Five years ago, I had a miscarriage. I knew that I was at risk for a miscarriage even before I was pregnant, so I thought I was prepared. I didn’t tell anyone I was pregnant, because I couldn’t bear the thought of having to update everyone on my status if I had a miscarriage. (And after all, people just don’t talk about miscarriage!) The most difficult moment was the day after I found out, having to talk to the nurse and the doctor about scheduling the D&C. I barely got through the call, and as I hung up the phone, I just started sobbing. My husband was at work, and I was all alone with my almost 2yo. At that very dismal moment, my friend happened to call—no doubt inspired, as she had experienced miscarriage twice. It was so reassuring and calming to talk to someone who knew. Yet I still thought I had done the right thing by keeping it all to myself.
Three years later, I had moved and made a new friend. When she became pregnant, she was very open about it, in spite of a very troublesome first pregnancy. And when she found out she had a miscarriage, she was equally open about it. I remembered what a blessing it was to have someone call whom I could confide in. I hesitated to call her, because we didn’t know each other well. But I did anyway, and she was so thankful for the call.
The following year, my friend and I were sitting at the park with some other moms while our little ones were playing. My friend was pregnant again, and she brought up her previous miscarriage. One by one, each of the five of us women confessed (some with great hesitation) to having had a miscarriage. My friend was the only one that had been open about it, and she received tons of support. Meanwhile, the rest of us suffered in silence. I began to wonder whether keeping it all to myself had been the wisest course of action.
I began thinking about this again recently, as a family member posted the details of her pregnancy and miscarriage on Facebook. Her situation was a little different than everyone else that I know in that she did not previously have children and thought she never would. When she finally miscarried, she posted about how hopeless she felt. And some very well-meaning FB friends responded that there was hope that God would bless her with a child. I thought these responses were very misguided though, because Hope does not always lie in getting the desires of our heart, no matter how righteous those desires might be (and in this instance it is medically unlikely). So again I wondered whether it would be worthwhile to share this tribulation with the world.
I am wondering what your experiences have been with miscarriage. Have you kept it a private matter? Or have you shared your world with others? Do you wish you had handled it differently?
Spread the word!