“This might be a bit difficult,” my physician said gently. I slipped on my headphones, cranked up my white noise app, and prepared myself for yet another D&C. I had heard similar phrases far too many times in the past nine months—through two natural pregnancies, one IVF cycle, countless fertility assessments, treatments, blood tests, injections, and two D&C procedures.
I am a mother to a 12-year-old daughter from a previous relationship. I had her in my twenties, when the ideas of fertility and motherhood felt abstract. Motherhood transformed my life in incredible ways, and I always envisioned welcoming another child if the circumstances were right after I remarried. A year ago, my husband and I began trying to conceive.
In March, I found out I was pregnant, only to experience an early miscarriage. In May, I became pregnant again, but at eight weeks, I was diagnosed with a missed miscarriage, leading to a D&C in early June. By October, I was pregnant again through IVF, but on my birthday, November 20th, I faced yet another D&C due to another missed miscarriage.
Coming to terms with these losses—the potential lives that were not to be—has been a challenge. Mourning these losses is different from grieving for a living being, and I’ve felt a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. However, I’ve adopted a forward-looking mindset, largely due to the insights I’ve gained from experiencing three miscarriages in such a short time.
Miscarriage is more common than you think.
Before this year, I rarely considered miscarriage. It was an abstract concept, similar to how I viewed motherhood before becoming a parent. I knew it happened, but it never crossed my mind that it could happen to me. As I shared my experiences openly, I discovered that many women I knew had similar stories, which made me feel much less isolated.
Talking about it helps lift the stigma.
There’s often an unspoken shame that accompanies miscarriage, creating a sense of inadequacy. While it may seem irrational, this feeling exists. Sharing my journey has helped dissolve that shame, and I am thankful for that.
Distraction is vital.
In the days following a miscarriage, engage in activities that keep your mind occupied—read, binge-watch shows, shop, eat, exercise, or meditate. It can be incredibly therapeutic. Don’t hesitate to prioritize your needs during this time.
Grief and gratitude can coexist.
Grieving does not negate gratitude for the wonderful aspects of your life. It’s essential to acknowledge your feelings of loss. A close friend once told me, “Don’t skip the grief. It’s important.” This insight was crucial, as grief can unexpectedly resurface. Addressing it allows you to appreciate the good in your life even more profoundly.
Perspective matters.
My compassionate doctor reminded me that while miscarriages are painful, there are more severe challenges one could face, such as an ectopic pregnancy or the devastating loss of a child. Acknowledging that there are worse things helps to put the pain of miscarriage into perspective.
It’s okay to feel normal again.
Some well-meaning individuals may express concern if you seem to be moving on too quickly. But by allowing myself to feel the grief, I can also embrace gratitude and look to the future. And yes, it was indeed “a little uncomfortable,” much like many experiences in life. If you find yourself navigating similar challenges regarding fertility, know that you can and will look forward again.
For those interested in enhancing their fertility, check out our post on fertility boosters for men at Make a Mom. Additionally, NICHD offers excellent resources on pregnancy, and for further insights into online security concerning fertility, visit Intracervical Insemination.
In summary, my journey through three miscarriages has been filled with lessons about commonality, the importance of communication, the necessity of distraction, and the coexistence of grief and gratitude. With time, it is possible to regain a sense of normalcy.