Tuesday I introduced you to three people whom I love dearly who allowed me to interview them on the topics of miscarriage, pregnancy loss and infant loss. Yesterday they educated us on the DO’s and DO NOT’s of supporting a loved one through the loss. Today they are going to talk about the grieving process.
Kim and Laura, I know you both miscarried in 2008.
Are you still grieving? If so, what does your grieving process look like now compared to what it looked like immediately following the ordeal. How long did you grieve the loss and how did you finally overcome the sadness?
Kim
I do still grieve. I think mostly when I have my period every month. I am angry and sad and feel generally pissed off. I still haven’t lost the 10lbs from that pregnancy and the emotional eating afterward, so I feel that sometimes when my jeans are too tight. I see it in the years between my two girls…there is someone missing, someone not there and it stings. The pain is lessened. It does get better. You can breathe and move on but never forget. I don’t swear and throw fits and throw toys at the walls and punch holes in them anymore like I did in the weeks following the loss. However, I am still on medication for my postpartum depression. A necessity I am now seeing will probably be lifelong. I don’t know that the sadness ever goes away. Lots of prayer, lots of talking with my husband and close friends. Doing things to remind me of that baby. I have a box of cards and dried flowers and my hospital bands. I haven’t opened it since I put them there, but they are there and that means that this baby was real.
Laura
Technically, Zella should be three years old, but I don’t really keep track. Because of her condition and personal experiences, I never felt like she was intended to be a living child, so I was spared any bitterness about what might have been. I feel very blessed for that. I did, however, grieve my loss of control. I became obsessed with having another baby to regain control of family planning. But due to ongoing issues – you must be monitored for six months after a molar pregnancy to make sure you don’t develop cancer – I couldn’t do that immediately. That was extremely difficult for me. I cried A LOT, always in private.
Things that helped comfort me were online support groups, infant loss publications, others with similar experiences … oh, and good food, good entertainment and good company. Even if you don’t feel up for it, you will often feel better if you let yourself have a good time. Grief can wait; let yourself have some fun, even if you feel guilty. It also helped to have another baby – I had another girl 17 months later and am now expecting another (!) girl in August – because I was able to put the traumatic memories to rest as I replaced them with more positive ones.
Finally, we created a special box full of mementos from her birth. Things like ultrasound pics, her hospital bracelet and pictures taken shortly after her birth. In the beginning, I looked at it all the time, but now it’s something we pull out sporadically. It makes me happy, not sad. I have her footprints on display and a few Christmas ornaments representing her. She’s spoken of often in our home, to the point that my oldest refers to her on a frequent basis.
Brooke, what is helping you cope during these difficult times?
Brooke
During your loss and the time you took/are taking to grieve, you no doubt had friends and family members get pregnant–some with seemingly no effort.
Can you talk about how you were able to deal with “other people’s joy?” When friends and family members told you of their news, did they expect you to put your own pain aside and focus on them or were they sensitive to the anguish you were experiencing?
Brooke
People try to be good. Let’s preface it with that. It’s funny because in the month that I miscarried, two of my friends gave birth to healthy babies, three more were on the brink of delivery (and now have healthy babies) and six announced either the gender of their babies or their pregnancies. I was like “COME ON!” I think that it’s hard to remember the pain that others are going through when you’re really excited about something, especially if you’ve never felt that kind of pain before.
Kim
I think for me, suffering with my own little world of infertility and being involved with adoption, I was never jealous or sad when people got pregnant. Did it sting a bit? A bit, but I never blamed my friends or anyone else…it is not and could never be their fault that they were blessed with this miracle and I was not. Instead, finding joy in the miracle of a new life is what I did. The joy and happiness that others were feeling gave me the ability to find joy and hope in my life as well.
I think generally people were very understanding. Many people would send me an email or call me a few days before they announced their news. They were always very sensitive to how I was feeling, which made me feel important and special and did not minimize my loss in any way. It allowed me to be a part of something special in their lives to which I was grateful for.
