If you’ve ever suffered a miscarriage, you know it sucks big time and is an extremely difficult and confusing life experience. I’ve lost two babies, and I am very familiar with just how crazy the mind gets in the process. This article will normalize some of the weird feelings you might have after a miscarriage while also bringing comfort to your hurting heart.
Whatever you are feeling is normal, mama. Miscarriage really does suck, but you aren’t alone.
Here’s what you’ll find in this article:
How Common Is Miscarriage?
I’ve discussed this in “4 Painful Realities Of Fertility And Pregnancy Loss“, but it’s definitely worth mentioning again: miscarriage is extremely common, yet it’s still such an awkward topic.
According to the Washington Post, 1 out of every 4 pregnancies will end in miscarriage. It’s likely that the actual number is even higher, as many miscarriages can occur before a woman even knows she’s pregnant.
While we probably won’t ever know exactly how many pregnancies actually do end in miscarriage, we do know it’s a horrific event that affects millions of women. Still, it feels like we aren’t free to openly discuss it.
Sure, it’s a really painful topic to bring up to just any random person, so I definitely don’t bring it up to just any Joe-Shmo. At the same time, I shouldn’t have to hide what I’ve been through because it might make someone feel uncomfortable. We have a long way to go in normalizing normal things.
Life is uncomfortable. It’s not all cupcakes and champagne. Get over it.
Shame And Miscarriage
For most, including myself, shame and miscarriage go hand-in-hand. There are likely some women who don’t experience shame, but I’d venture those women are not the norm. From the stories I’ve heard, it’s far more common for women to carry an immense level of shame after they’ve lost a baby.
It’s a hard thing to comprehend if you’ve not been through it. I don’t know exactly where the shame comes from.
When I think about friends who’ve lost babies, I only feel compassion and grace towards them. But, to this day, when I think about my own losses, I still have this weird feeling of shame.
That doesn’t make sense, right? Why would I have only compassion for other women while allowing my own heart to be bombarded with shame for the same circumstances? I’ve obviously still got some healing to do.
I suppose I feel so much shame because my body didn’t do what it was supposed to do. My body is meant to have babies. You might disagree with me, but I’ve always believed one of my fundamental purposes as a woman was to carry and birth life.
So to fail at the very thing I’m made for? Devastating.
There are many reasons one might feel shame after a miscarriage. If you’re open to sharing more about your experience and any shame you’ve felt, I’d love to hear about it in the comments. The more we share, the more we normalize this hard stuff.
All The Feels
Intense Loneliness
One very normal feeling to have after a miscarriage is loneliness. I experienced intense feelings of loneliness after each of my losses.
For my first pregnancy, we lost the baby at 17 weeks. I waited until after 12 weeks to announce the pregnancy, and everyone was so excited about that announcement. I was, too. Then everything came crashing down.
Of course everyone was so supportive and expressed their own feelings of sadness and grief when we lost our boy, but those voices soon faded, and I was left with the most intense feelings of loneliness.
When I was supposed to be holding my sweet boy, I sat instead on the floor in his unfinished nursery and cried. Alone. I missed my boy every day. Alone.
The second loss wasn’t as traumatic for me since it was early on in the pregnancy, but I felt an insane level of loneliness after that loss, too.
Maybe I felt so lonely because it seemed as though no one had any solutions for me. The doctors couldn’t find any medical reasons for the losses. They gave me nothing. Their scientific reasoning was: “It’s just bad luck.”
Thanks for nothing. I felt like I was the one who had to figure out why this was happening to me. It was so hard.
Dreading Future Pregnancies
It’s probably easy to imagine why dread of future pregnancies would be a very normal feeling to have after a miscarriage.
After both of my losses, I was consumed with becoming pregnant again. At the same time, I super dreaded pregnancy. Since loss was all I knew, pregnancy equalled death.
After our first loss, I was paralyzed with fear the following two times I got pregnant. And please don’t tell me I lost the second baby because I was too stressed out. Do you know someone actually said that to me? I’m not even joking. I was discussing the loss with someone and they legit said, “Wow, it’s amazing what stress can do to the body.” Like it was my fault.
That’s an example of a tone deaf, stupid human. Don’t be that human.
Well, I was just as stressed out with my third pregnancy, and I carried him to term. So there.
Let me just climb out of this rabbit hole I’m in.
