Oct 23 2008
One month out
The author of the NY Times article linked below had it right when she said that a miscarriage isn’t an event with a defined timespan - its beginning may be dated with either a gut feeling, a twinge of pain, or another physical symptom; its end, for many couples, never comes. The physical aspects may last from days to weeks to months. The grief lasts for varying amounts of time, and generally - hopefully - eases with time, but the memory of the child never leaves. The unfulfilled hopes and dreams - for that child, at least - remain unfulfilled.
A miscarriage is a loss that is hard to mark for many couples - some had not even shared the news before the loss occurred, leaving them the choice of either sharing both the pregnancy and the loss in the same breath, or of never sharing the loss at all. Some are able to mark the loss with a burial, a memorial service, or another physical marker of the loss - while others whose losses occur very early, such as ours, are left with no physical reminders of the baby who was lost. Friends and family are often at a loss as to how to respond to and support those who have had a loss during pregnancy, birth or early infancy, and may not understand that a pregnancy known for even a few hours is a pregnancy valued and a child loved, and thus a loss to be mourned. Yet support comes, as it has to us, in often surprising ways - an unexpected card, an email, a hug from someone I don’t even know at my parents’ church. It comes from friends who have also lost babies, babies I never even knew existed, friends who choose to share their pain in hope of easing mine. It comes in the form of online friends with shared experiences, in the form of articles written by women who know my pain.
There are a few articles I’d like to share - I know I’ve written on our loss, as has Michael-John, but it’s always good to hear it from another perspective. This article is from the New York Times on one woman’s experience with a loss. A second looks at ways several women mourn their losses. This third, also from Mothering, is another woman’s experience. They are tough to read, but may give some insight into the process. They will hopefully give you more understanding of miscarriage, or help you remember you are not alone, as they have done for me. Most importantly, I hope they give you the courage to tell someone who’s had a loss, “I’m sorry.”
Thank you all again for your love and support, for your condolences and prayers. I/We rely on them, and will continue to as the months go on.