Most women have, or know someone who has, experienced a miscarriage. Which one are you? I am both. How did you, or they, handle it?
My first miscarriage happened when I was 20 years old, had a 9 month old son, and we were out of state attending a family wedding. It was a difficult situation. Even though the second pregnancy was a surprise we were happy and then we were crushed. I was about eight to nine weeks along and suddenly everything changed. I began bleeding and even with no activity and rest I was cramping. I went to an unfamiliar doctor at an unfamiliar hospital. The worst part was that I was treated in the maternity wing and could hear other newborn babies being wheeled down the hall. I hope hospitals have changed that policy.
It didn’t matter that I had only been pregnant a short time. I still loved my unborn child and his passing was a loss. Yes, I grieved. Even years later, when I would think of him I would be sad and then think about how old he would be and what kind of personality he would have. It is a grief I have kept to myself or talked about with just my husband, or maybe my sister, because others don’t want to discuss your unborn child.
Family and close friends express sympathy and that helps. Time and life bring healing. Focusing on others and family also brings healing.
When our daughter, child #4, was almost two years old I miscarried again before I even realized I was pregnant. Eight months later we conceived again. We were excited and convinced our daughter would finally have a sister and not just brothers. With much relief I passed the eight – ten week mark. At twelve weeks it reoccurred. Even though I had four living children, this loss was the greatest.
Of course, my husband was with me through all of this and he grieved in his way. Again family and friends expressed sympathy. But there were two people who did things which I still fondly remember.
My sister returned to the store some maternity clothes which I had just purchased. That task was emotionally impossible for me to do. Her doing this was a tremendous help to me. Thank you, Linda.
A week or two later a friend at church gave me a hug and said he was sorry. He was the only male (besides closest family) who verbally acknowledged our loss and grief. Thank you, Brian B. for your courage and tenderness.
The loss of a child is the loss of a dream and a future. We are left only to imagine the possibilities. I am thankful for the comfort of knowing that someday in heaven I will meet and know our other three children.