I'm one of those people who likes to try to deal with things by using humor when I can. If you have read any of my other posts you will (hopefully) note a hint of sarcasm and wit from time to time. I'm afraid this post will probably provide none of those. None the less, I feel as though I am in a situation where I can provide some information, useful information for once, and so I feel compelled to share. I often feel as though I am on the cusp of adulthood. I mean real adulthood, not "I'm 18! I'm an adult!" adulthood. As I type this I am sitting beside a little girl eating rice crispies in her highchair. Every now and then she will lean over and wipe a sticky hand on my knee leaving tiny, sticky milk hand prints. After I finish my decafe coffee my day will be filled with online bill paying, laundry, diaper changes and such. But, just 4 short years ago, I was simultaneously balancing waitressing, drinking my face off on weekends, and finishing a degree. The only one I had to take care of was myself and my cat, and we lived in a basement suite that was about the size of my current livingroom. In my free time I would hang out with friends and discuss the problems of the world, theology, zombie attacks, the idiots we liked to date... you name it. Now in my free time I hang out with other mommies and their kids and we discuss how much we love our slow cookers.... You get the idea.
My point is this, I remember being single. I remember being kidless. It was only 4 short years ago and I remember how much I didn't know about this kind of life. It would piss me off when someone would say that their kid was 24 months instead of 2. When I saw a kid with one of those backpack leashes on, I judged the hell out of that parent. Now that I am immersed in it, I understand that I was making judgments on something that I knew nothing about. Little information + judgmental attitude = difficult time for all involved. The purpose of this post was to share a little information on something that I once had opinions on but no actual experience with. A touchy, little-talked about subject. Miscarriage.
If you are one of a few close friends and family who are reading this then you already know that, unfortunately, my husband and I lost a pregnancy about a week and a half ago. I was a couple months in. It was a pretty typical experience, something was probably off on a chromosomal level, my body knew this and thus, nature took its course. There was nothing my husband or I could have done to prevent it, it is just a part of life for many families. Statistics tell us that about 1 in 5 known pregnancies will end in a miscarriage, usually in the first 3 months. If you are reading this and are a woman with 2 or more kids then, chances are, you probably experienced at least one miscarriage at some point in your life.
If you have no experience on this subject, please help yourself to some of mine. I often feel as though my daughter has made me a much better person, as she has taught me so much in only 14 months. I am humbled when I realize that, though the little one that grew in my tummy for 8 weeks was only around for a short time, he/she has managed to do the same. Because of that pregnancy and that experience, I learned a lot and am a better person. Here is what that little bean in my belly taught me:
1. There is no right way to deal with the loss of a pregnancy. Some women will feel relief that their body knew something was wrong and acted accordingly, other women will tearfully recall a miscarriage that occurred 40 years ago. Neither of these is wrong, nor is any reaction on the spectrum in between the two. Every woman is different. Some start buying baby things and begin celebrating the moment they see those 2 pink lines on the home pregnancy test, others don't feel any attachment until the baby is placed in their arms after birth. Don't assume that your experience or your partner's experience will be the same as everyone else's. It will be what it is.
2. If someone is grieving a miscarriage, try not to judge it. Try not to judge how and why they should grieve, or how long they should grieve. Miscarriages are a complicated experience for a lot of women. Usually, when someone you love dies, it is very socially acceptable to grieve. Other people also have memories or even photos and videos of the two of you together. If you mother or brother dies, you grieve the person that you lost and you grieve all the future memories you will no longer make. In a miscarriage, you are grieving someone that you have not even met. You are grieving the possibility of that person, of the life and all the memories that were to come. It is difficult because no one else even met that person, not even you. There are no pictures, no videos, not even any memories. Just the endless possibilities that are no longer there. Imagine trying to grieve the loss of someone dear to you, someone that no one else even knows existed. Complicated....
3. Going along with #2, be sensitive to the fact that for a lot of women, even though they hadn't yet met that baby, they loved him/her. When you love someone, you grieve the loss of that individual. Simple as that. You wouldn't be insensitive to someone that just lost a family member, and for many women, they count that pregnancy as a family member. Not all women, but some do. Again, there is no right or wrong way to deal with a miscarriage, you can only take it as it comes.
