It was a miscarriage.
You know, that thing no one seems to want to acknowledge in pregnancy? Because pregnancy is such a blessing. Barfing your guts out (and then some), blowing up bigger than the Goodyear Blimp, and crying at a plastic bag blowing in the wind is the 'greatest thing' a woman will ever do in her life. But no one tells you about the one thing that will change everything,
Miscarriage.
Hearing the word sends most people taking cover from the King Kong that is miscarriage. While they're running away from the monster, you've now found yourself being held hostage, at the top of the Empire State Building, with planes flying and shooting all around you. From off in the distance, you see all those people running toward you with their own agendas on how and when to move on. Time and time again you hear, "If it wasn't meant to be, then it wasn't meant to be."
If you're anything like me, you'll want to punch those people in the throat.
Here are five things NOT to do if someone you know and love has had a miscarriage:
- Stop messaging them, calling them, sending them sympathy cards. Stop it immediately. Letting them know you're thinking of them, and there if they need you, is still pushing the limit. Every time you reach out to them, no matter what your intentions are, it reminds them of what they've lost. Your intentions might be honorable and the best intentions anyone has ever had in the history of time, but if the person who's had a miscarriage isn't ready to talk about it, stop trying to force them to.
- Normal is the best medicine. When you tip-toe around feelings every time you see the person, it reminds them. Being normal allows them to control their emotions and feel like they can move on. It's hard not to constantly show sympathy to someone you love when they're hurting, but doing so keeps them rooted in the past. Let them see that having a miscarriage doesn't mean an end to them.
- Do not under any circumstances force them into spending time with you. Yes, they know you love them and you're thinking about them. No, the are not ready to go out to lunch with you and your pregnant wife after church on Sunday. That doesn't mean they hate you, never want to speak to you again, or any other cockamamie reason you could possibly think of. It means they are not ready to talk about it. Telling someone, whether they're male or female, that "you never know, he/she might want to," is the biggest load of bull crap that it puts what happened to Biff Tannen and his car to shame. Obviously, a person's significant other would know what they'd want better than you. Stop forcing yourself on them.
- Understand that what you feel isn't the main focus. This just in: you are not the center of the solar system, galaxy, or universe. Your feelings might get hurt because of something they say to you. You might be the person that they run to, cry to, and openly talk about their loss with. Regardless of who you are to them, understand that they are not, nor should they be, worried about your feelings. You didn't lose a child. They did. Hop off your high horse of wisdom, humble yourself, and stop getting butt hurt over every little thing.
- Time heals. Where normal is the best medicine, time is what actually heals. Every person who's suffered from a miscarriage is different. Maybe you know more than one person who's had the misfortune, and they were back to normal in a month. The same cannot be said for everyone. Allow them to heal at their own pace, and don't push them to heal faster. You'll knock them all the way back to day one in their recovery process.
It's okay if you're not ready to move on, but it's not okay to blame yourself for not doing it.
You are not just part of a statistic.
Losing a baby, regardless of how far along you were, is difficult beyond words.
Take your time healing, there's no rush to get over your loss.
There are no magic wands that can be waved to take away the sadness, grief, pain, and loss you're feeling. I'm not a fairy godmother that can turn your miscarriage into the magical pumpkin carriage that you take to the ball.
You must be appalled at the way I approached this delicate topic. Honestly? I am too. It's been 25 days since I found out that my baby's heart stopped beating.
But do you want to know something? You are the strongest of the strong. Don't let anyone belittle your loss or invalidate your feelings. Take all the time you need. And if you need anything, have questions about my personal journey through hell, or have a request for a post, feel free to email me anytime.
Live long and prosper.
Your glass slippers will be polished and ready after the ball 143
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