This topic is one I’ve mulled over countless times—in my thoughts, in writing, during late-night prayers, and in heartfelt discussions with my partner, Daniel. However, I’ve never openly addressed it in such a direct way. I feel fortunate to be living in a time when conversations around pregnancy loss are becoming more normalized. While there is still much that remains unknown, the fact that people are talking about it is a step in the right direction. More women are stepping forward to share their experiences, saying, “Yes, we’ve lost babies,” or “We’re struggling to conceive.” I often emphasize that sharing these experiences can be healing, and writing about them has become part of my journey.
As I reflect on our three pregnancy losses, one thing stands out: you grieve numerous aspects of life during this time. Many, including myself, may not realize that the heartache extends beyond the loss of life itself, though that is undoubtedly the most painful part. The grief associated with this experience is profound and enduring.
I found immense support from those around us, but I was unprepared for some of the unexpected emotions that arose as time passed. To shed light on this, here are three elements of grief I didn’t anticipate while navigating recurrent pregnancy loss.
1. Mourning the Erosion of Trust
First, I mourned the erosion of trust in my own body. It’s a harsh realization to come to terms with the fact that you never expect to be the one facing such challenges. In youth, we often carry a sense of invincibility, believing that we can achieve anything we desire. I always thought that my husband and I would choose the perfect moment to start our family. When that dream began to crumble, I felt a profound sense of disorientation.
My body was designed to nurture life; so why couldn’t it maintain a pregnancy? Each failed attempt felt like a personal failure, despite countless medical tests revealing no answers. I was left feeling broken and powerless. Accepting my limitations became a significant hurdle, forcing me to relinquish control over a situation I desperately wanted to manage.
2. The Weight of Guilt
Another unexpected layer of grief was the sadness and guilt associated with what I perceived as disappointing my partner. These were his children too, and losing them weighed heavily on my heart. I carried the burden of not being able to protect them, which only intensified my feelings of shame, despite knowing I wasn’t at fault for these losses.
Interestingly, most of the compassion directed toward families experiencing miscarriage tends to focus on the mother. While this is understandable—given the physical toll on the woman—it often overlooks the emotional struggle of the father. Daniel faced his own grief while simultaneously supporting me through my pain. He held me during the darkest moments, prayed for us, listened, and encouraged me not to lose hope. It was a heart-wrenching experience, but it also deepened our bond in ways we never anticipated.
3. The Shame of Jealousy
Perhaps the most difficult emotion I dealt with was the shame of feeling unable to celebrate the joys of others around me. It felt uncomfortable to admit, but jealousy crept in when I witnessed friends enjoying healthy pregnancies. I was acutely aware of how selfish this reaction seemed. Suffering can transform us into versions of ourselves we didn’t know existed.
To cope, I took breaks from social media, avoiding those seemingly endless announcements of pregnancy milestones. At one point, I even blocked many of my friends who were newlyweds or pregnant to shield myself from the sting of envy. I found myself feeling upset when friends had children close in age, and I was devastated when a newly married couple announced their pregnancy shortly after their wedding.
I often rationalized these feelings with thoughts of, “It should be my turn!” or “Why not me?” I had to remind myself continually that conceiving and birthing a child is not a competition. I wasn’t losing anything because of someone else’s happiness. It wasn’t that I wished ill on others; I just felt shattered and longed for connection in my grief.
I share these reflections to highlight that grief can take many unexpected forms as one processes loss. Acknowledge these feelings, work through them, and, at times, allow them to simply exist. While you may never fully “get over” your loss, the brokenness can evolve over time. My experiences may be unique, but there is value in sharing openly. Allow yourself grace when unexpected emotions arise, and extend understanding to others when their pain seems unfathomable.
For those exploring the journey of parenthood, consider checking out the Baby Maker at Home Insemination Kit, which provides resources and support. Additionally, Intracervical Insemination offers insights into related topics, and the World Health Organization provides excellent resources for pregnancy and home insemination.
In summary, navigating pregnancy loss is a multifaceted journey filled with unexpected grief. It’s essential to recognize the complexities of your emotions and give yourself permission to feel and heal.