Sharing A Second Time

When we experienced our first miscarriage in January, I knew fairly quickly I wanted to share our loss on the blog. I wrote about our miscarriage for two main reasons.

1. I shared because I needed to write. Writing has always been the way I sort through emotions that feel jumbled and messy in my mind. It lets me cry, breathe and put words to feelings that feel confusing, conflicting and overwhelming. It’s my release.

2. I shared because I knew I wasn’t the only one who felt or would one day feel the pain of losing a baby I never got the chance to meet. After our loss, I turned to the internet and re-read two blog posts I remember crying over years ago when two women shared their experiences with miscarriage and it immediately made me feel less alone. I saw them living life with smiles on their faces after their losses and it gave me hope.

After sharing my first miscarriage, I heard from so many of you and you opened up to me and told me such personal stories. Your comments made me cry for you, hurt with you and hope with you. They made me feel less alone in a time when it’s easy to feel like you’re the only one experiencing such a crushing loss.

If your comments, messages, emails and stories touched me after our first loss, they were permanently etched into my heart after our second.

Truthfully, I wasn’t sure if I wanted to write about our second loss on the blog. It was so painful and so raw and the emotions that came along with a second miscarriage were confusing to me because I was suddenly dealing with anger and frustration in addition to sadness and longing.

But you get it.

When I began reading your comments, I saw immediately that you completely get it.

When you typed out words like miscarriage sucks and losing a baby is so shitty – words that, to an outsider may seem blunt and harsh – I felt understood. Miscarriage DOES suck. It IS shitty. And it’s miserable and hard and horrible and unfair.

Our experiences with two miscarriages also taught me something important. So many people are dealing with something difficult in their lives. We’re talking seriously HARD stuff. The kind of stuff that would give anyone permission to be cold, angry, jaded and withdrawn. But they’re not. You’re not. And it’s incredible to me.

I received comments from more than a few of you that took my breath away because of the kindness and compassion you showed to me through your pain. It’s not fair to compare painful stories because loss sucks no matter how you look at it but the word heartbreaking doesn’t even begin to describe what so many of you have been through.

Multiple miscarriages, infertility, stillbirths, infant loss, child loss, loss of loved ones. It’s horrible and sad and unfair and, yes, shitty. It’s okay to be angry, sad, confused, scared, overwhelmed, mad, exhausted… It’s okay to be all of those things and more.

But what blows me away is how unbelievably kind so many of you are to me and to others through your pain. As women have opened up to me about loss in their lives after our miscarriages, both in my personal life and online, I see firsthand just how STRONG women are and how selflessly and courageously women handle the horrible things life throws at them.

So many of you have not allowed loss to cause you to shut down. You haven’t allowed it to harden your heart and make you cold, bitter and angry. Maybe for a moment or a season, but not forever. Instead you’re using your pain to help others, to help me, through loss and struggle.

This is amazing and awesome and inspiring. This is what keeps me going because I want to do exactly what you’ve done for me for others. It’s what made me want to open up about our second loss – something so deeply personal – again.

So this blog post is my very long-winded way of saying thank you to all of you for what feels like the billionth time. You are changing my heart for the better. You are giving me hope and strengthening my faith and I am grateful.