Miscarriage

Miscarriage...there, I said it.  It's one of those slightly taboo words...no one really wants to talk about it, acknowledge it, even though it occurs (statistically speaking) in one out of four pregnancies.  To be honest, I'm getting a little tired of always becoming a statistic...stillbirth occurs in about 1 in 160 pregnancies, each year about 15,000 children get diagnosed with cancer and of those just under 2,000 will die, and miscarriage occurs in one of four pregnancies.  I'm ready to be the statistic that falls into a healthy pregnancy, birth, childhood and beyond!

So, back to miscarriage.  Miscarriage is hard.  Like, I'm having just as hard of a time (in a different way) as I did with stillbirth and infant death due to cancer.  Here are some of the reasons I think miscarriage is so hard:

1.  It is a somewhat taboo topic.  We don't like to talk about it.  I'm not sure if that's because we don't want to think about it happening...if women who suffer a miscarriage feel ashamed...or if it happens so early in pregnancy that often the pregnancy isn't even known (or public) yet.  Regardless of why, women (and men!) who suffer a miscarriage often feel as though they can't talk about it and process it.

2.  While going through a miscarriage, a women still has all those pesky pregnancy hormones floating through her body.  She is first-trimester exhausted (and for me, end-of-school-year exhausted on top of it!), her emotions are already all over the place, she may still be coming off of some morning sickness and nausea.  I came to this realization when I noticed I was crying so much more now than after Henry died.  (And I also cried A LOT after Brady died.)  I think that's because of the extra hormones.  I was incredibly sad when Henry died, and I did cry (and still do), but not to the extent I have been lately.

3.  Your body is physically completing the miscarriage, which isn't exactly fun.  No details, but it just kind of adds to the misery.

4.  With all of these physical and emotional symptoms, you are also grieving.  You are grieving the loss of your hopes and dreams for this baby.  With a miscarriage, you never get to see or hold your baby, so all you have are those hopes and dreams.  There are no pictures, no mementos, nothing physical to hold on to.

I've said it before, and I will say it again (and again...and again.)  It doesn't matter when you lose a child, it is traumatic.  Losing a child to miscarriage means you have nothing to hold on to.  Losing a child to stillbirth means you (hopefully) got to hold and see your baby, but you had to leave the hospital without him or her.  Losing an infant means you got to know your baby, but there is a whole lifetime of missed memories.  Losing a child, or teen, or young adult, means you made some memories but are still wishing for more.  Losing an adult child means you have lots of memories, but now you are probably losing not only a child but a friend...and possibly a mother or father of grandchildren, or an aunt or uncle.  My heart goes out to ANYONE who has lost a child at ANY stage, from pregnancy through adulthood.  Your child is loved, and will be until you take your dying breath - my love for my children continues to grow even though they are not physically here with me.