“Last week was a very hard baby loss week for me, and envy was a huge struggle. It felt like a battle just to react kindly toward people who weren't trying to hurt me, but the blessings in their lives were exposing everything mine is lacking. I feel horribly selfish even saying that, but pregnancy announcements especially cause such a deep feeling of loss, it almost feels like being hit by a car. I gave up on keeping it together several times last week, and cried deeply. One of the hardest parts of a miscarriage is that it’s not just one devastating moment....there are thousands of devastating realizations. Thousands of realizations that something horrible has happened, and no one is expecting you to still be in so much pain.” I remember writing this 2 years ago as the tears wouldn’t stop. It had been over 3 months since we found out that my baby’s heart had stopped beating, and the grief wasn’t getting easier. My grief was just changing. Changing in frequency of tears, changing in intensity, changing in how I would dare to think about getting pregnant again, but it was still there. There's nothing wrong with not "moving on" or "getting over" a miscarriage. You lost something very precious, and even getting pregnant again (the one thing often brought up as the cure for your sorrow after a miscarriage) won't give you back the baby you lost. That loss deserves to be acknowledged. You deserve to grieve not only the baby you lost, but the child and adult they would've become.
Here are a couple simple things I did to acknowledge my loss after our miscarriage.
• I named my baby. If you desire to, I would suggest doing this. I know it felt kind to my heart not to refer to our baby as "the miscarriage" but by a name. I felt like our baby was a girl, so I refer to her as a she, and we named her Macyn. • I created a memorial for her in our home. It wasn't immediately after our loss, but when I felt like I could handle it, I hung the only sonogram we had from our pregnancy next to a sign that says "He heals the brokenhearted." It was hard to look at, and still is sometimes if I'm honest, but I'm grateful for the reminder that Macyn was a real person, even if that fact makes her death harder.
• I was open about our loss. I knew before we even attempted to get pregnant again I needed to further process our loss by publishing a blog post about our experience. For me it was so helpful to not have our loss be something that was secret, to have people mourn with us, and for women to know that I was a safe person if they ever went through the same thing.
• I had a support person. God was so gracious to introduce me to my best friend only a few months before we both would go through a miscarriage. This friend was an invaluable resource while I was going through this. To this day she knows when to be sensitive to my loss, and sends me a text on my due date with Macyn as well as the anniversary of her death that others wouldn't think to do. I know most people won't have a built in support person, but there are tons of online groups or if you feel comfortable being open about your loss you'll find many women in your circle who have gone through the same thing.
My Mama heart goes out to you as you grieve your precious baby/babies. No Mom should ever have to feel the grief that we carry everyday, but I hope that you find ways to acknowledge your loss and heal.
If you have not lost a baby, thank you for reading this. Your understanding of this topic can go a long way to loving the 1/4 of mothers around you that have lost babies. "He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds." Psalms 147:3 Written by: Elisabeth Bennett Mama to Macyn (angel baby) and Wellington (18 mo old rainbow baby)