I’ve been thinking about writing this post and have gone back and forth about whether or not I should. Loss is a difficult topic to write about, but especially hard when the loss is not your own. As parents, we all hope that our children do not have to face hardships, but as living and breathing people, we know inevitably they will. We cannot protect them.
I have experienced loss in my lifetime, but I’ve not experienced a miscarriage. I am one of those lucky women who had three pregnancies and three children. So when my oldest daughter, Maggie, announced her pregnancy last November, I had no reason to believe that it would be anything but normal. We celebrated with her sisters. She was feeling nauseous and tired and enjoying it. Mid-December, I waited to hear about her doctor’s appointment. I crumpled when she said there was no heartbeat. The ultrasound showed the baby had not developed past 8 weeks. Her body, however, still thought she was pregnant.
The next day, I went with her to the surgery center for her DNC. Maggie cried quietly. I sat near her and listened. She talked about how she could now relate to her friends when it happened to them. There is a scary statistic that many first pregnancies end in miscarriage. She knew this. She knew that the baby was not viable. That something had gone wrong. That it wasn’t meant to be. But even so, a new child died that day. There was no way to deny the loss.
My daughter realized that through her pain and grief she was learning a life lesson. Little did she know how soon her counseling would be needed. A few weeks ago, she got a call from my middle daughter, Katherine. On the previous Saturday, Maggie and I had talked about how she was being weird, unusually cheerful. We thought something was up. But once again, a new baby was not to be. Katherine had taken a pregnancy test on Saturday and was waiting to tell us the following weekend when we’d all be together. On Tuesday, bleeding started and her blood test came back negative. A quick drop on the roller-coaster that took her breath away. She tried to see the positive side of things, but she was devastated.
There is so much joy and hope and love in watching your daughters get married and start their lives with someone they deeply love. We expect the best. We hope for new life. I’ve even been a little pushy about wanting to be a grandmother. I didn’t expect this heartache, this loss. I have no explanation for it.
Grief over miscarriage is a private grief. There are no ceremonies to offer condolences. In fact, most people don’t talk about it. The loss is buried deep into the woman’s soul.
As their mother, I grieve with them. As their mother, I hold their hearts in mine. I’m with them through it all, joy and pain, love and loss. I am holding onto faith that there will be new children in our future, but for now, I grieve with my daughters.
I’m so sorry…I know so, so, so many people who have walked this road. How fortunate your daughters are to have you there to walk beside them. Praying for babies very soon.
Thanks. There will be new babies, but it’s so much harder than I thought it would be. Your comment is comforting.
Dear, sweet Margaret, my heart aches for the grief that you and your family are enduring. I will keep you close in prayer.
I am so sorry Margaret, for Maggie and Katherine. I do know this pain and many others who have as well. Sending you all hope and prayers.
You took the pain and wrote beauty. I know having you and having each other is what they need most. You are in my thoughts. Thank you for sharing your story – there are so many women who carry this story in silence.
Clare
Margaret, I’m so sorry to hear this. I’ll be sending extra love to them & to you & Jeff. I love you, Jen
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I’m so sorry for the pain and suffering you must feel on your own children’s behalf. I have three girls. Their pain is very much mine as well. I think the important part of being able to grieve is doing it with those we love. There are no words to take away the pain, nor should there be. Thank you for beautifully illustrating the importance of taking time to grieve and support our girls.
Oh! I am so sorry for their losses – and yours. Thank you for sharing this story, for talking about that which so many hide away in pain and silence. May you all soon experience the happy side of pregnancies. Sending you hope and love.
I’m sorry to hear of your daughters’ loss, and then of course, it is yours, too, Margaret. You are brave to share this so that others can also feel comfort. It’s good to know that you have each other to lean on.
I am sorry to hear this. You are correct however, that many women experience miscarriage and the sadness and grief that go along with it are not talked about. Hopefully, with time, the wounds will heal and they’ll each carry a new baby again – this time to term. I know their grief well – I also have 3 children, but had four miscarriages. It is devastating. I am so glad to know your daughters have you and each other for support through this sad time.
