybe my voice will make a difference, maybe it won't, but I will always keep trying. What if we all tried. Imagine the difference we could make together...
All day I wanted to tell someone how I felt, just share my thoughts, maybe have a hug... but I didn't. Instead I found myself wondering why I didn't. Or couldn't. Maybe deep down I didn't want to, but I don't know. The day has passed now and I was fine with a hug from Steve at the end of the day.
It got me thinking though. Why do people find miscarriage to be such a taboo subject?? Miscarriage is, sadly, an all too common event. About one in every four pregnancies ends this way and another one in 100 pregnancies is ectopic, so I don't understand why there's such a stigma around it; I never have understood that. People often say they don't know what to say to someone who has suffered a miscarriage; that it makes them feel awkward or uneasy. Maybe if it was a more open topic, people wouldn't have the worry about saying the right thing. Maybe people wouldn't feel awkward and would see how therapeutic it is for some people to talk about it and share their feelings and experience. Maybe all someone needs is a hug, but how do you explain why you need a hug when your explanation makes someone back away.
If you don't know what to say to someone, just listen. Try not to judge or be cliché with statements like "there's always next time" or "it'll get better in time". They don't always help. Yes it will get better, time is a healer, and I personally learned that everything happens for a reason, but that isn't the case for everyone. If you've experienced loss of any kind, you probably know that hearing "give it time", doesn't help at all.
If you find yourself on the end of someone's miscarriage story, just try to listen (if you can), be there for them. Have a hug ready, or a cuppa, or some chocolate, or some vodka! But what will really help, is listening. And maybe the more people listen, the less people will be afraid to talk about it.
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| My image from the calendar... I was Miss November |
In the early months (and years) following my miscarriage I took a lot of comfort from The Miscarriage Association (http://www.miscarriageassociation.org.uk/), but in recent years, I haven't needed that level of support any longer, and have backed away from the groups. They did their job, they supported me and I made some life long friends (all of whom have gone on to have their rainbow babies now, yey). To be fair, I am incredibly lucky that my family and friends have always, always been supportive and there for me. I am one of the lucky ones.
A few years ago I got involved with a campaign with the MA where we shot a calendar for Miscarriage Awareness; it got people talking AND raised money towards important research. I will always endeavour to be part of the Break the Silence movement, because I will always have my star in the sky spurring me on.
Maybe my voice will make a difference, maybe it won't, but I will always keep trying. What if we all tried. Imagine the difference we could make together...
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