Last week I found out that I lost my second baby. I was nine weeks pregnant, and I learned that the baby had stopped growing at six weeks.
I was out of town at the time visiting family, getting ready to share the good news, when I had to go to the ER and was given the sad news.
I had to call my husband, who was not traveling with me, and tell him over the phone. A little over a week later, I’m back at home and recovering from a D and C today. I chose to have a D and C because it had been four weeks since the baby had stopped growing inside of me, and I needed closure. I also am a planner so I needed to know what the next step was so I could move on both emotionally and physically.
Aside from being a planner, I’m also a person who opens up about things that are bothering me, and for some reason this is not something people talk about very openly. It’s nothing to be ashamed of as it happens to 1 in 7 women and there is nothing I, or anyone else, did wrong to make this happen. But still it seems to be a taboo subject.
When I started telling people that I had miscarried, more and more of my family and friends opened up about their own experiences. This made me sad for them, as I now understand what they went through, however, it also made me feel better in a way. It made me feel like I wasn’t alone, that if they could get through this and move on to have other beautiful children, so could I.
Oddly enough, in the news last week, Mark Zuckerburg announced that he and his wife are expecting but have also experienced multiple miscarriages. I appreciate him opening up about his and his wife’s experiences and hope that others will feel they can do the same when they’re ready.
I am fortunate because I already have one healthy, happy son. If I never have another baby, I will be okay because of him. He has brought me back to reality after this loss because he has no idea what is going on, and is wrapped up in his toys, or cartoons, or whatever is keeping him occupied in that moment (as he should be). I still need to be here for him and be his mom. No time to grieve, at least not for too long.
I keep explaining it to my close friends as a loss in the family, without ever having met the person. When we lose a family member to death, we are allowed to grieve, even in public, why is this loss any different?
My hope as a mother, as a woman, as someone who has gone through a miscarriage is that we can all be more transparent about these things when they happen. Everyone is entitled to take the time they need to heal after something tragic, but just like we speak about breast feeding (or not to), pregnancy joys and pains, I hope we too can discuss miscarriages and how we feel with the people we love.
I don’t want anyone to feel sorry for me. I am certainly not the first or the last person to go through this, just one of many. I just wanted to open up about my own experience in hopes that it will give others an outlet (if they need or want one) to discuss and find closure in their own way.