Laura
Again, everyone is different. Because I had a living child, it wasn’t as painful for me to be around pregnant friends, because I’d had a successful pregnancy. It was hard to go to baby showers for women due the same time I had been, especially if people asked me questions like, “Are you ready for a second yet?” as if I’d never been pregnant.
What is an appropriate way for family members or friends to tell you they are expecting immediately following your loss?
Brooke
An appropriate way to announce a pregnancy to someone who is going through that pain would be through something very personal, like a phone call or letter in the mail, or even email, prefaced with “I am so sorry that you are going through this. I wanted to be the one to tell you about this because I didn’t want you to find out from someone else..” etc. Depending on how close the two people are, it might even be better to wait a few weeks to announce your pregnancy to anyone, if you’re willing to do that. But I know it’s hard to keep good news on the downlow.
Kim
Like I mentioned, maybe telling you first before telling everyone else. I want to be told, and not to hold off. I think I would feel worse if I didn’t know. I don’t want my nose rubbed in it. Maybe send flowers or a sweet card that says, “I have been thinking of you and your loss, and want you to know how much I care about you…because I care I know this news may be hard to hear, but I still want to share with you we are expecting a baby, and it is my hope and prayer that this happens for you again soon.” Something like that so that I would feel special and loved and acknowledged.
Laura
I think most people are sensitive for a limited amount of time, at which point they either forget or expect you to move forward, which is unfortunate. It’s very appreciated if people acknowledge the situation by prefacing announcements with “I know this could be sensitive since you lost your baby, but I wanted to tell you I am pregnant before you hear it from someone else. Please let me know if you want to know more, or if it’s too painful to be involved right now.” Same goes for shower invites – definitely invite them, but let them know you’ll understand if they aren’t up to attending.
How did/are your husbands grieving the loss? How are you able to help them in their grief while you are in pain also?
Brooke
That’s the neat thing about grief… when you are experiencing it, one of the only ways I’ve found to alleviate it is to help someone else through it. My husband, Steven, is so centered on helping me through this that sometimes he appears to be fine to others, which can make them act less sensitively to him. I try to listen to the small things he says that might indicate how he’s feeling about everything and then respond accordingly. I want to make every other aspect of his life totally pleasant so that on the hard days, he at least doesn’t have other stresses. We watch a lot of Modern Family when he needs a pick me up and have gone out for 2 AM shakes pretty frequently in the last couple of months.
Kim
My husband and I had just become foster parents the day before we lost our baby. We snuggled our little boy so much at that time. My husband took a week off from work and we stayed up late eating Love Potion 31 from Baskin Robbins and watching episode after episode of LOST. (THE best therapy, I highly recommend it.) We said lots of eff words and talked about how we were feeling. It is a tremendous blow for the husband as well and I think they get the shaft sometimes too. This was half of them as well, this was their baby too. Talking is the best way to deal with it.
Laura
When we first learned our baby’s terminal condition, I felt like my husband wasn’t as upset as me and sometimes that bothered me. (And let me preface: I have a really, really kind and sensitive husband. Like the kind of husband who does the laundry without being asked and listens to me cry/vent/complain without complaining.) In hindsight, I realize that he was focused on my needs first. He wanted to make sure I was okay before he dealt with his own grief. Over time, I saw his pain, displayed in his own way. Not only is he a guy who doesn’t cry much (like ever), but he hadn’t developed the same bond I had with our unborn child since he wasn’t carrying her. These days, however, he is more likely to remember her than I am, because he’s very protective of her memory and still processing the loss. His grief was more subtle and drawn out, but it’s no better or worse. Be understanding of your spouse, whether they seem more or less upset than you are. You can’t force them to grieve a certain way, but you can be clear about what you need from them in terms of emotional and physical support.
On hard days, what do you do?
