Pregnancy Loss: A Lesson in Vulnerability
April 28, 2021, and December 16, 2022. Both of those dates will forever be engrained in my mind. Those were the two worst days of my life which resulted in joining the 1 in 4 pregnancy loss statistic. You hear about this staggering statistic, but you never think it will actually happen to you. My first loss, at 8 weeks gestation, happened following almost a year of trying to conceive. As I sat in the exam chair alone for a routine appointment (after seeing the heartbeat 3 times), my OB suddenly stopped talking. All I heard was “I am so sorry. There is no heartbeat.” I was in utter shock as I called my husband to tell him the news. The days and weeks following this loss were painful, isolating, lonely, challenging, and somber. I had to take care of my 18-month-old son and “act normal,” while going through this extremely traumatic event. I was not sure how to process this and felt like my body had failed me. I will mention a few things to NOT say to someone who experiences pregnancy loss: “at least you got pregnant!” “the baby was probably sick, so it’s better this way,” “this is just a blip in the road.”
I confided in my best friend and her response was something I will never forget. “If your friends do not know what you are going through, they cannot be there for you.” This was eye-opening and after two weeks of isolation and feeling ashamed, I reached out to some friends for support. Speaking about my loss made it feel more real and allowed me the space to grieve alongside close friends. Some friends sent dinners, candles, cookies, and flowers. I will forever be grateful for their support in one of my darkest times.
When my second son was 4 months old, I unexpectedly got pregnant. I was shocked, but also felt lucky for this surprising blessing after all the struggles I had gone through. After my 9 week scan, where everything looked “normal,” the thought of another loss never even crossed my mind. I figured the worst already happened to me, so I was in the clear. A few days later, I started spotting and a few days after that, I lost the pregnancy. This loss was even more traumatic for me (I will spare you the details). Following the loss, I went into a deep depression. I was not eating or sleeping and would burst into tears throughout the day even at work. I didn’t know what was wrong with me and I had never felt like this before. Even as a therapist, I did not know that postpartum depression could occur following pregnancy loss. While your body is no longer pregnant, the hormones are still there. After seeking out help- therapy, medication and prioritizing myself, I was fortunate to become pregnant with my third son (who is 8 months old).
The devastating experience of pregnancy loss takes so much from you- the joy of being pregnant, the carefree attitude of pregnancy, and leaves you with anxiety, complicated grief and scars that will forever remain. The hardest part of all of it is that no one knows you lost a child, and so it feels isolating and shameful to grieve. This kind of loss is called “ambiguous loss” which is defined as losses that occur without closure or understanding. This type of grief is extremely isolating.
I wish I could tell you the silver lining from these losses, yes I could say I had my two rainbow babies and I am of course grateful for them. But, sometimes, there is no silver lining and acknowledging that these were real losses and sharing my story helps me feel supported. It is the driving force behind my career specializing in maternal mental health. I want to be able to help those in these vulnerable situations and guide them through the grief, loss, pain, anger and fear.
I want other women to know you are not alone, if you a part of the 1 in 4 unfortunate club, I see you. Your pain is real. Your loss is real. Your grief is warranted. Allow yourself the time and space to grieve: and remember women are warriors.