Going Through Infant Loss - How to Cope
Hello everyone,
I hope this post finds you healthy, happy and blessed.
Eight years ago, I was miscarrying the only child I was privileged to carry in my womb. In reality, I did not even know that I was pregnant. So, when it happened, my heart sank and I was unable to comprehend what was taking place until it was too late. In memory of our daughter, this post is her story and mine.
My pregnancy ended in its early stages. Without wanting to go into much detail, the miscarriage went on for a few weeks until she finally passed. That moment will forever be engraved in my memory. Unfortunately, unsure of what it was, my husband and I discarded the clot in the trash – something that haunts me to this day.
As I had just moved to the US, I had not yet found a doctor. It was during this time that I started looking for a gynecologist. In order to prepare the appointment, I took notes on everything that was taking place – I was afraid to miss something important. I still have those notes, but have never been able to read them again.
After the miscarriage took place, I went on as if nothing happened. It wasn’t until my doctor’s appointment that she confirmed I had indeed gone through an early miscarriage. She then looked at me and said: “Hey, at least you know that you can get pregnant!” I was too stunned to say anything. I simply smiled and stared at my notes.
I remember going to my car, getting inside and calling my husband. When at work, he barely answers – which is understandable – but this time, he did. I recall telling him about the miscarriage and I was crying. I hung up, went back home and my life continued…or so I thought it had.
The following months were filled with sadness and darkness. All I wanted was to talk about what had taken place and yet, my husband was not open to it. I fell into such deep despair and searched for whatever I could to help me cope with such a loss. And unlike other women who are able to successfully conceive after a miscarriage – it was not the case for us. Each period after our loss was like a knife in my heart. It was a constant reminder that my body had failed; that I had failed.
An overwhelming sense of guilt from not being able to protect our baby was getting stronger and stronger. It was the beginning of a depression that exploded into catastrophic proportions two years later.
My behavior after the miscarriage was erratic. I spoke of it to no one and if I did, it was done in such a quick manner – as if I was talking about the weather. I found myself becoming more angry, bitter and had explosive fits of rag. I was devastated and broken in so many ways. The scars it left on our marriage and us are still palpable. But, within the last eight years, we have learned to cope and grieve, in our own way. Here are five things I did to help me cope with the loss of our daughter.
The first thing was giving our baby a name. In naming her, I believe she was a girl, it allowed me to pray for her by name. It brought me comfort. It became more real and something that I could hold on to, in some way.
The second thing was acknowledging I was a mom. My child had passed away too early, but it did not change the fact that I was a mom. This meant that when it was Mother’s Day, I could stand up at Mass and accept my blessing. It was a sad blessing, but for me, it meant that in the eyes of God, I was a mom, even if my child was not of this world anymore. I emphasize this a lot with women who have losses. They often feel like they are not mothers because they have nothing to show for. I remind them that although their child is with God, they are still their mothers.
The third thing was sharing my story whenever the occasion presented itself. If someone asked me if I had any children, I would say that I had one, but that she had passed away. Even now, with our three children, I tell people we have four children, but our oldest died. The reactions are often a mix of sadness or a moment for them to share their loss with me.
The fourth thing was giving myself kindness and mercy on the month I lost our baby and the month she would have been born. It did not hit me until a couple of years after our loss that March and November are especially more difficult for me. During those months, I make sure that I understand why I am sad and I give myself some extra pampering. It does not need to be a big thing – just a twenty-minute bubble bath or lathering a nice body lotion after a quick shower. It does not take away the pain, but it does give me a bit of peace.
The fifth and final thing was allowing myself the time I needed to grieve. It’s a huge misconception that an early miscarriage means you will get over it quickly. And for some, that may be the case. But let’s first address that one does not “get over it”. One cries, gets angry, feels broken and it takes time to forget – in fact, we never forget. For me, it was the only time I was ever pregnant – and did not even know I was – and I was never able to conceive again. And so, it took me a while to mourn. I had to mourn the baby, never getting pregnant again and accepting that after my surgery, the damage was too extensive and there was not much hope.
Everyone goes through his or her own journey of grief. Some are privileged to have a big support group. Others, like me, had to go through it alone. It’s not that my husband was a horrible person. He was grieving too – in own way. I wish we had been able to go through it together, but we didn’t. We can’t change that – we just learned from it. Yet, because of what happened to me, I have made it my mission to not let a friend go through it alone. I want them to know they are not alone.
If you or someone you know is going through infant loss, remember that you are not alone. There are so many wonderful organizations that can help you. Here are a few websites with resources that can help you during this difficult time:
https://www.mend.org/infant-loss-organizations
https://www.projectsweetpeas.com/other-resources.html
Until my next post, keep safe and healthy.
SM
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