I found out that I had a missed miscarriage on the Monday of Holy Week this year, I then had an ERPC on Holy Thursday and stayed home for the rest of Easter Weekend. It was my first pregnancy. My husband and I really wanted this baby. I was 12 weeks. I am currently working on a blog post about the whole experience of being pregnant and then having a miscarriage, but it’s getting so long. In the mean time, instead of writing my whole story I have decided to just write this quick post.
I have read over and over a million articles about miscarriage and also getting pregnant again. I am also reading a book, considering buying a second one. I look in the mirror and my eyes see the same person, but my mind and my soul feel as if I have aged a few years over such a short time. It’s not that I am not the same positive and life loving person, it’s just that being that person takes a little more effort now.
When I was pregnant I had, at some point, read the statistic: 20% of pregnancies end in miscarriage. That was jarring to read but I had hardly ever heard anyone talk about it, so I figured for whatever reason that it was unlikely I would have one. I fully immersed myself into this pregnancy. I sang for my child even though she barely had ears yet. I knew she would get the message somehow! She has a soul, she’s connected to me, so she must be able to “hear” me. I sang songs that I wanted her to hear and learn from. I sang songs about love, life, strength, heart break, pain, resilience. When my husband and I had an argument (I can’t even remember what the argument was about now) I told her afterwards that this is ok because there will always be arguments, they happen, but our love would always be there to carry and support her.
I miss the company. I miss the feeling that I was carrying a tiny person with me every day, who I would eventually get to show all of the beauty of this world to. I still sing to her. And send my little random messages. Any time I pray it is for her, I pray that God is taking care of her even though I was upset with Him for a long time. I knew in my mind that He does things for reasons that I may never understand.
For a while I was in two minds about writing anything. I’ve always had this irrational superstition in my mind that if I talk about something, I will jinx it. But the more I read, the more I realise and agonise over this silly lack of information and awareness! It was so naive of me to think that I would not be part of the 20% statistic. 20% is a big number. But when everyone and every bubbly pregnancy website seems to skip the subject as if it’s nothing then what am I supposed to think? When I told 3 of my friends (who I had not actually told about the pregnancy in the first place) I got back 3 warm messages, 2 of which stated that both of them had been born after their mothers had also suffered through miscarriages. So why the silence? In an age when so many things are well out in the open there is no need for all of this silence about ANYTHING. Even as a feminist and also a Catholic at the same time, I should be allowed to say all of these things and feel acknowledged and understood by both sides.
So here I am, I am open to talk about this because my pregnancy, my baby, has become as much a part of me as my religion, my marriage and my culture. All of these aspects of my being which are usual topics of discussion and expression. So I have no reason to hide one.
Love.
The Story Of My Dark Side 