My Miscarriage: Three Months Out

It’s been two months since I shared my miscarriage story on this blog, and I wanted to follow up with an update on how I’m feeling now — three months after the loss itself.

Life feels normal. Which is familiar, and often masks the fact that we experienced loss. That’s how I feel the majority of the time. Kevin and I lead an incredibly wonderful life, full of amazing people and opportunities and experiences. We’re so aware of and thankful for the fact that we’re fortunate in so many ways.

But then come moments when I remember that things aren’t supposed to feel normal right now. We should be decorating a nursery, taking birthing classes, choosing names, feeling anxious and unprepared. Instead, it’s back to our routine. Business as usual. Both immensely comforting and fiercely sad, all at the same time.

I’m especially reminded of what would have been when friends who have babies due around the same time ours was due post about milestones. Finding out the gender, experiencing growing bellies — they come as reminders that we would be doing the same things at the same times. But instead the room that would have been our nursery remains filled with a hodgepodge of things — wrapping paper, a desk, extra bedding — and the door stays closed most days. Again, most days that’s not sad. It’s really not. It’s always been that way, and so it’s a very known feeling.

I continue to meet women — both those I know and relative strangers — who have also experienced miscarriage. So many of you reached out to me when I first wrote about my miscarriage, and each of your messages meant so much. There are other chance encounters, too. Most recently, that happened to me at the dentist office when the hygienist, while filling out routine paperwork at my appointment, asked if I’d had any surgeries or hospitalizations since my last visit. There was this weird moment where I remembered that I had to say yes, I had. A D&C. And then, after a few seconds of silence, she shared that she’d also had two miscarriages herself.

By happenstance, I discovered a new-to-me podcast, Stuff Mom Never Told You, and the first episode posted after I subscribed was called “I Had A Miscarriage.” The podcast hosts interviewed a clinical psychologist, Dr. Jessica Zucker, who, after focusing on women’s reproductive and maternal mental health for years, experienced a (terrifying) miscarriage herself. She wrote about her miscarriage for The New York Times in 2014 — bravely sharing her miscarriage story and making a case for why talking about miscarriage is important — and has since launched an amazing line of pregnancy loss cards.

Listening to Jessica’s advice on and approach to dealing with miscarriage was empowering, helpful, and emotional.

Emotion has been a theme for me over the past few months. I still cry unexpectedly at times, or just get overwhelmingly sad out of the blue. All this is normal, I’ve been told. But there’s also a whole lot of joy, because I lead a wonderful life and it’s full of the most incredible people — and I’m very aware of that fact.

Interestingly, these days I feel apathetic at the thought of another pregnancy, which I think is actually fear masking itself as apathy. Worry that something will go wrong again. I don’t like this feeling, as I’m not a worrier by nature. I like to be able to embrace things head-on — to really go all in. This experience has thrown me off-kilter, and I feel unsure of myself in some ways.

So that’s the update — things are good, things are sad, things are happy, things are scary. Sometimes all at once, usually in waves.

I so appreciate all of you readers and friends who have shown me such support and love throughout this journey. Y’all are the best. Thank you, thank you, thank you!