Women who suffer, sometimes do so in silence
It is absolutely no joke to say that women are incredible, with their ability to multitask, create, give birth and care for children. And, as they experience loss, they sometimes suffer in silence. And, while thinking about International Women’s Day, I wanted to talk about something that people don’t want to talk about, but should … miscarriages.
It is reported that 15 to 20 per cent of women suffer a miscarriage (according to the Society of Obstetricians and Gynaecologists of Canada); that is, they find out they are pregnant (for better or worse) and at some point they miscarry (usually within the first eight weeks). Often the reason is not known, which can be the most frustrating part. As many as one in five women have had this awful experience and have had the strength to carry on.
I remember when my husband and I were trying to conceive. We felt I was old and thought, So let’s just see if we can have kids. If we can’t, then we won’t. Extremely stupid thought process because it gave us no real time to think of the massive life change that a baby would bring and we instantly got pregnant within three months. With that “little blue line,” my heart sank with dread but swelled with excitement and love. My husband was also shocked but happy. We were going to have a baby! Whaaat?!
We didn’t want to tell the world until we could get scans and blood work done, but we did tell some people. Ryan told his parents and I told my best friends. It made it so real to actually tell people. We already started planning our parental leave and the baby’s bedroom.
Then one day I woke up and there was blood.
My heart sank like a lead balloon. We went to the ER to confirm. I had miscarried.
It was a strange feeling. I was crying but I couldn’t even feel the pain; I couldn’t comprehend the loss. It felt so surreal how this little thing inside me just didn’t want to be. And so, I was no longer pregnant. I felt it was my fault, that something was wrong with me—with my body. I felt shame and felt like a failure.
We went home and all of the planning and things we had already bought felt like shame and stupidity. We didn’t even think this could happen. I sat on the couch for a week, crying in a black hole of sadness … of emptiness.
After my experience, I thought, I never want to go through that again, but after two months I realized I actually wanted to have that little baby that “never was,” so we started trying again and, Bingo! (We got one and he “stuck”!)
What was incredible to me was that almost every woman that I spoke to who was trying to have a baby or who had children, had all had a misccarriage—yet, they had never talked to anyone about it. One of the most upsetting things that can happen, and yet women just suffer that loss in silence. Telling me their miscarriage stories, I could see had helped to relieve some of the pent-up emotional baggage.
To all of the women out there, vent your stories when you are ready … and remember that you are strong and incredible, and you are not alone.
