In this world of “after” (which is how everything seems categorized in my brain now), there are so many things that drive me to distraction. Well-meaning people, people I know love me, can accidentally say the most awful things while their intent is to be helpful. Now, I’m well aware that how I feel about my miscarriage is not universal; everyone deals with grief in their own way. But for me, here’s a list:
Please don’t plaster on a beauty pageant smile, and dole it out while you simultaneously pretend that nothing ever happened. No miscarriage, no baby, no pregnancy.
Please, Dear God, do not tell me it’s somehow part of God’s plan. I have my beliefs, but I can tell you for damn sure I don’t believe in any god that would “plan” to end my baby’s life and bestow such pain on my family.
Please don’t approach me with any variation of the following:
“It wasn’t meant to be.”
“This will make you stronger.”
“There was something wrong with the baby. This is nature’s way of taking care of that.”
“There’s a rainbow after every storm.”
“You can always try again!”
“You’ll get over it one day.”
I know all these are meant to be a comfort, but they aren’t. They’re hurtful. They feel like they minimize what happened.
Please do acknowledge the loss. That the miscarriage was real and so far beyond sad, that before the miscarriage the baby was real, and subsequently the pregnancy. The biggest help for me have been those people who just told us or showed us they were here. Who listened without judgment or disgust when we needed to talk. I have such an important space in my battered heart for those people. And another thing; if you know someone who has been/is going through this, be sure to let them know that even after some time has passed, you still remember the life and the loss. It’s so difficult to feel like everyone has forgotten.
I can’t stand the term “miscarriage”. Makes it seem like NBD. But it’s a BFD to me and my husband.
I can’t stand hearing about how “common” it is. Because you know what’s more common? Not having a miscarriage.
I can’t stand when people ask if I’m okay. I just want to holler at them, “No, fool! I’m not okay! I won’t be for quite awhile!” Though some will be sincere in the asking, most of these people don’t actually want the truth.
I’m sure as time goes on other things will be added to this list. But this will be my only list-centered, slightly-ranty post about it. Promise. The thing is, talking about this loss is so taboo; there’s such a stigma. I feel like I have to spend a bunch of my time pretending to be “okay” so that other people don’t feel weird. Here, in this space, I won’t be restricting myself; I’ll be letting it all out.