Let’s Talk About Miscarriage

Let’s talk about miscarriage

I asked myself multiple times, if I really did have to write about this? Writing here would mean letting out the most vulnerable part of me outside for the world to judge, sympathize, agree, or chastise me. Then again, we are so used showing the best of ourselves on social media that the truest part of us remains unseen and unheard. So, I am not writing here to get attention or sympathies but the reason why I am sharing my story is because it’s not just my story. It’s not the most unique or exclusive story but it’s a common story we don’t talk about that often.

The story:

Four years ago, I discovered that I was pregnant with my first child. I was happy just like any other woman who is excited to be welcoming a new baby into her life. The happiness of seeing two pink lines is wonderful and joyous, especially when that is what you want it to be. Well, as it happened, the happiness didn’t last long. I was at work when I noticed some spotting. Now, pregnant women know how scary spotting is at any time of pregnancy. I was terrified at the sight of blood. My husband and I rushed into emergency and soon discovered that the baby had not survived. I was only 8 or 9 weeks into the pregnancy. Not far along and yet far along to be emotionally wrecked by the experience. It was a shocking experience. For someone like me, who had never heard of the word ‘miscarriage’, I thought my world was coming to an end.

So, I spent a lot of time blaming myself, analyzing my activities during the pregnancy that must have led to the miscarriage. It was what I still think ‘the dark hour’ of my life. That was the closest I have ever come to losing anything precious. Like we all know, the best thing to do is to move on. Ha! Easier said than done. Instead of moving on, I spent a major chunk of my time crying, brooding and weeping profusely at the sight of pregnant women and people with babies. I will admit the sight of babies revolted me to an extent that I avoided people with children.

But there is only so much you can do to escape from the world. It’s out there all around reminding me of the baby I was never going to have. At one point, I was able to overcome my loss only by talking about it with friends. I was surprised to learn that miscarriage is very common. We don’t just talk about it which is why it feels like the strangest thing. And then life surprised me with another pregnancy. This time of course, it went well, and I have beautiful 3-year-old who surprises me every single day.

Sometimes, I do think about the baby that never made it, but it’s been easier to move on. I don’t blame myself and I certainly don’t try to trace back to what could have led to this moment. Because, as much as I would like to know what went wrong, there is simply no use of about fantasizing about something that doesn’t exist. The only reason I can move on is because of the thousands of women who have already been through it and have braved it out to face the sun.

My friends have been an invaluable support because there is something satisfying about knowing that ‘I am not alone’.

This post is not for sympathizing about the things we lost but it’s to spread strength to all those women who have lost and still braved it out.