Miscarriage sucks. It's shrouded in loss and confusion. If you are in a partnership with the goal of having kids, there is a good chance that you will or have gone through a miscarriage. I have gone through miscarriage twice. It's the type of life event that people discuss with a quiet voice behind closed doors. Miscarriage is a word that’s often invoked in brief moments between women, or with a partner. I bet you’ve never heard someone shout out the word, “Miscarriage!” The word comes with its own baggage, and the baggage is different for everyone. For me the baggage was shame, disappointment, confusion, and isolation. It's the type of word that you never really ever anticipate using in your vocabulary, like divorce, C -section or addiction. When a miscarriage does happen it can hit you like a truck. Unfortunately most women don’t have many real world examples of other women modeling miscarriage coping and support. I don’t recall women in my life sharing miscarriage stories with me. I don’t remember having miscarriage storylines in the shows that I watched on TV. My own doctor didn’t share many resources or support strategies with me. And support for partners - they get next to nothing. Does anyone care about miscarriage?
Can you remember a time when anyone talked about miscarriage with you? Can you remember a time when you initiated a conversation about miscarriage with someone else? I bet your answer is no. Where do you turn to when you and your partner get the news of a miscarriage? Trusted friends and family often don’t know how to support or what to say, how could they since women in their own life most likely didn’t know either how to model it for them. The word itself is one that is taboo for many perhaps because it refers to a death before 20 weeks of gestation. And one of the worst forms of death is that of a baby, or fetus, or embryo. Let's face it, miscarriage is a bummer of a topic. However, if so many women and partnerships are dealing with this devastating life event, why keep the topic in the closet? To avoid sad things? To put the past behind us? To silence the hopes for a future baby? To move forward with more positive things? Yes to all. But when it happens to you or your partner, at least in today’s modern world it's a uniquely lonely isolating event.
This is my misscarriage story. I experienced my first miscarriage when I was about 8 weeks pregnant and 30 years old. It was quite a shock because I had already had a child, and assumed that this second pregnancy wouldn’t be any different then the first. After positive home pregnancy, urine and blood tests, I thought that I was “all systems go” on being officially pregnant for the second time. It was still pretty early in the pregnancy, when my partner and I found out that the pregnancy wasn't viable during our first ultrasound appointment. Talk about an awkward situation. I’m half naked, vulnerable as heck with a goey probe up my you know what, when the O.B shared the sad news that I had a blighted ovum with an “irregular sac with no fetal pole” and sadly was not viable. WTF? So I wasn't leaving with one of those black and white baby blob photos?Talk about a 180 degree turn to a day. I didn’t even know how to react to the news, laying there on a paper sheet in a ugly blue gown leaking jelly glop. That was a bad blow on what was supposed to be a joyful day. My O.B. seemed really bummed out too like she wanted to wrap this shit show of an appointment up. She didn’t offer me too much counseling or information. Not to throw her under the bus. Maybe she did offer kind words and info- but I just couldn’t hear it.
My partner and I went home that day really confused about what the result of this ultrasound meant, what miscarriage means, and what my body had to do to heal. Was the irregular sac material still inside of me? Did I do something wrong to cause this? Does my body still think it is pregnant now that my mind knows it won’t work out? How would the blighted ovum get out? Would I suffer pain? When would I be back to normal? Why did this happen? What did my body let me down? Was I stupid to get excited about being pregnant too early? I had so many questions but couldn’t muster up to ask any of them.According to Google, a blighted ovum is when a fertilized egg implants in the uterus but doesn't grow into an embryo. This causes an early miscarriage. (The fact that I had to get that information from Google and not a trusted doctor or friend is exactly the type of miscarriage problem that I’m trying to point out.) As it turned out, my body seemed to know what to do all on its own and I had a spontaneous abortion. That was the end of the line for my first miscarriage.
I had my second miscarriage about 5 months later at about 11 weeks along. Same as before, I had positive results from at home pregnancy, urinalysis and blood tests. This second time around I was hopeful that my first miscarriage was just a fluke and with that out of the way I would have smooth sailing into this pregnancy. I was excited and relieved to be pregnant again. Way to go body! I even let it slip at about 10 weeks that we were pregnant. I was proud of my body again. Fast forward to about 11 weeks and another exposed half naked ultrasound with my O.B.had more bad news to share about what she found on the ultrasound screen. This time I had an abnormal ovum, and sadly it would not be a viable pregnancy. Was this seriously happening again? This time was supposed to be different. My partner and I had already been through this pain and heartbreak just 5 months earlier. Seriously again, WTF!?!