Brooke
Honestly…. I covet other people’s pregnancies and newborns until I’ve cried myself out. Then I cry with my Mom, then I cry with Steven. I try to stay busy – cleaning, taking Gage to the park, finishing up projects, exercising. For me, if my mind is busy focusing on other things, I’m okay. I try to read something uplifting before I go to bed (which is usually really early on the bad days), then I make sure I have a busy day planned for tomorrow.
Kim
I hit Red Mango. I am a true emotional eater. This year on the anniversary of the loss I photographed on that day. I looked up online how big that baby was when he/she passed away and I photographed a fruit that was the same size. It made this baby tangible and visual. It was highly healing for me. Sometimes on the hard days I don’t want to talk about the baby at all. I want to pretend it never happened. Other times, it is all I want to talk about and think about…and sometimes I go back to my blog and read about the day we lost the baby. Mostly? I hit Red Mango.
Laura
I don’t have hard days any more. Those ended a within a year after Zella’s birth, mostly because my father developed terminal cancer, which redirected my grief. But when I did struggle, I just let myself be—a coping skill that helped me after my father’s death. When you want to cry, cry. When you want to laugh, laugh. Don’t make a game plan for your grief. Embrace it, feel it and let it go when it’s ready to leave, however short or long that might be. Know that some days will be better than others, and that when you least expect it, grief will come back to visit.
I love to look at Zella’s box and remember her. I love to share my experience and remind people that she existed. It was a miserable and painful experience, but it’s made me who I am—a better friend, a seasoned survivor and an appreciative mother.
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Thank you, thank you Brooke, Kim and Laura for reliving your trials and sharing your heart with us! XO
RE: What is an appropriate way for family members or friends to tell you they are expecting immediately following your loss?
I am expecting a baby in September after 3 years of ttc and if treatments, including 2 chemical pregnancies and 2 first trimester miscarriages. My neighbor tried to have a baby for years with quite a few losses before having to get a medically necessary hysterectomy. She has been very interested in our progress, and very supportive as we dealt with our struggles and losses.
As I approached the “visable” time during my pregnancy, I struggled with how to tell her. I remember the feeling of finding out a friend was pregnant. That feeling like you were punched in the stomach. How hard it is to express happiness for your friend when what you really want to do is go home and cry about how life isn’t fair.
I didn’t want her to see me in the yard one day and realize it on her own, and I didn’t want her to have to try to put on a happy face for me when I told her the news. So I chose an email. I wanted to give her the space to grieve for herself before she worried about how she would respond to me. There’s no good way to get that news when you are dealing with loss and infertility, but I felt that was the way I would have wanted to receive it.
She sent me a very nice email back, expressing how happy she is for us and also admitting that she is a bit jealous. But our interactions since then have not been awkward and I’m happy with how I handled it.
I just wish none of us ever had to deal with those situations!!!!
Thanks to all 3 for sharing their feelings. And to you, Lindsey. My daughter and I were talking one day about how experiences like this (including being the recipient of insensitive words, seemingly uncaring friends & family, and hurtful comments) have helped us to try to give other people a whole lot of slack. So the checker in the grocery store is rude – we can’t know what the last week may have been like for her; or a sibling isn’t answering our calls – maybe a sweet, non-judgmental email would be the best action … and on and on. Bit by bit I’m learning to take deep breath and try to imagine what may be going on in another person’s life – then offer a quick prayer for inspiration in what I say or do. It’s a process, and I fail on a regular basis – but I’m trying.
I have so appreciated this series of posts. I am grateful for the opportunity to learn and hopefully I will be a more sensitive and compassionate friend because of reading these words. My heart is so tender for all of your losses, thank you for sharing your stories.
This is great! I had a miscarriage about 5 years ago. We did not broadcast it to the world, only family and a few weeks after people started telling our daughter to tell us it was time for a little brother. I learned then to not make assumptions about why others do not have more kids. You never know what is going on unless you ask. Also knowing that I probably have hurt or offended others without knowing it, this helps a lot to learn what others have gone through and to know how to handle such a sensitive subject.
