I’ve written about our miscarriages before. It was the first time I had ever really spoken about them since they happened. Not because I didn’t want to but because I didn’t think I should, not only that but I wasn’t ready. I’ve read many stories of Baby Loss now and with each story I became stronger, felt I was ready to share our story. I felt I should share our story, the more that we share our stories the more others will and it will break the taboo.
Today is the last day of Baby Loss Awareness Week. A week where many people talk about their babies that weren’t born, or were born sleeping. A week where the world unites to raise awareness. Awareness means more families will know where they can find support and information in their time of need. A time when they are at their lowest, their darkest hours.
To know that there isn’t a timescale on grief and it is OK to not be OK.
When we miscarried we weren’t offered any advice on where to go for support. Given any guidance on what to expect. We were sent away, told we needed to wait a week to see if my body would ‘do what it needed to’ and avoid any intervention. It did, and after 3 days I went back to the hospital to have an internal scan and was told that the ‘sac’ had gone and the miscarriage was over. Not called our baby, it was all very, medical.
Over? Is it ever really over?
I was told whilst the bleeding continued I couldn’t have a bath, couldn’t use tampons. All very clinical information but nothing about where to go if we were feeling low. If we needed emotional support. Luckily we had each other. We have always been able to turn to each other and we got each other through it, that I am 100% sure of. We were also lucky that we had family and friends that supported us. Would let us talk about what we had been through.
Should I stop talking about it now? Should I feel ‘better’?
Just some of the questions I kept thinking. I mean when should you stop talking about your miscarriage? Do people get ‘fed up’ hearing about it. If I burst into tears is that OK or do people expect me to stop?
Miscarriage is a funny thing. You have your baby in your tummy, and love them yet others cannot see them, feel them and so cannot understand why you grieve so much or for so long. They don’t know understand why your crying when it should have been your scan date, or due date. They don’t know all the details you know, you planned. If you lose a relative then people can understand that, as it is likely to be a situation they have been in before.
I’m going to say it is OK to grieve as long as you want. As long as you need.
It is OK to talk about it as much as you want.
There are no timescales. No rights or wrongs.
You have to do what is right for you and your family.
Talk about your thoughts, say what you feel. Find your support network, whether it be family, friends, a stranger on the internet. Keep talking and don’t bottle it up.
It’s OK to not be OK!
It’s been 6 years for us and the feelings are still raw. We still remember what we felt. It isn’t something you forget it is just something you learn to live with. Sometimes I feel strong enough to talk about it other times not so much and that is OK.