This second miscarriage was like squeezing lime juice into a cut that hasn’t fully healed yet. According to Google, an abnormal ovum may occur due to abnormal cell division. Your body stops the pregnancy because it recognizes this abnormality. So I guess my body did know a thing or two about healthy pregnancies, and perhaps it was performing its job of recognizing a problem early in this process. Still I was mad and disappointed that my body wasn’t successfully getting pregnant. Unfortunately for me this time my body decided not to have a spontaneous abortion. So I took 2 different rounds of “the abortion pill” misoprostol. Yes, that is one of the abortion pills that became illegal in 13 states in 2022. Ugh, now I got to join the abortion club, didn't see that one coming either. That pill made me feel the worst menstrual cramps of my life, like my uterus was being wrung out like a water soaked towel. After that I had a five week continuous period with large clots and clumps of red goo. My mind was like: what are those glops in the shower that is my abnormal ovum? Ahhh! For several days my showers were like a horror show. This was a really lonely time. Who could I vent to about the terrible abortion pill, my MEGA period and clumpy blood glop showers? I felt incredible shame for disclosing that I was pregnant, only to discover a few weeks later that we had lost the pregnancy. How was I so dumb to tell people before the magic 12 weeks mark? Miscarriages really suck.
After my jumbo period finally stopped, and I had returned to my new “I’ve had multiple miscarriages and an abortion” normal, my O.B. shared with me some options including taking medication given to women for infertility. I was a hard no on that at the time. While I believe that it is a valid option for women and I’m glad it was there if I needed it, I just wasn't ready in my stubborn “I was a college athlete” brain to admit my body’s defeat. I know that sounds really self-judging but it was my truth. Instead I started a different therapy suggested by my O.B, acupuncture. At first I was really skeptical of this option. It sounded really granola and hippy to me. Besides, I am a PhD trained scientist who follows western medicine. This would be my first foray into eastern medicine, and in retrospect I’m super glad that I did.
Acupuncture turned out to be a really fabulous option for me because it wasn’t a medication, which I wasn't ready for. Three months after my second miscarriage I started visiting an acupuncturist who specializes in women's health and pregnancy. My treatments involved hot tea, soothing music, incense, heat packs and of course acupuncture needles. I'll admit that they sometimes involved tears too. The treatments soothed my wounded spirit as much as it helped increase blood flow to my uterus. It was just the mind-body healing that this twice miscarried girl needed to rest, heal and restore. I brought home the weirdest tasting mud water type chinese herb tea drinks and gave them a try too. All in the name of giving my body a chance to recover, and prepare for another pregnancy hopefully somewhere in the future.
In the end, the best support I received during my year of miscarriages was a story from a friend. She shared with me that she too had suffered a miscarriage and that it was hard and that nothing much had really helped her. She was blessed to have a healthy pregnancy after that and gave birth to a wonderful second daughter. She told me that once she had her second daughter and met her and got to know her, it put her miscarriage in perspective. If the miscarriage hadn’t happened then she would have never had or met her current second daughter, who was awesome. I think that there is a saying somewhere that nature has a plan, or maybe it’s God who has a plan, or both. Either way, her story resonated with me and really I’m glad she shared it with me. Women need more of that. More sharing, more stories and more transparency about the sad and scary things we women endure. So thanks friend for sharing your story with me - you know who you are.
Here are some ideas of support I wished I received after my miscarriage:
Take me out for a meal or coffee and ask me about my miscarriage story.
Offer to drive or take me to my follow up OB appointments.
Give me an inexpensive healing treatment like a face mask, candle or bath soap.
Do something active with me like taking a walk or a bike ride.
Ask me how I’m feeling about my miscarriage. It ok to say the word.
Share your own miscarriage story with me so I don't feel so alone.
Check in with me in the weeks and months after the miscarriage.
Support me in front of others, not hidden away or in hushed tones.
Share resources that helped you out like books, therapists or referrals.
Support my partner too.
-Rhea P.
