When going through pregnancy loss, when you’re deep in the thick of it, you are suddenly and very painfully aware of how little people talk about miscarriages. You feel this incredible and profound loss, one that no one seems to understand (because no one talks about it), and never have you felt so alone. Yet you find a way to survive. You adapt to your new, unfamiliar surroundings, where everything around you seems dark and impossible. Even if you have support in the form of your partner or this community, it’s still solely on you to come out the other side. You are the one responsible for finding the strength to continue. To somehow find a glimmer of hope in the depths of your hell. Others can love you and be there for you, but you are the one that has to reach inside of you and figure out a way to keep breathing.
Then afterwards, whether or not your life becomes what you once had hoped it would be, you are beat the hell up. The bruises are extensive and internal. You may have moved on, but your soul is still broken in a way that may never completely mend. Life becomes easier to face, for sure, smiles may have even returned….but inside, you’re different. Not only do you show signs of a battle having been fought, your marriage or partnership has scars as well. As it turns out, people don’t talk about any this, either.
In my case, I’m one of the lucky ones. I got the baby I worked so hard to have. She is….well, a miracle. She’s everything every mother present in their child’s life has to say about their kid. She’s all of that and more. She was absolutely worth the fight.
But the thing is, you go through this war and then are thrust right into the depths of motherhood. You go from one hell right into, well, another. Sure the second hell has snuggles and smiles and a sense of a chapter finally being closed…but fuck, it is exhausting. You are suddenly responsible for this little creature who depends entirely on you to continue living, all while you’re still recovering from your prior battle. You’re still processing everything you just went through, except you don’t have a moment to yourself to properly think anything through.
So here I am, almost three years later, still figuring out this new me. I came out the other side of this a completely different woman. Not only did my losses profoundly change me, trying to recover from those losses while becoming a mother also changed me. I’m still trying to recover….Even though I have my baby, the feelings of loss still resurface regularly. The four that are no longer with me, never actually left me.
I would like to say, however, that even though my insides are still a mess, I have a confidence in myself and what I can do, that was never there before all of this. I’m proud of the woman I have become. The battle gave me that. Surviving the war gave me that. Motherhood gave me that.
I may be processing this for years to come, maybe even the rest of my life. But I will do what I did while in the thick of it: rely on that ever-present hope. Because none of this is easy. Loss, motherhood…life. All we can do is keep trying to breathe, and work hard to find the light in the midst of it all.