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I found your blog last night and read these stories of loss and survival and grief. Thank you for sharing your hearts, ladies. And Mrs. R, I’m following along now!
I knew I’d need that box of tissue I had on hand while I read these posts by such amazing women. Thank you for your honesty about such a difficult, heart wrenching time. Thank you also for helping us be able to find the right words to express our sorrow to our family and friends who will be going through this. Thank you, Mrs. R!!!!!
I have really appreciated these posts. My first miscarriage was back in 2002 at 12 weeks gestation. I passed that pregnancy naturally. I was young and it was hard. Then we suffered from fertility issues and I didn’t get pregnant again until 4 years later with the help of a fertility specialist. I miscarried again and had a D & C. Now, it has been a few years and we are blessed with 2 children, but I appreciate reading about other people’s experiences. It helps to articulate feelings I had that I was unable to express at the time. It also helps me now with other people facing similar difficulties. I feel for these women and I appreciate their willingness to share such personal feelings for our benefit. (ps. I used to read Mrs. Dub’s blog and I MISS it!! She is such a talented writer!)
Thank you for doing this series. We just miscarried today, which was a huge blow since we were told in May that there were not any further things they could do medically to help us with infertility and we would have a slim chance of getting pregnant on our own. I definitely will be sending family and friends over to read. It’s easier then explaining or hearing the nonsense.
I have really enjoyed reading these posts. For me, it opened up a whole new perspective, admiration, and appreciation for women and families who are impacted by miscarriage and infant loss. We (very) recently started trying for our first baby so I have never experienced anything like these strong ladies have, but I learned so, so much from them. I now feel that if/when I am affected by infant loss (whether myself, a family member, or a friend) I will be much, much better prepared for it. When we know better, we act better.
I was also an anonymous fan of Mrs. Dub’s blog back in the day (I miss her blog!)–and I was just thrilled to hear she has added two more girls to her family! Congratulations, Laura, I couldn’t be happier for you and your family.
Grief is such a complicated (not sure if that is the right word) thing. The process is so different for everyone and there is just no way to predict how it will go for yourself or others. For me, at times it was like getting on a roller coaster without having any idea when I would be getting off.
A dear friend gave me a book about grief when I was in a really dark place. I was touched by her thoughtfulness but honestly I thought-here we go again, another book about grief that will tell me how to get over this, etc.
The book was titled “Tear Soup” by Pat Schweibert. The book sat on my shelf for a while but I was surprised when I finally read it. It is a simple story following a woman as she grieves (although it never says why she is grieving). The short story is followed with several pages with information about grief-which validated many of my feelings. It is one of the few resources that I have encountered that was simple, applicable to people of all ages, and doesn’t focus on only one reason why someone is grieving.
Books are definitely not for everyone and can be a touchy gift, but I now cherish this book. It is the only one I have hung onto and the only one I have ever shared with others.
These have been powerful, moving, informative posts Lindsey. I feel very humbled and honored to “know” you online – this is the kind of blogging that makes me proud to be a blogger. You’re an amazing advocate for this community – these posts only confirm that. Now I’m off to share this like a fiend.
These are moving stories, Grief is natural and heals. Guilt, however, has no place here even if only under cover. We, humans, are not perfect reproducers. Some estimates are suggesting that up to 50 to 70% of all spontaneous conceptions are lost before the end of the first trimester, most of them in the first month. Of those conceptions that are recognized, 10 to 15% are lost.
I have taken care of thousands of women during my professional career. I know what these young ladies are going through. Whether manifested or not, patients always have a feel of reproductive inadequacy. I feel very strongly that in such cases understanding our reproductive limtiations is of great importance in the process of coping and healing.
All of you ladies are amazing. Thank you for sharing your stories! Much love to all of you!
