October is National Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Month. 25% of all pregnancies end in a loss, which means that many, many of us have been through this difficult and painful experience.
Although pregnancy loss is so common, living through it can leave us feeling isolated and alone. People don’t acknowledge our grief or say the wrong thing (“Oh well, you can always try again”) or we may feel that we don’t have the right to be sad because the pregnancy was “so early” or because we had some ambivalence about it. You have a right to grieve no matter the context and timing of your pregnancy. This is a profound event that happens body and soul and however you experience it, however you need to grieve it, you should be given time, space and respect in your journey.
- Some women name the baby they hoped to have even if the miscarriage was very early. That’s one right way to do it.
- Other women may experience an early loss as a loss of possibility, not as a baby. That’s another right way to do it.
- Some women may join groups and become involved in campaigns to increase visibility and understanding. That’s one right way to do it.
- Others may feel more comfortable grieving privately or may attend groups but not speak. That’s another right way to do it.
Healthy grief is hard and it’s a path that meanders; “getting over it” or “moving on” are myths that don’t serve us well. In truth, healthy grieving is about integrating our loss into our personal narrative, it’s about learning how best to tell our story to ourselves so that we can understand it and this takes time and effort.
Healthy grief means good days and bad days, sorrow that comes and goes as we grow and change. Healthy grief means going days without thinking about it and then seeing something that brings it to the forefront of our minds again.
The loss is part of our history and so part of ourselves.
If you have suffered a pregnancy loss and want support, no matter when it happened or in what context, please know that there is help for you.
Locally, Kobaker House offers a wonderful group for both mothers and fathers. It meets the first Tuesday of each month and you can call Sarah Phillips at (614) 533-6060 for more information. They will also be hosting a Tulip Bulb Planting Ceremony at their October meeting on the 6th. From their website:
A time of reflection and remembrance, to come together with those who have lost a baby either during pregnancy or in the first year after birth. Bulbs will be provided. Please bring a small spade or shovel. Families and children are welcome.
If you feel more comfortable reaching out anonymously, you can call Backline, a talkline for all aspects of pregnancy including infertility and loss. Their number is 1-888-493-0092.
If you are grieving the loss of a wanted pregnancy where you needed to terminate for health reasons, you may feel particularly lost. Fortunately, this website, Ending a Wanted Pregnancy, offers parent support and information. They also have a public Facebook page.
Finally, you can seek help from a counselor. There are many of us who have specific training and interest in supporting women who are struggling with pregnancy loss. Please feel free to call me. If I’m not the right person to help you, I will work to help you find them.
In the spring of 2002, after three years of concentrated effort and several early miscarriages, my husband I decided that we were at the end of our fertility quest. That’s it, we told each other, let our son be an only child or maybe we’ll adopt but this is the end of the charting, the tests and the medical appointments. Our decision was precipitated by a number of different factors – my mental and physical exhaustion; the end of our insurance coverage for infertility treatment; and the toll my emotional roller coaster was having on my then 5-year old son.
I felt empowered but terrified, calm but bereft. It wasn’t an easy decision but I knew it was the right one. For the first time since we started trying for that second baby I felt in control. Even on my bad days – which still arrived with depressing regularity fueled by baby announcements, baby shower invitations or even seeing two closely-spaced siblings at the grocery store – I could finally see a time when this wouldn’t hurt so much.
I went to my secondary infertility support group with my news. A small close-knit email list made up of women who found each other on another parenting board, the women there bubbled with encouraging posts (“Your baby is just waiting for you to bring her down from heaven!”), treatment advice (“Have you talked to your doctor about the benefits of a 3-day versus 5-day transfer?”), and sympathy (“Don’t let your sister-in-law get to you; one day you’ll be nursing your own little one!”). In this cheer-leading atmosphere, my decision to stop wasn’t popular. The de facto leader of our group had herself gone to great lengths both medical and economic to give birth to her daughter. Second mortgages, intense treatment and loss had only fueled her determination. She argued with me about my decision but I remained firm. That was it. I was done.
“I guess,” she finally said. “That I wanted another baby more than you did.”
Infertility support groups work because for the most part everyone is on the same page (or at least a similar one). But when one member decides to call it quits it can threaten the cohesion of the group.
Looking back now, I can see why my announcement landed with a thud in the center of our virtual coffee klatch. These were women who had been told over and over again (by friends, by family and sometimes by partners) that they were being unreasonable. They needed a group that would cheer them on when other people rolled their eyes and told them to quit trying so hard. You know, “Just relax!” and all that. Now I can see how my saying “enough already”, however personal that decision was, sounded like I was just a step away from joining the critical chorus.
Still, it hurt. These were my friends and suddenly I was on the outside as they closed ranks.
My decision to quit treatment was not any better or worse than another woman’s decision to stay the course. However in the context of the list, my choice was seen in some ways as a betrayal of our group’s “baby or bust” values. It was time for me to go.
If you find that your support community is holding you back but you’re not quite ready to leave, take some time to build up a new support system that reflects the values you are trying to embrace. When I have a client who is looking to make changes in her support system, we go slow as we consider how she will find those people who will help her in her new endeavors. We also talk about how it’s hard to leave people who have been important in our lives even when their presence has clearly become more of a hindrance than a help.
Having the unbiased support of a therapist can help you make decisions that best reflect your particular situation, experience and values. If you’re local and find yourself struggling to figure out what to do next, please feel free to contact me. Maybe I can help.
Daily Kos :: Political Analysis and other daily rants on the state of the nation.
Legislation that would have required mothers who had failed to report fetal deaths to the police within 12 hours of the delivery to face a possible misdemeanor sentence will be withdrawn, its patron said on Monday.
“I’ve elected to withdraw HB 1677 from consideration by the General Assembly this year. The language is just too confusing,” Del. John Cosgrove, R-Chesapeake, told The Augusta Free Press.
Cosgrove’s surprise move came after a firestorm of controversy spread across the World Wide Web over the weekend about the possible far-reaching effects of the measure.