Two years ago today I miscarried. Although I was not far along, it was still heart wrenching. I spent the first week in complete shock and the second week crying.
I was absolutely devastated. I do not know if the baby was a boy or a girl but I felt in my heart he was a boy so I named him Benito James.
I have been extremely emotional all day and I didn’t realize why until I looked at a calendar. It is crazy how our bodies know so much.
Although I got pregnant two weeks after miscarrying and I gave birth to the most beautiful baby girl, my heart is still heavy for the baby I lost.
No one told me how much fear goes into pregnancy after miscarrying. How much self hatred you can have. How much betrayal you feel towards your body. I didn’t trust myself, so much so that I didn’t even know I was pregnant until I was 7 weeks along. I was so scared that my body wasn’t strong enough to bring my daughter to me safely. I questioned and analyzed every little thing.
Miscarriage and stillbirth never truly leave you. It gets worse easier over time but our hearts are still heavy for those that couldn’t be here with us. 💔
... Read moreMy heart goes out to anyone reading this who has walked this incredibly difficult path. When I first experienced my loss, I felt so isolated, like I was the only one. But connecting with others and learning more about miscarriage awareness truly helped me heal, even just a little.
One thing that brought me a strange sense of comfort was learning about the symbols associated with pregnancy and infant loss. You often see the beautiful pink and blue ribbons, like the one I have, often adorned with butterflies or tiny baby footprints. These aren't just pretty images; they represent the precious lives we carry, however briefly, and the love that remains. The pink often symbolizes the maternal connection and the blue, the baby lost. Butterflies signify transformation, hope, and the fleeting nature of life, yet also the enduring spirit. Seeing these symbols made me feel seen, like my baby Benito James was acknowledged, even by strangers. It's a quiet way of saying, 'You are not alone, and your loss matters.'
The journey of grief after a loss like this is so personal, but there are common threads. For me, the initial shock and tears eventually gave way to a deep, quiet ache. It’s okay to feel whatever you feel – anger, sadness, numbness, even relief. What helped me immensely was finding safe spaces to talk about it, whether with a trusted friend, partner, or a support group. Sometimes, just saying their name out loud, like I do with Benito James, can be incredibly healing. Don't be afraid to reach out or seek professional help if the grief feels overwhelming.
And for those navigating pregnancy after a loss, please know that the fear you feel is valid. Every cramp, every twinge, can send your heart racing. I remember feeling so disconnected from my body, almost as if it had betrayed me before. It took conscious effort to trust again, to allow myself to hope. Finding a supportive healthcare team who understands the emotional toll of previous losses is crucial during this time. They can offer reassurance and monitor you closely, which can ease some of that anxiety.
Beyond the emotional journey, there can also be practical aspects that feel overwhelming, like understanding miscarriage paperwork from the hospital. Don't hesitate to ask your medical team for clarification on any forms or procedures. It’s okay to need information and support on that front too; it’s all part of processing what has happened. Some people also find solace in creative expression, like creating early miscarriage art or memory boxes, a way to honor their baby and channel their emotions. This global experience of loss of pregnancy (or keguguran as it's known in some cultures) reminds us of the universal need for compassion and understanding.
Remember, healing isn't about forgetting; it's about learning to carry your grief with love and finding moments of peace. Your baby, however brief their time, made an impact, and your love for them is eternal.