I have had 7 seven miscarriages from 2007 to 2010. I still feel so alone and sometimes am in constant battles emotionally. I’ve heard it all from both friends, family, and doctors. I’m trying to pick up where I am and figure out what I’m going to do. I’ve also been a Foster Mom – the case was just as horrific – but I loved the baby, even though it was all very hard for various reasons. Thank you for sharing. : )
I can’t tell you how much I appreciate this post. I was actually just doing a google search for your etsy shop to purchase another piece, when I came across your blog and this series on pregnancy loss just days after miscarrying our first after three years of trying.
Laura’s words will stick with me…”When you want to cry, cry. When you want to laugh, laugh. Don’t make a game plan for your grief. Embrace it, feel it and let it go when it’s ready to leave, however short or long that might be. Know that some days will be better than others, and that when you least expect it, grief will come back to visit.” This is absolutely perfect advice and I plan to remind myself of it daily.
I am so glad you were able to connect with others that share a similar story. There is such power in community!
Hearing these stories and stories in the comments…I can’t lie….scare me. I’m having such a hard time just GETTING pregnant that I can’t seem to imagine having a miscarriage. I feel like I’m just in the beginning stages of a very long and painful battle because…to be honest….I feel like I don’t deserve a baby as much as some other people (like the ones above me). But then I wonder if that’s how women who give birth to perfectly healthy babies feel? I guess I will never know – but I do know that if I ever have to go through this…I’ll have some people to turn to
I don’t know how I missed these posts, but I’m so glad I’m caught up now. This was such an emotional read for me and brought up some very real and lingering feelings I have having lost several pregnancies myself. Even as I sit here knowing my new baby boy is in the next room sleeping, I miss the little fingers & toes and smiles and fat rolls that I never got to see on those babies that are in heaven.
I love that you did this Mrs. R. I feel/have felt lots of those feelings that Brooke, Kim, and Laura have felt. Everyone feels those differently and interprets their own pregnancy loss differently. While my friend who lost her pregnancy finds comfort in thinking that it was a fluke, I find comfort in knowing that I’ll get to hold my babies someday. My 7-year-old still prays for her brothers and sisters in heaven and tells people all the time that we are a family of 8 (we don’t know if they were brothers or sisters . . . but we’re excited to meet them later and find out). I think that she has been the biggest comfort and supporter for me as I went through my losses. She lost her siblings. She prayed each day for an opportunity to be a big sister just like I prayed each day to have the opportunity to bear those children. They are just as real to her as they are to me. And while we literally celebrate each day because we finally have a baby brother to cuddle, our other babies have not been erased. There are very few months in the year that don’t remind me of when I found out I was pregnant, lost the baby, or should have been celebrating that baby’s birthday.
My sister lost her baby when he was born just shy of 24 weeks. They got to hold him for an hour before he passed away and I got to cuddle and love him a little while later. What a perfect little guy. I’m so grateful to have been able to hold her baby, hoping that his spirit was still nearby. I found out I was pregnant 2 weeks later and miscarried the next week. I struggled for weeks before telling my sister that I had lost my pregnancy, thinking that somehow her loss was bigger than mine because we actually got to meet Isaac and had a funeral service for him. She showed me how absolutely ridiculous that was and we were able to comfort each other and talk about how those cousins just couldn’t do without each other for long.
Lindsay and her family send a balloon to Isaac in heaven on his birthday each year. We love Isaac and love to talk about him. He even got to share his unworn clothes with his new cousin Malcolm after a massive blow-out at Aunt Lindsay’s house.
I could go on . . . thank you for doing this Mrs. R. I love the education that you are providing for me and others and an outlet for communication on such sensitive subjects. You are a saint.
During the early 1900s, my father’s mother had thirty-three miscarriages and ten children who grew to adulthood. After revealing this to my daughter, she eventually provided an amazing website and set of services to the grieving community. Therhouse fills a deep need for open understanding of and communication with the community.
This is, perhaps, one of the most moving comments I have ever gotten.
THANK YOU!