Healing after Miscarriage
My fiancé and I found out that we were just under 5 weeks pregnant just over a month ago, it was unexpected, and unplanned, but we accepted it and wanted it. Both his parents and my parents do not have grand children yet, so therefore they were more than excited to hear the news.
Just over a week later, we had a miscarriage. I had to tell so many people that we lost our baby, along with that loss I have lost my faith and I want to blame someone, I cannot seem to be ok. I show everyone around me that I am coping really well with it, yet inside I do not want to try again because I cannot stand the pain.
Everyone keeps telling me that everything happens for a reason, and then I blame myself thinking that I was the reason it did happen. I ask myself if I had wanted him more, if we would still be pregnant? I keep asking myself what I could have done? I want the hurt to stop, I want everyone to stop telling me it happened for a reason.
When will I be able to come to terms that we are no longer expecting our bundle of joy?
I am so very sorry to hear about your loss.
You ask how long it will take you to come to terms with this tragedy. Everyone is different. I suspect you will always grieve losing this baby, but that over time it will no longer dominate your moods and your life. Every year, you will notice this date, and maybe light a candle and have a short conversation with this baby you never saw. But if you think of your life as a pie, your grief will become one slice of that pie, rather than the whole pie.
Letting yourself cry and mourn, both with your husband and without him, will help you to heal. You are mourning a very real loss. The challenge with grieving a miscarriage is that women often feel they have to “show everyone around me that I am coping really well with it.” With any other loss, you probably wouldn’t feel the need to show the world that you aren’t suffering.
With any other loss, you would also have had the “support” of a funeral and a community to help you through. Many couples who have suffered miscarriages say that a private “funeral” ritual helped them come to terms with the loss. Planting a tree, blessing a special pendant you will always wear, or finding a statue of an angel to keep in a special place in your house or yard can all be healing memorials to your baby, and can help make the pain more bearable.
You and your husband both suffered a tragedy. You’re in mourning. It’s important to talk about your loss, and support each other, and be careful not to blame each other. As with any other major loss, you will both feel a range of feelings, from sadness to anger to hopelessness. Anger, and wanting to blame someone, is one of the stages of grieving. So is bargaining, and asking what you could have done to prevent the miscarriage. You will probably also find yourself depressed at times, which is a more hopeless, bitter place than sadness.
All of these are normal stages in processing grief. You can expect to cycle through them – not necessarily in any particular order – returning to each more than once. Honor all your feelings, and don’t feel like you have to put on a brave face for the world. If well-meaning people tell you to “buck up and try again” just say “I need some space to grieve first. Everyone has their own timetable for grieving.” Then change the subject or excuse yourself. You don’t owe anyone an apology for your grief.
As you no doubt know, most miscarriages don’t happen for any reason that doctors can explain. Losing your baby was not your fault, and nothing could have prevented the miscarriage. Loving and wanting a child does not prevent a miscarriage. When people tell you that everything “happens for a reason” they are trying to make you feel better. The truth is that losing a pregnancy, like losing a five year old, is a tragedy, and telling parents the loss must have happened for a reason is rarely consoling. Finding meaning in the tragedies of our lives is a very personal process, intertwined with the equally personal ebbs and flows of faith. You would be an unusual person not to question your faith at this time.
In closing, I want to recommend a terrific book that you might find helpful: A Silent Love: Personal Stories of Coming to Terms with Miscarriage, by Adrienne Ryan.
I wish you and your husband the solace of healing in your own space and time.
Dr. Laura
Ask the Doctor RSS
If I ever experience a miscarriage again, I'm not going to try to feel better by convincing myself that I'm better off without a child.
Maybe I'm still cycling through "anger" in the grieving process? :)
I hope this helps anyone who wonders what to say to someone who has had a miscarriage. :)
I got married in August 1992. I had my future all planned out: to enjoy married life for a year and then start a family in late 1993. Everything was going according to plan--I was pregnant in late 1994 and my baby's due date was May 1995. My husband and I were elated! I loved and wanted this baby with all my heart and soul. Unfortunately I was having a rough pregnancy and felt sick all the time. I was very worried if my baby was going to be OK. You know what they say about the 1st trimester, that your baby is most vulnerable, and if you get past the 1st trimester then you're out of the "danger zone." So finally, when I reached the 13th week of pregnancy, I felt so happy and relieved that my baby will be OK. Then the sad/bad news came. I started spotting (blood). I panicked and called my doctor. She asked me to come in for an ultrasound. After the ultrasound, she confirmed that I'm having a miscarriage, that although I was 13 weeks pregnant, the size of the baby was only 11 weeks which means the baby stopped growing or died at 11 weeks. I was devastated! I was crying so hard in the doctor's office, but I couldn't control myself. I felt as though suddenly the sky crashed down on me. All the way home I cried and cried for many hours until I felt there were no more tears left for that day. I was sad, heartbroken, disappointed, angry, frustrated, and ashamed--all rolled into one.
