Befriending Yourself Through the Loss of Miscarriage

I’ve been thinking a lot about the miscarriages lately. Maybe it’s because I have several of them on my caseload right now. It often happens like that. A while back, I recall having a lot of couples where one person was kinky and the other not so much. But these days, it happens to be women who’ve experienced miscarriages (defined as a perinatal loss prior to 20 weeks). I’ve been thinking about what makes this experience such a unique loss. Depending on your beliefs, it’s the loss of a human life, your baby son or daughter with whom you have already developed a strong bond. But miscarriages come with other losses. A miscarriage is the loss of your hopes & dreams; a vision of what the rest of your life would look like. It’s the loss of innocence, particularly for those younger women who may never have experienced a loss before.  A woman in her late twenties said to me recently that this was the first bad thing that has ever happened to her. Until then, she had succeeded at everything and gotten mostly everything she ever wanted. It’s also an existential type of loss – the loss of the illusion of control & how the world “should” be, how our female bodies “should” work, your life’s purpose.  

 I’ve also been thinking about the paradox of how common miscarriages are (10-20% of pregnant women experience them, and that figure is likely much higher because many women miscarry without knowing they are pregnant) and yet how alone women fee in the experience. Why, in this age of social media, blogs and support groups up the wazoo, is miscarriage still such a taboo subject?

But what I mostly wonder about is why do so many women avoid sharing their pain with otherwise supportive friends and family? What exactly is holding them back? Many of the women I sit with have supportive partners and friends they could potentially turn to. But they don’t. So, they feel alone. And their loss remains invisible. 

Miscarriage is not recognized as a significant loss in our culture

I have some ideas about why this might be. First of all, miscarriage is not recognized as a significant loss in our culture. There are no particular rituals specific to this type of loss. People don’t send flowers or drop off casseroles. The loss of a pet frankly gets more attention, these days. Women may feel like their loss isn’t big enough or important enough, as a result. 

Or maybe it’s because women don’t like to make other people feel bad or put others in potentially “awkward” positions. “My friends have their own problems” or “I don’t want to worry them” are common sentiments.

I also think that, on some level, women sometimes view a miscarriage as a personal failure.  I did something wrong. My body doesn’t work the way it’s supposed to. They blame themselves and feel guilty. It’s not logical, but I get it. We don’t generally share things we feel ashamed of.  

But here are the 2 biggies for why, I think, women may feel so alone.

First: They are unhappy with the kind of support or responses they get from others, so they shut down. Second: Because they’ve abandoned themselves. Stay with me on this.

“Get support;” “Reach out to others;” “You have to talk about it;” suggestions therapists commonly make to clients coping with loss. Good advice, but sometimes it’s easier said than done. Reaching out and being vulnerable is all well and good until someone we reach out to is not there for us (or we perceive them as not being there for us). Many of the women I sit with, day in and day out, complain of not getting the kind of support they need from others. Whether it’s someone saying something insensitive, a well meaning friend who is trying to be positive, a spouse who is problem solving –focusing on looking for the cause or trying again, a co-worker who turns it around and talks about herself, a family member who downplays the loss, “It was only 9 weeks,”  or offers empty clichés, “It just wasn’t meant to be,” many of our friends and loved ones will frankly disappoint us in how they respond. And this is part of what leaves us feeling so alone. But it doesn’t have to. Maybe we can learn to accept that sometimes people will just not understand or be there for us; and maybe that’s okay.  Because unfortunately that’s life. Hold up, Terri. Are you saying that we shouldn’t rely on others for support, that we shouldn’t expect our partners & loved ones to be there for us? Isn’t it a reasonable thing to expect in a marriage? What are relationships for if not for THAT? OK let’s all just settle down. Breathe. I guess what I’m saying is - it’s great if and when we get it. It feels amazing when our partner or best friend just listens and tells us they get it, they really get it.  But when we don’t get that, we don’t have to shut down, stew in our disappointment & frustration, or give up on our loved ones. We have options. That’s all I’m saying. After all, the people who love us are probably trying to do their best.

So then, what do we do when others are not there for us in the way we would like them to be?

One possible option would be to speak up and actually ask for the exact kind of support we’d like. And girl - don’t be shy about giving your partner or loved one the specific words. Because they don’t know. Only you know what you need. “Maybe you could just say/do this…” “It would be so nice if you just said this to me right now.” It’s curious…many of my clients resist doing this. “I shouldn’t have to ask.”   “It won’t be authentic if I have to give him/her the words. I get it. It’s hard for us to put themselves out there and ask directly for what we need, to ask for help, to take in & receive others’ support, and to trust.  It takes courage & maturity to take this risk.

So, if you’re not quite ready for that level of vulnerability, that’s okay. Fortunately, you have another excellent option for getting support. It’s called befriending yourself, and it’s all about working on your relationship with your SELF, your emotions, and how you TREAT yourself. 

Tell yourself that it’s okay to feel what you are feeling. All of it. Can you imagine for a moment that part of you who is hurting & lonely sitting across from you? Can you see her? Good. Tell her (you) that you see her pain. That it makes sense she is (you are) feeling this way, that you are sorry that she feels so sad or stuck. That she has every right to feel mad and envy when she sees happy pregnant women on social media flaunting their big bellies. It makes sense that she would worry about trying again. It makes sense that she still feels devastated and sad about missing her baby, and that she can’t help crying when the feelings hit her. Tell that part of you who is hurting that YOU are there for her. That you will ALWAYS be there for her. That she is NOT alone. Talk to her sweetly and lovingly. Ask her what she needs. Maybe a nap? Or a snack? Or kitty on her lap? She absolutely does not need a pep talk or a logical explanation, or booze to numb her feelings. She needs validation, soothing, reassurance. She needs permission to grieve for however long it takes.

Trust me, this process works. But it takes practice. At first it might feel awkward, talking to yourself like that. But believe me, of all the self-care practices out there, this is the one that can give you almost immediate results. You’ve been through a lot. Don’t you deserve to feel better & have even more love in your life?

If you’d like to get in touch to talk about pregnancy loss or miscarriage, you can check out how I can help you here, or get in touch to schedule a consultation here.