Our Miscarriage: Honoring Loss & Moving Forward

A week ago, I was drafting a very different post. A week ago, I was excited to share the news that we were expecting our second child. A week ago, we went in for our 9 week ultrasound. A week ago, we experienced a tremendous loss in our family.

That’s when I knew for sure. The baby that was frozen on the screen above us, our second child, was already gone.

The next 24 hours are a blur. We met with our OB who explained to us, in no uncertain terms, that there was nothing we could have done differently that would have prevented this outcome. That it’s an unfortunate reality that affects 1 in 4 women. We scheduled a surgical procedure for the next day. The surgery, called a D&C, is often performed after a first-trimester miscarriage. We went to the hospital, I went under anesthesia, and then we were sent home a few hours later.

The physical recovery has been pretty easy, and the medical team we were lucky enough to work with throughout this entire process has been incredible.

The emotional recovery has now begun, and we’re lucky to be surrounded by phenomenal family and friends who have been by our side. We’re looking for ways to honor our loss as a family, and remember this sweet soul we had the privilege of sharing our love with for a few months.

The feelings I’ve felt in the past week have been a roller coaster filled with shame and embarrassment, guilt and sorrow. How do you mourn someone you never met? How do you accept the fact that your family just went from 4 to 3? Where are the resources for these questions and why aren’t we talking about it? If a quarter of us have lived through this, why isn’t it easier to reach out to one another about it?

I’m confident in our ability as a family to work through these questions and feelings and know that time is a great healer, but, in the meantime, I’d like to extend an invitation to any and all of you who have lived through these experiences.

Let’s take the veil off of this life experience and give it the honor and love it deserves. I want to hear your story. I want to discuss these losses without whispering or feeling inadequate. I want to empower each other to own these feelings and these realities.

(And then if you want to come have a coffee, a glass of wine, or a cookie, I’d like that too.)