So you have heard my story, now it’s over to you, to share yours.
Wherever you are in the journey, people can learn from other people’s experiences.
Our first story is a sad yet familiar story – the hidden story of what it is like to have a miscarriage.
We want to thank our anonymous contributor for sharing what must have been a hard story to write. Feel free to share your thoughts and comments in our ‘contact us’ page.
I was 32 when I suffered my first miscarriage, 12 weeks into my first pregnancy, right after a very hectic Christmas. My husband and I had been so excited to have fallen pregnant so quickly. By week 9 of the pregnancy, we had proudly purchased a second hand change table from Gumtree, a heavily discounted baby car seat from Baby Kingdom and by week 10 of the pregnancy we had already toured and placed a $250 deposit for a spot at a swanky private Sydney hospital for the birth.
I thought I was quite brave to break with tradition by announcing the pregnancy to select friends and family at 9 weeks of the pregnancy. “I just don’t want to stress about hiding the pregnancy over Christmas”…“I wanted to tell you in case I miscarry so you know if I’m distraught. There is a high chance I’ll miscarriage… did you know there’s a 1 in 4 chance of miscarriage at my age?”.
I ran through all the logical reasons of why I wanted to tell friends and family of my pregnancy during the crucial first trimester. But deep down, I was really just excited to be pregnant and I’m generally not great at keeping big secrets.
Then at week 12, I arrived at work with spotting of fresh blood. I told my manager, a very supportive and empathic woman who had just come back from her own maternity leave. Concerned yet optimistic, she encouraged me to go to a doctor and get a scan. I was urgently scheduled into a Sydney scan clinic which specialises in fertility services. While my husband and I waited anxiously, I was internally scanned by the sonographer. Then came the news. The sonographer very softly, yet matter-of-factly said, ‘I’m sorry it’s not looking good. I don’t see a heartbeat’. How could that be? At 10 weeks, I had been told by the obstetrician that the baby had a strong heartbeat.
They say the hardest part of miscarriage is suffering in silence. Yet, miscarriage is so common in Australia. It wasn’t until I started sharing the news of my miscarriage that I found out many of my close friends, work mates and family had, unfortunately, shared the same pain. A miscarriage refers to the loss of a baby before 20 weeks of pregnancy.[1] Still birth, or the birth of a baby who has died in-utero or prior to delivery, occurs after 24 weeks gestation.[2]
The experience of miscarriage, stillbirth and the journey to parenthood is different for every woman. Some women may fall pregnant soon after their miscarriage, and some women may spend years dealing with infertility before successfully conceiving a baby. As I write this article, I am unfortunately in the latter category. Whatever may be your plight, I hope that some of the below insights can help you find your way through your journey. Below are three things I’ve learned from my journey of recurrent miscarriages.
1. It’s Not Your Fault Even Thought You May Feel Like It’s Your Fault
Health care practitioners may tell you it’s your body’s amazing way of telling you the foetus was ‘incompatible with life’. They may tell you all the awkward or euphemistic medical terms to describe the miscarriage such as “spontaneous abortion and pregnancy loss” to provide some reasoning. But deep down, you may still feel like it’s your fault. Even though your rational side will know it’s not your fault, your irrational side will just be desperate for more answers and some closure.
Up to 1 in 4 confirmed pregnancies end in miscarriage before 20 weeks.[3] And those statistics only reflect reported miscarriages which means miscarriage may be far more prevalent than statistics suggest. Former ‘7th Heaven’ star, Beverley Mitchells shared her heartbreaking miscarriage on her blog.[4] Mitchells recalled being told, ‘if the pregnancy is viable it will stick, if the baby (babies) are not viable they won’t’ and conceded that this advice made ‘perfect sense’ in her head but her ‘heart could not make sense of it’.
2. You and People Around You May Not be Emotionally Prepared to Deal With Miscarriage
When you learn of the miscarriage, you may feel a wrath of emotions. Grief. Confusion. Anger. Shock. Sorrow. Loneliness (especially if all your friends are already on their first or second child). And your partner, friends, work mates and family may not understand miscarriage and what rollercoaster of emotions you’re trying to process. You may learn how emotionally unprepared some people are. You may also learn that some people (even complete strangers) are extremely compassionate and understanding of your plight.
Speak to a trained counsellor or psychologist. Ask your partner or family to visit that counsellor or psychologist to help support you through the aftermath of miscarriage. For some, miscarriage can be emotionally taxing on not just the affected woman but also those around her. It’s great to get an objective voice of reason and trained professional involved in times like this.
3. You Do You. Whatever That May Be
You have the power within you to fight the grief and process the miscarriage but it will take time. Be good to yourself. Heck, “you do you”, whatever that may be.
Unfortunately for me, it involved spending hundreds of dollars on Traditional Chinese Medicine (TCM) and acupuncture with a highly recommended celebrity acupuncturist and TCM practitioner specialising in fertility. It also involved regular visits to a psychologist, gentle exercise and monthly massages at my local Endota spa. It also meant avoiding those friends and family who didn’t quite understand how to deal with my grief or were not particularly sensitive of my grief. This was my way of coping and your journey may be different. Would I recommend this path to anyone else? Probably not, it was quite expensive, but that was my way of coping and making sense of the grief.
You do you, whatever that may be, provided you’re being good to yourself. Don’t be hard on yourself. See an acupuncturist. Go for a long hike to clear your thoughts. Get a soothing massage. Treat yourself to a facial. Pick up yoga. Take a relaxing and quiet holiday (highly recommended). Just be good to yourself and acknowledge the grief. Reach out to others because I promise you, it is likely that you will find many others experiencing the same thing. In fact, you have at least a 1 in 4 chance of finding another woman that has experienced some type of infertility issue.
1] https://www.sands.org.au/miscarriage
[2] https://www.huffingtonpost.com.au/2017/02/17/miscarriage-in-australia-is-far-more-common-than-you-may-think_a_21680482/
[3] https://www.sands.org.au/miscarriage
[4] http://www.growinguphollywood.com/thankful-grateful-blessed/