Thanks for sharing your experience. I know they are common but still so heartbreaking.
Yes. I hope I didn’t mean to sound unaffected or unconcerned. Actually, I have so much empathy for what they are going through. It is a heartbreaking experience and our hearts broke each time with each miscarriage. In fact, it got to the point that I did not tell family/friends I was pregnant until after 12 weeks, due to trying to protect them (and I guess myself) from having to share sad news. Instead of joy about being pregnant, I began to feel fear and uncertainty. I hope, with all my heart, things go better next time for each of your daughters. I think it really is something that should be talked about more from a societal standpoint. I also wrote a blog post on this recently. Thanks & take care.
Writing about it was important. I’m glad you did. Sharing grief lets people know how to support you. I hope that all of our comments help at least a little.
They do. That is something I forget about when I’m writing but the support means so much.
I’m holding your daughters in my heart. It’s amazing how little miscarriages are talked about considering how common they are. I had one between my 1st and 2nd child and it was devastating. Sending you love.
What a painful journey you and your girls have been on together in such a short period of time. You’re right when you liken it to a roller coaster. I cannot imagine the grief and pain, but I know that it is real, and that it does sit deep inside each of them. They are so blessed that you are nearby and can offer a shoulder to lean on and an ear to just listen. My thoughts and prayers have not left all of you, my friend!
I am so sorry, Margaret. I know this pain, this “private grief.” I saw it buried deep within my son’s soul. It is good that you wrote of it. My thoughts and prayers are with you and your daughters.
I am so sorry, Margaret, for your daughters, your sons-in-law, for you and your husband. I am grateful you are such a close and loving family, for that must help a great deal.
I’m so lucky, really, to have such a close, loving family. Thanks for your thoughts.
Thank you for writing about a topic that I still struggle with. I had 3 children, but when the youngest was 10, I wanted one more. To make a long, painful, story short, I had one natural miscarriage, 2 ended with a D& C when my body wouldn’t, and the last failed effort was ended by miscarrying at home with a pill.
Now, 16 years later, I am at peace with my 3 grown children and done wondering what if, but it’s a loss I can’t write about.
Sadly, last November I experienced something worse, losing a grandson to the strange condition of pre-eclampsia. That is a loss I shall never get over.
Thank you for sharing your story. Maybe it’s time to write about mine.
There is so much pain that we know nothing about. This silent suffering. I’m so sorry for your grandson’s death. I was talking to my daughter today and we were saying you never are really all set, even if you make it to 12 weeks. Writing helps, but more important to me are the stories people are opening up about in response. Thanks for sharing.
Thank you for sharing your story- as you can see so many people have connections, but I know that does not make your pain any less. I am thinking of you all today.
I’ve been thinking a lot about grief lately and have been writing about it as well. I’m so terribly sorry for you and your daughters, Margaret. I hope that writing about your loss and the comments shared here helped bring you some peace. My thoughts are with you all.
Margaret, sending hugs out to you for your daughter’s losses. I’m glad you were able to write about it, it’s very difficult and so out of our control. I had two miscarriages myself, and my sister experienced one also. They are soul searching experiences. I took to my art to help and did a painting about women’s fertility and bees–trying to turn negative to positive. I’m glad you have this close relationship with your daughters and send positive thoughts for all.
Writing, like art, is comforting. Thanks for sharing your experience.
Just read this, Margaret. What a difficult thing to write about… and to go through, of course. Back in the day, I remember being pretty shocked at just how common miscarriage, infertility, and all sorts of other problems with pregnancy actually were! The fact that these things are never talked about openly makes them so much harder to deal with. Keeping your daughters in my heart.
Thanks, Michelle. There is so much to be thankful for: health, success in careers, and loving husbands. We are counting our blessings.
Thank you for writing about it! When I went through this, other people’s experiences helped me more than anything. ❤ Ruth, thereisnosuchthingasagodforsakentown.blogspot.com