I dreaded pregnancy. You might, too. That’s normal.
Jealousy Towards New Mamas And Pregnant Women
It’s embarrassing for me to admit this, but I will because I know so many other women probably feel the same way. After I lost each of my babies, I was insanely jealous of other new mamas and pregnant women. Just being real with you.
And, to be totally honest, I still feel a sting every time I see a pregnancy announcement on socials or anywhere else. I imagine that expectant mother only to be experiencing feelings of joy, excitement, and anticipation, while for me, pregnancy felt like a death sentence.
Granted, I know not every woman feels blissful joy and ecstasy when they become pregnant, but in my mind, I imagine they do. If you imagine that, too, you’re in good company. While it might be 100% accurate, it really is a normal feeling.
It’s also weird to admit that whenever I see a pregnant woman or a new mama, I often wonder if she ever experienced intense fears that she would lose her baby. I think about the fact that she might have gone to all of her scans and appointments, only feeling excitement about seeing her healthy and growing baby in the ultrasound.
Again, I feel embarrassed admitting that, but it’s the truth.
All-Consuming Desire To Have A Baby
It’s so strange to think about my life before the two losses. Before we got pregnant the first time around, I wasn’t even sure if I really wanted to be a mom. I mean, ultimately I knew I did, but I don’t think I felt 100% ready.
Still, my husband and I agreed it was time to start trying.
We got pregnant quickly, and I was immediately consumed with the idea of being a mom. It was a pretty drastic flip from not being sure if I wanted to have a baby to being so excited about the thought of motherhood. Those baby hormones did their job very well.
Then we lost the baby.
After that, becoming pregnant and having a baby literally consumed my thoughts. Not one hour passed where I would not think about it. It was my #1 goal and focus.
It was exhausting, both mentally and emotionally, to be fully consumed with the desire to have a baby. It’s not like I could make it happen. Yet somehow, it felt like every month that passed without a bun in the oven was a failure on my part.
That’s a lot of pressure to put on anyone, and I’m sure it wasn’t helping me get pregnant faster. They say stress makes it more difficult to get pregnant. Well, then someone tell me how to not stress about becoming pregnant when it was the only thing I wanted in the world!
Emptiness In Your Heart
It’s a very normal feeling to experience emptiness in your heart after a miscarriage. I’ve spoken to many other women who had miscarriages, and we all expressed a similar feeling of emptiness.
Some might say it’s because your baby held a place in your heart, and just because the baby is no longer coming doesn’t mean that place in your heart disappears. It’s like it’s reserved for them for the rest of your life.
I’m a few years out from the first loss, and I still feel the whispers of emptiness whenever I think about my angel babies. I imagine how old they would be now and what kind of milestones we’d be celebrating together. Those babies will always live in my heart.
The only thing that gives me comfort is the fact that I am 100% certain that my babies are waiting for me in heaven, and we will spend eternity together. Without that, it all just feels hopeless.
Nothing will replace a baby you’ve lost. My rainbow baby is the biggest blessing of my life, but there is no way I can expect him to take the place of the two babies I lost. That’s too much of a burden for him to carry, and it’s not his responsibility to fill that void.
I can’t tell you how to make that feeling go away. Maybe we don’t want it to. The emptiness is there for a reason, and no matter how much time passes, we’ll never forget the reason.
No matter how you look at it, it’s just really hard.
When Will I Feel Normal Again?
One thought I often had after my losses was, “When will I feel normal again?” I just felt so much hopelessness and grief.
To be honest with you, when I had my baby boy, that did bring a ton of healing to my heart. It also brought new levels of grief that totally caught me off guard, but overall, I felt relief and joy.
At the same time, the two losses so deeply impacted me, that I don’t know if I’ll ever be the pre-loss version of myself again. Life is like that. We experience things, and we are forever changed.
Baby loss was not something I moved forward from. Rather, something I moved forward with.
I’m years out, and I still have moments where I suddenly think of my two angel babies, and I sink into some pretty deep feelings of grief. It doesn’t last forever, but it does happen.
Those feelings are so normal, and I don’t mind it because I never want to forget my babies or become so far removed from the pain of the losses that I never feel sadness that they aren’t here with me.
My babies will be in my heart for as long as I’m on earth, and I greatly anticipate the day we are together in heaven.
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