May 17th marks the 4th anniversary of miscarrying my first child. In some ways, this seems like another life time, but in other ways it seems as yesterday. When I reflected on this portion of my life, I realized there were many perceptions I had concerning my miscarriage that did not align with reality. I really felt like sharing some of these in hopes that maybe it can help another grieving mother. My experience is that of my own. I know many women who share similarities and differences, but please understand these are my perceptions and mine alone.
1. I did something wrong.
Around the time I completed my Masters Degree in Special Education, I discovered I was expecting. My husband, Cody, and I were truly over the moon with excitement over me finally finishing six years of college and growing our family. On the day of my graduation, Cody, shared that he planned to take me on a weekend getaway to celebrate all of our good news. We left later that day to visit one of our favorite vacation destinations- the Great Smoky Mountains. I remember sobbing in the hotel room on that weekend trip because I had eaten some beef jerky. Food was not enjoyable for me because I could not eat before quickly researching to see if it was considered safe for pregnancy. I had read a warning online after consuming some of the beef jerky. Of course, this memory flashed back to me when I found out at the second ultrasound my baby was deceased. My perception was clearly I did something wrong. This was my fault.
To this day, I still do not know why I miscarried. According to my midwives, the 10th week of development for babies is a major milestone. If there is an issue, the baby may not survive past this week. I have learned to give myself grace because I genuinely do not know what happened. My midwives do believe there was a genetic issue, but there is no proof. The reality is that sometimes miscarriages happen and there is no explanation.
2. I am alone.
My first cousin and both of my sisters were expecting at the same time as me. We have a picture of the four of us together at my oldest sister’s gender reveal. I still smile about that picture because although my sisters knew I was expecting, my cousin did not. The due dates were in May, September, and then December. My cousin’s due date being December 5th and mine December 10th. I had friends who had successful births and pregnancies. I did not worry about my baby because I had such positive connections with births in general. When I miscarried, I felt very alone. I did not know of another person close to my age in my circle of family and friends who had lost their baby. My perception was that everyone around me does not truly understand my pain because they do not share my exact experience.
What I failed to realize is that many, many women unfortunately walk down this road. According to research shared with me by my midwives, 1 in 4 women miscarry. Literally within my own family, I became that statistic. I began to realize other women who I am extremely close to miscarried. No, the majority of these ladies were not close to me in age, but I personally knew them. I just did not know this detail in their life. The reality is that I was not the first person to experience miscarriage. Unfortunately, more women within my family and friends have shared this experience with me. The number has grown since my own miscarriage as many have reached out to me for support.
3. I will always grieve.
I went to a baby shower after my miscarriage. Some may have considered this a mistake, but I was excited for this person. I was emotionally fine going to their celebration. Panic did not set in for me until she began to open gifts. I sat there with thoughts racing through my mind. “You will never experience this.” “This is what you are missing out on.” I could not take it. I quickly walked out the door because I could barely hold back the sobs. Grief. Sometimes it would creep up on me when I least expected it. My perception was that my life will always be this way, and grief will be the uninvited guest who long overstays their welcome.
Before my miscarriage, I was asked to participate in a friend’s book project by sharing a testimony of my mom’s miraculous healing from paralysis. The book, What Real Faith Looks Like, is a compilation of trials and victories from many Christian women, and you can find it here. One of the ladies who contributed is the wife of a minister that I have known for many years. Their family has served in many areas of ministry: Evangelism, Pastoring, Youth Camps, and Kid’s Crusades just to name a few. I always looked up to this couple because there was so much joy and purpose in their ministry. They just seemed happy in their Christian walk. As I read her testimony, I discovered they had a stillborn daughter. I could not stop crying as I poured over the text. My reality became this- if this couple can serve God with joy after what they experienced, then I can too. Yes, I still grieve. The month of May and December will always be months that bring stillness and reflection of my first baby. I know and understand though that bad things happen to people from all walks of life. This couple opened up my eyes that I can still be joyful in my journey, no matter what challenges I may encounter.
If you have experienced a miscarriage, I am so sorry for your loss. I am sure that you have your own perceptions of your experience that you have worked through, or maybe you’re still working through them. I have reflected on the following verse many times since miscarrying.
Blessed be God, even the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies, and the God of all comfort; Who comforteth us in all our tribulation, that we may be able to comfort them which are in any trouble, by the comfort wherewith we ourselves are comforted of God.
2 Corinthians 1:4
I believe this verse is true. We cannot comfort someone else in a tribulation unless we ourselves have been in trouble. I can truly say I feel empathy for someone when I know they have a miscarriage. God sometimes allows situations for us to be his hands and feet to exemplify his comfort in dark times. Do not allow your miscarriage to make you bitter, but better in bringing comfort to someone else. The reality is many women may need to hear your voice.
Until next time,
Jennie