Four words that chill me to the spine. Four words that changed my state of mind from extreme joy to overwhelming heartache. I had a miscarriage.
She was just 8 gestational weeks when her tiny heart stopped beating. I believe it was a girl for some reason, although I will truthfully never know. I had already named her. I longed to meet her and put her in little booties, wrap her in my arms and brush her hair. But that would never happen. Life didn’t give her the chance. It was time to let her go.
I chose to have a scheduled D&C instead of letting my body “pass things naturally” in due time. My heart couldn’t bare the waiting.
The doctor’s words when I asked why it happened kept ringing in my head,”it’s just one of those things.” Being the kind of person that needs to know everything in fine detail, I had to figure out what, how and why so I turned to the only thing I knew – Google.
The statistics according to verywell.com ( updated April 2016) were rather shocking.
About 30% of pregnancies end in miscarriage.
Yes, just under a third. One. In. Three. If these statistics were so high, where were all these women hiding? I, for one, have only heard of a couple of incidences if posted on social media but surely there are hundreds – if not thousands of others that are suffering the same pain in their dark silence.
After my doctor gave the all clear, I knew that I wanted to start trying again soon and by the grace of God, Alexander made himself comfy in my belly. Those two little blue lines gave me back the hope I once lost and my heart started filling with warmth once again.
Many people know that October is breast cancer awareness month and start adorning pink ribbons in support but did you know that October is also National Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Month?
No? Me neither.
A Facebook post on a friend’s timeline stating “Breaking the silence and telling the world I lost a baby” made me think- why do we keep so quiet about miscarriage? I can understand if it is something personal that a woman chooses to keep private but having gone through it myself, I know it’s not only that. There’s almost an unspoken stigma attached to it as if it was a failure, a fault on the woman’s part or a mistake that “wasn’t meant to be.”
Well, I think it’s about time we do break that silence. Enough of blaming ourselves. Enough of thinking it was our fault or that it could have been prevented. There is no shame in mourning your child’s life in utero no matter how short it was. I urge women to express and share their emotions, to support and respect eachother’s experiences and to be able to have the chance to free their hearts.
Our babies fly with the angels and will remain in our hearts and minds forever more.
Fly high, my baby.
Statistics source: https://www.verywell.com/making-sense-of-miscarriage-statistics-2371721