I think… I’m going to live.
Maybe that seems dramatic. In fact, it most likely does if you’ve never tried to have a baby for 2.5 years, got pregnant when you’d given up, found out you had not one but two little grains of rice in there, and then, lost them both.
I have come to terms with the fact that most people don’t get it. I have come to terms with the fact that miscarriage is a topic that people think they understand in theory and then, when faced with it in real life, come to a whole new “understanding.”
I have learned. I have learned. I have learned.
And, I suppose that is something to say. It is perhaps the most you can hope for from something that devastates you to your very core. Something that — for me — has challenged my very beliefs about life, about fairness, about the notion of a good and just Creator in this world.
I have learned a lot.
1. I’ve learned what not to say to someone after a miscarriage. I’ve heard the topic of miscarriage referred to as the “silent tragedy.” And, I understand that now. I think it’s something that is so scary to contemplate, people need to minimize it in order to even address it. I cannot tell you how many times I heard derivatives of, “Better luck next time,” or “It wasn’t even a baby yet.” I cannot tell you how many times I’ve seen women go into all-out hysterical panic mode when a new boyfriend breaks up with them, and yet, we are supposed to just shake it off when the embryo in our womb we’ve already emotionally bonded with dies? Am I the only one that just finds that insane?
2. I’ve learned the value of friendships. In this situation, there were certain people in my life that really stepped up to the plate on this one. They listened when I needed to rage against the machine, and stepped away when I needed to fold into myself (whi
ch was often). Thank you, loves.
3. I’ve learned that I really do have a partner in my life. In the five years I have loved Ryan, I never loved and appreciated him more than I did during those five hours I was in labor. When we married, we promised “for better or worse.” He meant it.
4. I’ve learned that having a baby is more important to me than almost anything in the entire world. It is more important to me than having a career, more important than publishing a book, more important than owning a home, more important than having the freedom to travel. When I was pregnant, I felt like I saw clearly for the first time in my life. Nothing I have ever wanted or dreamt even came close to how badly I wanted my babies.
5. I’ve learned that people do these things. “People do these things” is a phrase my mother and I have traded through a few rough times in life. It refers to all the amazing people we’ve known and haven’t known in life who’ve done things beyond our comprehension. And, yet, they come out on the other side, war worn, yet ready to trudge on. They move on, and if they can, I guess I can too.
Of course, of course, this isn’t all I’ve learned. And, my learning isn’t done yet either. I’ve learned that grief doesn’t just strike those experiencing the tragedy. I’ve learned that people struggle terribly with words in times of tragedy and one should have compassion for that. I’ve learned that your family loves you, and that’s a blessing beyond words. I’ve learned that the kindness of strangers can completely change your day.
So many things. So, so many things… I’ve learned that no matter how much you don’t want it to, life moves on and you have to go with it.
It is the way of things.
“Serenity comes when you stop expecting and start accepting.”
You’re so strong!! So strong! To be able to share what you’ve been through, what you’re going through and to be honest about it. That takes a lot. You are beautiful and amazing and Ryan is a trooper. You guys are like… Sonny and Cher or, Bert and Ernie, or… I don’t know, peas and carrots? Lol.
Thank you for allowing us to be on this journey with you. As you can see, I’m one of those people who never know what to say… but I know you’re the bomb shorty
Love you girl!!! xoxo
Just wanted to comment about #1 – a nurse told my friend after her 3rd miscarriage “you were barely pregnant.”. That finally got her to find a new doctor!
We all try to be fixers, when the thing that helps a grieving person most is a few kind words. I am one of the many many women who’s had a miscarriage, but I would never say I know how you feel because we all experience things differently. I will say that it gets easier, only because it can’t get much harder.
Take care.
have there been any words or acts of kindness that you’ve found comforting?
I’ve had friends/family members have a miscarriage. I don’t know what to say. I don’t want to say the wrong thing (Some of the things that people say have been down right insensitive) – but in the meantime, I can’t think of ANYTHING to say, so I’ve said nothing… which I almost feel is worse.
Oh, for sure. I think the most sensitive thing that people have said is, “I don’t know what to say, so I just want you to know that I’m so, so sorry.” It really is enough, and I appreciate it a lot. A LOT.
I think people feel the need to try to “fix it,” so they want to say more and try to MAKE you look at your loss differently. Or, they want to FORCE you to see the bright side. That’s not super helpful and it puts a lot on a grieving heart. For example, if someone lost a husband, who would say, “Well, there will be other husbands?…” Yet, people seem to think it’s okay to say, “There will be other babies” to you at a time when you are so emotionally attached to the baby or babies you lost. True or not, it’s like a knife in the heart.
<3 everything you said. <3 you guys very much.
Beautiful…beautiful post and a beautiful you. Love….
<3 S
Oh…I don’t think you have to have the perfect words or anything like that Jasmine. Nor can you fault others or yourself for not understanding your pain and what you are going through.
But you have to remember that everyone has their own struggles and experiences in life. Your are one of millions of women that have had miscarriages – have you read anything about women that went through this? Their thoughts might be of help as well. But, as I said, while someone else may not be able to relate to you now, they may have – or may have to in the future – have to deal with illness, death, heartbreak. Who are we to judge right?
I am reminded of the need to be grounded and grateful when I walk into work everyday and meet the beautiful 20-year-old that had her life ahead of her – and then became paralyzed in a car accident. Imagine the life she could have had. Imagine the anger she must feel everyday because no one can really, truly understand what she was robbed of and what she has to live with. Easy for us to be sympathetic…but we get to walk out with our two legs…and this is just but one example.
That does NOT take away from your experience and sorrows though! You have every right to those and I can’t even imagine.
I wish I had perfect words. I don’t.
Things are.
I’ve learned from you too. Just following along with you has brought me so much insight into the vast depths of loss. Thank you for sharing & making the world a better place.
I stumbled upon your blog and just wanted to let you know you have my sympathies. I recently suffered my second miscarriage, and you eloquently put into words the pain that is simply not comparable to anything else. I’ve given up on trying to help my friends and family understand what, specifically, it is like. Just wanted to thank you for this post–I look forward to reading your blog.