Carrying The Weight Of A MiscarriageAura Schwartz

I started the lucky #9 blog many moons ago because I felt there was not enough word on the street about the difficulties – and often muted truths – of parenting, specifically mommying.  Everyone spoke about the joys of being a new mom, but the exhaustion, stress, loneliness, postpartum and did I mention exhaustion? - were rarely talked about. And so I did what I’ve been doing since I was a little girl: I started spreading the word.  This word was not a warning to unsuspecting soon-to-be moms to stop in their tracks and run far away from children; it was simply a warning from an educational point of view. As in, heads up, soon-to-be parents, you may have some really sh**ty days, but don’t worry, we have all been there or are still there and we feel you. I sincerely hope that my blogs accomplish this goal.

So in true lucky #9 form, I want to broach another subject that is not really talked about: miscarriages.

Having just had one quite recently, the pain and sadness of it was difficult for me.  I was early, yet my excitement at growing my family was huge. My husband and I were so joyful to be adding another soul into our family – a sibling for our son Kol. I was bursting with happiness and couldn’t control myself, so I told some family members and shared the happy news with our parents. After all,  I felt that if anything bad were to happen, I would probably tell them anyway – of course thinking in my head that that’s just something you say because nothing is really going to happen.  I already have one beautiful, healthy boy with no complications, so I believed that of course this go around will just follow suit.  But it didn’t.

I went for an ultrasound and there was just no heartbeat, no movement on-screen. The emptiness of the picture on the monitor stared back at me. I went into crisis mode. I didn’t cry; I simply asked the doctor what this meant, what I should do and how I should move forward. He gave me all the right medical answers, we made schedules and booked procedures and moved forward.

Finally I got home and could hear my thoughts. All my thoughts, my visions of pregnancy, labor, early motherhood, siblings… it all seemed to empty out like the picture on the monitor, and left behind was nothing but an ache, a sadness for what could have been, a sense of loss for this soul inside of me that was no more.

What do you do with this kind of loss? It is understandably private for most people. Most women I have talked to have had one or more miscarriages. Only several weeks pregnant, one might not have even shared the news yet. But people were telling me I was glowing, my skin, my hair was sparkling. And now, I have broken out, my hair is shedding as it did after I gave birth to Kol, and once again I am reminded about loss. Move forward. Move forward.

This is what I hear in my head: move forward. Take the time the doctor says to take and then try again. Move forward.

I believe strongly in the mantra “dust yourself off and try again”, but I have never just moved forward. I have always taken time to acknowledge where I am emotionally and how I feel internally. I dissect things until I am comfortable with them. So I thought about my loss during the week I found out about it. I bought myself a couple of bouquets of my favorite flowers in honor of the soul that was not to be ours, in honor of the soul that I was lucky to house for a couple of weeks, in honor of the soul that brought a glow to my skin and a sparkle to my hair. I set the flowers around the house in every room and as I passed them over the next couple of days, I smiled and greatly enjoyed the scent of them. After the week was done and my blood finally started flowing, I placed the flowers in the bin.

I am starting on a vitamin regimen my doctors are suggesting for me. I have learned that a good way to go about taking care of yourself after a miscarriage is to make sure you are sufficient in your vitamins. You need plenty of iron since you lose a lot of blood (recommended is 2 to 3 25mg of Iron capsules). Take a pre-natal vitamin so you make sure to get all the good stuff that comes in that little bottle (speak to your doctor to find out which brand is good for you). Eat healthy food, exercise when you are ready and the best advice I received so far was from none other than my mother, who suggested to do something nice for myself. I am thinking a day at the spa is in order. I will do all the things I am supposed to while I wait a couple of months for my body to heal. And then, I plan to move forward.

Featured image via ShutterStock

comments

Please help us maintain positive conversations by refraining from posting spam, advertisements, and links to other websites or blogs. we reserve the right to remove your comment if it does not adhere to these guidelines. thanks! post a comment.

  1. Thank you for this. Earlier this month I had a miscarriage at eight weeks. It was my first pregnancy and we had been trying for a few months, so I was super excited. I didn’t realise until I had to go through it what was involved medically. I had to make so many tough decisions regarding what procedure I wanted and what I wanted to do with the foetus. People assume you’re lucky that it happened ‘early’ but they have no idea how devastating it is. Thank you for sharing your story and helping me to find a way to move on. I hope we both come away next time with a happy ending.

    • Thank you for sharing Emma. I am so sorry you had to go through this as well. The tough decisions are all apart of it and something I did not expect in my fragile state. I have heard that many people get pregnant right after a miscarriage and I wish you a healthy and easy future pregnancy! It is good to keep connecting with friends on this topic as more people than we think experience this as well.

  2. I have given the horrible subject of miscarriages a lot of thought lately, as my professor just had one very late in her pregnancy and had to take 7 months of work because of how depressed she got. I really can’t imagine anything worse than to find out you don’t even get to meet your baby, after all that excitement and joy. I’m sorry this happened to you. However, you are brave and strong, and although times are very hard right now, time does heal. Not everything, but more than it seems it will right now. For now, give your body time to rest, and simply enjoy life. The little one would have wanted that for you.

  3. This is so beautifully written. Your story is heartbreaking, but filled with hope.

  4. I am so sorry for your loss, sending you strength and love during this time. Thank you for your bravery in sharing your story and in shining a light on an often times not talked about subject. My blog, Ever Upward http://www.everupward.org, is about my losses during IVF. Thank you again. Justine

    • I am so sorry to hear about your IVF losses. I do not have experience in that but I hear it is very painful. I find you very brave to share that with the world!

      Aura Schwartz | 2/19/2014 06:02 pm
  5. I’m so sorry for your loss. Thank you for sharing such a vulnerable, painful experience on this platform, so those who don’t understand the pain can at least understand the feelings, thoughts, and rationale behind it.