Healing after miscarriage: 6 ways to soften the grief

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My first miscarriage knocked the wind out of me. I was completely devastated.

I also felt shocked and confused – which is silly, really, as I knew the statistics. It happens to one in four women in Australia. But after three healthy, complication-free pregnancies, I didn't think it would happen to me.  And when it did, at just six weeks gestation, I felt like my body had let me down. I had joined a club I had no interest in joining. And what was worse, it was a lifetime membership.

Sadly, this loss would not be my only one. My second miscarriage happened just a couple of months later. It was a different experience, as my fighting embryo made it to 11 weeks, but the pregnancy was fraught from the beginning. I was told the pregnancy was "guarded," a word that haunted me like an unwelcome shadow. Hope and fear jostled for domination in my head in a torturous battle. At nine weeks the pregnancy was considered unlikely, "unviable" in medical terms. I was losing another life I loved. I had to endure a cruel and agonising fortnight wait for the heartbeat to stop. 

I spent hours researching miscarriage causes, seeking answers and support from online medical sites. I turned to Facebook groups and forums for comfort and hope. I learnt a second language, becoming fluent in fertility and miscarriage dialogue. I entered a world of angel babies, luteal phases and baby dust. Previously foreign terms like TTC, CM, BFN, and DPO became part of my new vernacular. The physical recovery was hard, but the emotional recovery was harder. I felt my open wound would never heal.

But in the year that has followed since my first loss, I have learnt that miscarriage is a deeply personal grief. The loss of a pregnancy is a bereavement like any other, and healing takes time. It also happens from within.

If you have suffered a pregnancy loss, here are six ways to help soften the grief.

1. Know you are not to blame

The first step towards healing after miscarriage is to recognise and accept that you are not to blame. When I experienced my first loss I looked to myself for blame, with an unhelpful stream of self-interrogation. Was I responsible? Was it my age? Why hadn't I taken folate? Was it linked to my stress levels?

My GP assured me it was nothing I had done or not done. The cause of miscarriage is often chromosomal abnormalities in the embryo or other problems outside of the mother's control. It isn't caused by stress or coffee or some random misdeed on the part of the mother. You cannot and must not feel guilt for something you are not responsible for.

2. Any emotion is okay

Give yourself permission to experience and express the full gamut of emotions: anger, confusion, grief, loss, frustration, sadness. The emotional impact can usually take longer to heal than the physical impact. Even if the pregnancy ended very early, the sense of bonding between a mother and her baby can be strong.

My first loss was classified as an early miscarriage, but whether you lose a baby at six weeks or 12 weeks, the outcome is the same and the grief is profound.

3. Talk about it

Physical and emotional stress aside, one of hardest parts about experiencing miscarriage is the isolation. Pregnancy loss can be a solitary and lonely grief, and sadly, the subject is still taboo. But you don't need to suffer in silence. Talk about it with people who understand. Seek comfort from others who have gone through it. With so many pregnancies ending in miscarriage there's a strong chance you know someone in your circle that has gone through it.

If there's no one you feel comfortable talking to, seek support from a professional service or your health practitioner. There are also many Facebook pages dedicated to pregnancy loss –people visit these pages to grieve, to vent, to express sorry, to give voice to their grief, and to give hope. Remember that you are not alone.

4. Accept grief for what it is

Grief is a natural part of how we process painful events. Just as there is no timeframe on grief, there is no single prescription for it. You can't hide from grief, and you can't outrun it. Just as love demands to be felt, so too does loss. So be gentle on yourself, and as long as you are getting the support and help you need during your healing process you should allow yourself as much or as little time as you need to heal. Grief does not follow a predictable script and at times it can be disorientating.

Ultimately we all experience grief a bit differently, so remember this: there is no 'right' or 'wrong' way to grieve.

5. Find an appropriate distraction

While I'm a firm believer in embracing all emotions – the good, the bad, the hopeful and the hopeless – sometimes you do need space from grief. When grieving, sometimes the only thing you can do is the next thing. Clean the house, pay the bills, and eat lunch.

If you have children, they can be the ultimate distraction. I found being around my children incredibly healing. Naturally, it also highlighted what I had lost, but ultimately the feeling of being grateful for what I did have paved the way for healing to follow.

I also lost myself in books and spent a lot of time outdoors in nature, as nature is the most powerful healer.

6. Commemorate your loss – or don't

Remember that everyone processes grief differently, and every experience is unique. You may wish to name your child. You may not. You may wish to create a memorial. You may not. You may wish to mark the occasion of your baby's due date, or to write a card to your unborn baby. Maybe not. It has to be right for you.

I planted a tree to always remember my angel babies. At Christmas time I bought each of them an ornament to hang on the tree, and wrote the month they were due to be born on them. This felt right to me. I also keep the ultrasound pictures and cards I received in a box, along with a few other mementos of the pregnancies, however short lived. I won't forget.

Finally, remember this: you can be brave and cry. You can feel destroyed and yet pick yourself up slowly and carry on. While I'm not sure you ever fully heal from the loss, time does mend the wounds.

It leaves behind a scar, but it stops hurting quite so much.

Michaela Fox is a freelance writer, blogger and mother of three. She muses on the ups and downs of motherhood on her blog Not Another Slippery Dip, and believes in 'good-enough, guilt-free' parenting. You can also follow her on Facebook, Twitter or Instagram.

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