4. "Not Viable" is a term that gets passed around a lot. In the case of mine, it was not a viable pregnancy. Again, this is a hard one to hear. Keep in mind that, for many women, just because the baby was not viable to survive in this world, does not mean that he/she is not viable to live in our hearts. Unless you are a medical doctor, avoid using this term.
5. "You'll have more children".... again, avoid saying this. It is good to be positive, but it may not be something that the woman wants to hear right away. Besides the fact that sometimes a miscarriage can do a number on a woman's body, sometimes leaving them unable to have more children, it trivializes the current situation. Without knowing the woman's full past, present and future medical information (which no one except big guns upstairs has access to), avoid this one. No one knows what the future holds, and she will only know how she feels right now. Many women have avoided trying to have more children after a miscarriage, as the experience was just too painful.
6. "You can always adopt..." Again, not something you want to hear after just experiencing a miscarriage. I am all for adoption, but I also understand that I can't just walk into an adoption center tomorrow and leave with a baby. Understand that adoption often takes years and can cost thousands of dollars. Being blasé about the whole thing and flippantly telling them to just adopt is not helping an already sensitive situation.
7. "Well, at least you have your other kid(s)"... ouch.... This is such a double edged sword. I do fully believe that my daughter has helped me through this experience, more so than anyone else. I am grateful everyday that I have her. I had an ultrasound the day before my miscarriage and found that there was no heartbeat, and would inevitably lose the pregnancy soon. I came home to a smiling 14 month old, sitting in her high chair eating breakfast with dad. I can't imagine coming home to a silent house. It would have been unbearable. My heart aches for the women who try for years to get pregnant and then have a miscarriage. In saying that, I have a friend with 4 children who experienced a miscarriage during her 5th pregnancy. I can honestly say that she experienced just as much pain as I did, if not more. No matter how many children you may or may not have, if you want a baby.... then YOU WANT THAT BABY. If you have other children, doesn't make that baby any less loved or any less wanted. Try to keep that in mind. It's really easy to make comments about "fate" or the "overpopulation of society" or how certain people "just shouldn't have kids" when it's not you.
8. "I guess it just wasn't meant to be..." Do. Not. Say. This. Ever.
9. Hormones. Dear god the hormones. Your body is a physiological mess for a little bit, it feels like it doesn't know if its pregnant or not (which is really, exactly what's happening). If a family member or coworker or some one you know has experienced a miscarriage recently, go easy on them. They may calmly talk about the experience in detail with someone one minute, and then burst into tears 20 minutes later when someone walks up and says hello to them. If they are acting like a crazy person, well... it's because they probably feel like a crazy person. The experience of a miscarriage can range from mild to extreme, both emotionally and physiologically. Again, never assume that you know what someone is going through.
10. In a conversation I had the other day with one of the ministers at my church, he said something that made a lot of sense to me. He told me that the two most spiritually powerful experiences that an individual can experience is the birth of a new life and the death of a life. Miscarriage/Stillbirth is the only time you simultaneously experience both of those. A new life is over before it has had the chance to really begin. Again, keep this in mind if someone you know is going through this experience. If they seem like a crazy person who is having life-changing epiphanies every 10 minutes, followed by 2 days of weeping... well, its because they are going through a lot. That and the hormones....
So Cristina, what the hell do I say? The best thing? Just saying "I wish I knew what to say." For me, there is something incredibly comforting in knowing that someone understands the gravity of the situation, they don't want to trivialize anything, they just want to comfort me but can't. I know that sounds complicated, but it's just about knowing that people care about you, they care about what you are going through, and they aren't going to spit out some token advice and then move on. They recognize that they can't do a thing to help you, even though they want to. It's actually a lot like what a miscarriage feels like emotionally, knowing that there is not a thing you can do to save the pregnancy, even though you want to. You just have to let time take over and take it day by day. The other thing that helped a lot was hugs from other women, various ages, who simply said "I understand." No judgments from them, no comparison about whose miscarriage was worse and who handled it better, just a simple hug and an "I understand." It also helped me just to talk about it with other women. To hear all of our collective experiences and how we've all dealt with it differently. That approach may not work for everyone, but it really made a difference for me.
So, if you are a kidless person by choice or someone with kids who just has never experienced this and who didn't quite understand the complexity of a miscarriage, my hope is that I shed a little light on it for you. And if you are a women who knows what I am talking about, if you need it, here is my Hug and my "I understand." xo
