I was sitting by a group of ladies chatting when the topic of miscarriage came up in conversation. It all began with someone
sharing how someone they knew had announced the news of his wife’s pregnancy early on Facebook. Apparently later, he had to post about the miscarriage that way too. The woman affected was then showered with “I am so sorry” and “How
terrible” messages and did not react well to the messages. The woman got pregnant a second time and miscarried a second time and the husband repeated the Facebook pregnancy announcement and follow up miscarriage announcement. The consensus was that the husband was an idiot to share such news early. Someone even piped up that “Everyone knows you should never tell anyone about a pregnancy until the first trimester is over.” I also heard someone respond, “Well, that’s what you get when you announce it over Facebook.” Apparently, if she didn’t want the messages afterward to remind her of her loss, it was too bad her husband was so stupid.
I was flabbergasted by the course of this conversation. As someone who suffered miscarriages the venom of the comment of, “Well, that’s what you get when you announce it over Facebook” floored me. It was as if everybody could agree that the woman who miscarried deserved to deal with the outpouring of reminders that she had just suffered a miscarriage. I understand
that no one can relate to the grave loss of losing a baby unless she has suffered through the unfortunate experience. However, I did presume that everyone agreed such an event was truly devastating and no added stress was needed or deserved by
anyone.
Before both of my miscarriages, I had told almost no one about either pregnancy, but that was my choice. It was more of a superstitious thing, not a preventative measure from having to ever tell anyone that it had happened to me. There is no right way to handle a miscarriage and anyone suffering the loss has every right to not want to deal with people’s sympathies. They are allowed to grieve however they feel they need to, even if other people cannot understand.
Are people supposed to put aside their enthusiasm for pregnancies on the chance of miscarriage? What if you kept it quiet and
suffered a miscarriage? Is it wrong to let others know that you were pregnant and miscarried? If that is the case, many people will likely think that Murphy Lives Here should have never been written, but I digress.
I put in my two cents in the conversation and defended these people I neither have nor will ever meet. The truth is, whatever
social rules are out there, they are nonsense. Everybody who is trying for a baby and finds out they are pregnant has to have a certain level of optimism. Sharing the news when, where, and with whom is completely up to the people immediately affected. If something horrible happens, the couple at the center of the loss has to deal with the worst possible scenario of never parenting their baby. On the off chance that anyone out there is uncomfortable with finding out about a couple’s miscarriage,
it pales in comparison to what the couple is feeling and facing each day and for the rest of their lives.
Here is my truth. There is not a day that goes by that I don’t think about my miscarriages. It has been years, but the pain does not dissipate, not fully. Yes, I have a child now and I am over the moon about it, but I can’t help but ponder on the lives that I celebrated and planned for, albeit briefly since they never joined me on this earth. I am sure the people I overheard having this conversation meant no disrespect to anyone who has or will have to face a miscarriage. If they knew how I really felt, they might feel a little bad about it. Perhaps I am mistaken to make an assumption and they would just believe that I was overreacting. Maybe they would be right. I suppose everyone is entitled to their opinion, and that is why I felt compelled to share mine.
sharing how someone they knew had announced the news of his wife’s pregnancy early on Facebook. Apparently later, he had to post about the miscarriage that way too. The woman affected was then showered with “I am so sorry” and “How
terrible” messages and did not react well to the messages. The woman got pregnant a second time and miscarried a second time and the husband repeated the Facebook pregnancy announcement and follow up miscarriage announcement. The consensus was that the husband was an idiot to share such news early. Someone even piped up that “Everyone knows you should never tell anyone about a pregnancy until the first trimester is over.” I also heard someone respond, “Well, that’s what you get when you announce it over Facebook.” Apparently, if she didn’t want the messages afterward to remind her of her loss, it was too bad her husband was so stupid.
I was flabbergasted by the course of this conversation. As someone who suffered miscarriages the venom of the comment of, “Well, that’s what you get when you announce it over Facebook” floored me. It was as if everybody could agree that the woman who miscarried deserved to deal with the outpouring of reminders that she had just suffered a miscarriage. I understand
that no one can relate to the grave loss of losing a baby unless she has suffered through the unfortunate experience. However, I did presume that everyone agreed such an event was truly devastating and no added stress was needed or deserved by
anyone.
Before both of my miscarriages, I had told almost no one about either pregnancy, but that was my choice. It was more of a superstitious thing, not a preventative measure from having to ever tell anyone that it had happened to me. There is no right way to handle a miscarriage and anyone suffering the loss has every right to not want to deal with people’s sympathies. They are allowed to grieve however they feel they need to, even if other people cannot understand.
Are people supposed to put aside their enthusiasm for pregnancies on the chance of miscarriage? What if you kept it quiet and
suffered a miscarriage? Is it wrong to let others know that you were pregnant and miscarried? If that is the case, many people will likely think that Murphy Lives Here should have never been written, but I digress.
I put in my two cents in the conversation and defended these people I neither have nor will ever meet. The truth is, whatever
social rules are out there, they are nonsense. Everybody who is trying for a baby and finds out they are pregnant has to have a certain level of optimism. Sharing the news when, where, and with whom is completely up to the people immediately affected. If something horrible happens, the couple at the center of the loss has to deal with the worst possible scenario of never parenting their baby. On the off chance that anyone out there is uncomfortable with finding out about a couple’s miscarriage,
it pales in comparison to what the couple is feeling and facing each day and for the rest of their lives.
Here is my truth. There is not a day that goes by that I don’t think about my miscarriages. It has been years, but the pain does not dissipate, not fully. Yes, I have a child now and I am over the moon about it, but I can’t help but ponder on the lives that I celebrated and planned for, albeit briefly since they never joined me on this earth. I am sure the people I overheard having this conversation meant no disrespect to anyone who has or will have to face a miscarriage. If they knew how I really felt, they might feel a little bad about it. Perhaps I am mistaken to make an assumption and they would just believe that I was overreacting. Maybe they would be right. I suppose everyone is entitled to their opinion, and that is why I felt compelled to share mine.