I am not a statistic: Our story of miscarriage

I am not a statistic. This is what a close friend of mine told me how she felt after experiencing a miscarriage and her GP told her she’s lucky that she’s young, fit and healthy and not to worry as is happens to between 1 in 4 or 5 women.

I now understand her pain and how she felt. I’m glad that she felt able to share her story with me but also felt sadness that her story was offered to me as comfort as I’d now joined the club.

Since experiencing my miscarriage I have been overwhelmed first by the support of those who mean the most to us but also of the amount of friends and colleagues who have shared their personal stories with me.

I’ve cried with them and nodded in agreement as we each told our tales and genuinely felt each other’s pain. I feel as though I now have an unspoken connection with these women who have shared my fate.

Whilst I am so grateful that these brave woman have shared their stories with me, and some of them are so much more heart wrenching than my own, it has made me reflect on why miscarriage is still an unspoken topic and why these women only now felt able to share their stories with me.

I understand. I feel their pain. Their pain is my pain and anxiety and worry and frustration and exhaustion.

Feeling happy and relaxed two days before our miscarriage started

I’ve thought a lot myself about who I tell my story to and I’ve decided that I don’t want our experience to be a dirty little secret, I feel as though I need to share, to let it all out. I need an outlet for the past 18 months of torment that we’ve both been living with.

Equally I totally understand those who feel it should be a more private affair. Now that people know I feel as though I’m being watched and scrutinised by people looking for signs if I’m pregnant again. Now my employer knows I feel as though they won’t consider me for promotion opportunities as they know my plans now.

The feelings are still raw and it is an horrific experience that we have both been through. If I have experienced difficulty in finding support for women to be open that’s nothing compared to what Mr Mack has found with support for men coping with this too. It’s just so very sad that it does still continue to feel like a taboo subject, like an unwritten rule not to talk about it.

If one positive thing has come from my experience it’s that it’s brought us closer together as a couple as we support each other through the good days and the bad days and the downright darkest of days where it feels all the lights have been turned off for ever.

I have also felt such love and support from those around me and have been touched by their acts of kindness, from sending wishes, cards, flowers and gifts. I’m using this positive energy to look forward and keep moving onwards with our journey wherever it may lead.

The pain will ease with time but I know this is something that will forever be apart of our story and will leave a permanent marker in our hearts. In choosing to share my story, and not all of it I’d add as there are still some parts of our tale that I’d prefer to keep to ourselves, I sincerely hope that it may offer even a tiny amount of support to other couples experiencing loss.

As this is such a personal experience I wanted to explore with some other bloggers about things they found helpful or useful to them that others did or said after they had experienced miscarriage. Thank you to these wonderful ladies for sharing their stories with me.

Emma Chaplin – My family sent me a rose bush to plant in the garden. We now have three planted in the garden for the babies we’ve lost. They are our reminder than even through heartache and pain, we can look at something beautiful and remember them. – https://ourfairytaleadventure.com

Cheryld Dodd – My mum bought me a snow globe with an angel inside it which has pride of place on my desk, even more so since my mum passed away in September

Clara Wilcox – Came to visit with two shopping bags full of food (meals and snacks) to make sure that we ate. Then made copious amounts of tea and just listened.

Anoushka Yeoh – Two friends who said “Me too. Sucks doesn’t it?”. We hadn’t talked about it before and we all felt better knowing we weren’t alone.

Lucy Howard – To be honest, the most helpful thing was when friends didn’t actually say or do much. Just knowing they were there for me and that I could call for them at a moment’s notice was enough for me. And when I did see them I needed lots of hugs and for them to know that whether we talked about it or not was my choice and should be respected. Http://mrshsfavouritethings.com

Sally Newman – A friend just left me some flowers on my doorstep….no words were necessary. The worst is when people say “it wasn’t meant to be” or “you can always try again” especially when they know you struggled with Infertility. And considering I’ve suffered 7 losses now, I’ve been there a few times! www.motherand3sons.com

Sarah Hurst –  I’ll be honest, the one person who was actually really lovely and sent me a message via Facebook asking how I was and whether I needed to talk was Lucy Howard (who has already commented above). The few ‘friends’ who knew avoided the subject and knowing that there was one person somewhere who had been through similar and was There to talk to if I needed it really helped  www.arthurwears.com