Pregnancy and Infancy Loss: What Not to Say

If only one person in the world could relate to this post, I would still share it. Unfortunately, the number of women that experience a miscarriage, stillbirth, SIDS, and other types of infancy loss is quite high. If you are part of the ‘1 in 4 women’ statistic, know that we are too. Personally we aren’t sure that the numbers make it any easier. While a lot of women can relate, we all deal with the loss differently and some experiences are more traumatic than others, but this is not a contest for who has the worst case scenario. It is heartbreaking for anyone in any of these situations. If you have gone through it, I hope you know your feelings were and are valid.

Did you want to cry and scream? Or did you just not want to get out of bed?

Did you question God? Or did you turn to prayer?

Did it consume every thought you had for days? Or did you try to forget immediately?

Did you want to talk about it with anyone? Or did you want to keep it to yourself and be left alone?

Everyone is different in their grief, but I can say none of the statistics or how you deal with it truly matters. It is something that changes you, for better or for worse. For some women, they never get their rainbow baby and for others they experience loss after or in between children. You always wonder why and most times that question goes unanswered. That is the toughest pill to swallow.

My personal experience is common, but still hard for me to share. My husband and I decided we were ready to start a family and I got pregnant right away. I lost my baby the first time I ever conceived. I was 9 weeks along and I felt a sadness like I had never experienced before. I tried to tell myself that it happened to women all the time, but I couldn’t shake the feeling of sorrow over never meeting my baby. It plagued my thoughts for the future, even though I still wanted to be a mom. What if this happens again? What if I am unable to have children? As time went on, my heart was broken and every month it broke a little more when I realized I was still not pregnant. I never talked about the longing and frustration aspect, but it was brutal. It totally consumed my thoughts. I felt like I was screaming under water. Trying my best to put on a smile and be present in conversations. A little over a year went by before I saw two pink lines on a pregnancy test. At that point, instead of feeling joy, I felt fear. Will my baby live? This was the one and only thought I had. I am blessed to say he did and that I was blessed again 3 times over. While I am forever grateful for my children, I am still deeply saddened by the loss of another. I am very happy with the life I live, but I will always feel a little sad when I think about my first. Perhaps it was just a clump of cells to some and not even a fully developed baby, but I heard the heartbeat. I yearned to be their mother. If I could have saved him or her, I would have.

There were only a few people I talked to about my miscarriage. One I knew had experienced several herself and wasn’t ever able to have children. Another that I had no idea she had miscarried after having two children. The interesting thing about each conversation is that neither time did I plan on bringing it up. People pick up on the change if they know you well enough and I needed those talks. I needed to cry and tell someone. I needed the hugs that followed. I am grateful for my people.

I don’t want pity and sympathy, but just a little empathy would be nice. I think that is what we all want the most. We want people to understand that, while yes it is common, it is still difficult and traumatic. Sometimes I feel that because the numbers are high, the support from society is low. In some strange way, people act as if because a majority experiences this type of loss, then it is normal and almost expected. There are several phrases that undermine the way women feel about their loss. It is truly disappointing that these are commonly heard by women regarding their experience. Phrases such as:

• At least it was early during the pregnancy.
• It wasn’t a baby yet.
• This happens to a lot of women.
• At least you can get pregnant.
• At least you have kids already.
• Maybe you should/shouldn’t have [insert action].
• You should have been more careful.
• You can always have another one.
• There are so many options for becoming a mother.
• Everything happens for a reason.
• It’s probably for the best.
• They are in a better place.

Honestly, there are really only two things you should ever say to someone going through loss and grief.

• I am sorry.
• I am here for you.

Don’t make it about you or your experience. Just be there for them. If they want to talk, listen. If they want to cry, hold them. Send a basket, send a card, send thoughts and prayers. Be empathetic. Be compassionate. Be supportive. Be considerate. Just be a friend.

If you are currently dealing with your own experience of pregnancy/infancy loss, we are so sorry. We are here for you if you would like to share with us. We can offer you validation for your feelings. Do not let society or anyone tell you how you should deal with your loss. Find support if it is too overwhelming and do not be ashamed for seeking care. The last thing I have to note on the matter is that time does not heal all wounds, but the earth will keep spinning. Take one day at a time and put one foot in front of the other. One day you will wake up and it won’t be the first thing on your mind. Let’s help each other get through it together.