The miscarriage happened just a few days before Thanksgiving. So for that Thanksgiving I was disheartened and sad; I was in no mood to celebrate; and I felt I had nothing to be thankful for, so I skipped Thanksgiving that year. In front of friends and family I pretended I was fine, but in private moments I cried and cried. I couldn’t talk about it with anyone. I then started blaming myself, that it was all my fault; that maybe if I did things differently my baby would still be alive; that maybe if I took better care of myself, if I wasn’t feeling so sick all the time, maybe my baby would be fine, etc., all the big “IF’s.” I was so heartbroken over my loss and blamed myself so much that I couldn’t move on, to the extreme where I was afraid to get pregnant again in fear of re-living another miscarriage. So I tricked my mind by telling myself and believing that I would make a terrible mom anyway, that this world is a terrible place to raise a child anyway, that I do not want kids, and that I’m better off without kids, etc.
I wasted 4 plus years living in this fear. Finally, because of the age factor, I had to honestly ask myself and decide, before it was too late, that if I went through life without kids would I be happy? If that was what I really wanted? I then realized “No. I do want kids. I would feel empty if I went through life without ever being a mom.” So I gathered enough courage to try again, but I was very afraid, all the memories of the miscarriage came flooding back in my mind. I felt I didn’t have the strength to endure another miscarriage.
I have a happy ending. The second pregnancy was also very difficult, but in April 2000 I gave birth to a happy, healthy and vivacious little girl. My daughter is now 9 years old. Although I still think about my unborn baby--wondering if my baby was a boy or girl, counting his/her birthday, or wishing my daughter had an older brother or sister—there is not a single day that goes by where I don’t feel grateful or extremely blessed to have my daughter in my life; the joy that she has brought and continues to bring to me far outweigh any pain or suffering that I may have to endure.
In hindsight, this is my advice:
1) It is sad and unfortunate to have a miscarriage, but life does go on, and so you should move on.
2) Do NOT blame yourself. Do NOT feel ashamed. It is NOT your fault. You did NOT do anything wrong to deserve it. You did NOT ask for it. There is NOTHING you could have, would have, should have done differently to prevent it.
3) It is OK to cry, for as long as it takes, and it is OK to let others know that you’re hurting.
4) It is a very helpful healing process to talk about your miscarriage with other women who have children or who are sensitive enough to understand. You will be surprised to learn that at least 8 out of every 10 women have had a miscarriage at least once or know of other women, either family members or friends, who have had a miscarriage.
5) I hope you won’t waste as much time as I have!
Take care and God bless.
to starting a family after 3 years of marriage. Growing up, I can never recall a time when she showed her pain. Although, as a small child, you probably tend not to recognize when others are in emotional pain. Reading the posts shows me how real that pain
is. I suspect that if it even happened to me, I would be utterly heart-broken. I think the thing that I will always admire about her is that she never gave up or blamed herself. When I was 13 years old, she was pregnant yet again. We sort of learned not to
get too excited about it. I will never forget when she passed the 3 month mark and she was still pregnant! My brother and I asked her every morning after that, "How is the baby?". She gave birth to a beautiful girl and got pregnant again a few months later
at the age of 39 and gave birth to another beautiful girl at a birth weight of 11 pounds! She is a diabetic which is why we were all big babies, but not nearly as big as the baby of the family. They are now 14 and 15 years old. They are healthy and stunning
girls with very mature attitudes. They are the JOY of all of our lives and we are SO grateful that God gave them to us after such a difficult period. My brother and I are very protective over them and try to be involved in their life as much as possible. I
think one of my mom's life messages here is: Don't give up and don't let despair paralyze your future. I understand it will take time to heal but when the storm is over, look at life with a fresh pair of eyes and try again.