Finding Hope After Multiple Miscarriages

“Grief is like the ocean; it comes on waves ebbing and flowing. Sometimes the water is calm, and sometimes it is overwhelming. All we can do is learn to swim.” – Vicki Harrison

That sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach that tells you that something is very wrong. Alarm bells are going off in your head. Nurses on the phone reassure you not to worry, that spotting can happen in the first trimester. They say to go to the ER if you start bleeding more than a pad in an hour. Like that’s supposed to make you feel safe and reassured?

You try to remain calm and go about your day. Do you continue to work to keep your mind off of things? Should you try not to walk as often? Every time you go the bathroom, you’re filled with terror to look and see what is going on with your body. Is the spotting getting worse? What color is it now?

As the days go on, that feeling gets stronger and stronger. You try to hold onto hope. Hope that the spotting has stopped. That the little baby growing in your belly gave you a little scare but it was just a hiccup in the early stages of your pregnancy.

Unfortunately, that feeling in your gut won’t go away. All those first signs of early pregnancy that you had in your body start to disappear. A horrible headache comes on. The spotting turns to bleeding. Panic, disbelief, and sadness fill every ounce of your body. You are losing your baby and there’s nothing you can do to stop it from happening. All the hopes and dreams that you had about the future are dissolving just as fast as when you got your positive pregnancy result.

When you finally are told to come into the Dr.’s office and get an ultrasound, your worst nightmare comes true. There is a gestational sac but no sign of an embryo. The words that you are so terrified to hear are confirmed by your doctor, “You’re having a miscarriage.”

No two miscarriages are alike. I’ve had 2, both in the first trimester. Even though they call it a miscarriage, it’s pretty incredible how different they were. Like there is one word that can define the outcome of the end of a pregnancy and the emotional and physical trauma that you experience with it?

My first one happened naturally and I never really stopped to think about what would have occurred if it was incomplete. Looking back, I guess ignorance is bliss. If it hasn’t happened to you, how would you know what to expect? My second one was not the case. It was incomplete and there was definitely a lot more physical trauma involved.

I really thought my first miscarriage was due to stress. When I found out I was pregnant last summer, part of me was worried but I tried to brush aside those thoughts. After all, what are the chances of having two miscarriages in a row? Turns out, it’s pretty small, about 2%. That number reassured me and I tried to go about my normal routine. The only problem was that nagging feeling that there was something wrong never fully went away.

I can only speak of my own experience with miscarriages but here are some important realizations and truths that have helped me through this challenging time in my life:

It’s ok to experience uncomfortable feelings. It broke my heart to see all these little kids and anyone with a baby bump in the weeks and months that followed after experiencing such a loss. I remember when I was going to get an ultrasound to confirm that everything had passed from my miscarriage, sitting in the waiting room was so agonizing because it was filled with expectant mothers. The hardest part that day was watching a pregnant couple show their ultrasound pictures of their baby to family members. I did everything I could not to breakdown. The emotions of loss were just too fresh and raw.

Of course, it’s also one of those things that once you’re aware of pregnancy, it’s everywhere. I felt conflicting emotions for friends who were pregnant which made me feel guilty and embarrassed. They were bittersweet feelings. Part of me was happy for my friends who were pregnant. Another part of me felt angry, sad, and resentful at times. A voice in my head would say, “Why me?” “Why did I lose my baby?” My counselor helped me realize that it’s ok to feel uncomfortable feelings like anger, grief, and sorrow when I see other babies and people who are pregnant. That I shouldn’t feel shameful because these feelings served as guides to help me realize what I wanted most, to be a mom.

You are not alone even though it might feel that way. I felt really alone and isolated when I was having my miscarriages. It was also hard because my husband just didn’t get what I was experiencing physically, so there was also a disconnect between the two of us. The more that I opened up about them to friends, the more friends I learned had experienced a pregnancy loss as well. It helped build strong connections with others who have experienced miscarriages. It’s a club that you might not want to be a part of but once you join it, you are bonded for life.

Some people might not be there for you because they might not be aware of what you are experiencing and understand it. It was really hard for me when I would tell a friend or family member that I had a miscarriage and then he or she would say a short comment and never bring it up again. I would think, this is one of the hardest things I have ever gone through and when we talk we’re never going there again? Like it was a minor incident in my life and everything was just supposed to return to normal right away?

Or they would say things like “it happened for the best” or “it wasn’t meant to be.” My favorite line was, “at least you can get pregnant.” What I wanted to say after hearing that comment was, but I can’t keep the baby so how does that help?

I think for some people who might not have experienced a loss like a miscarriage, they don’t fully understand. And that’s ok. I also know for myself, I wasn’t expressing how I was feeling when those comments were made and what I needed from others. Find trusted people that you can have honest and genuine conversations about what you are experiencing. Loss is uncomfortable and if people don’t know what you need, they aren’t going to be able to read your mind and be there for you in the way you need them to be.

Anxiety is a real thing and is normal after experiencing a pregnancy loss. I have never thought of myself as an anxious person. I used to be incredibly carefree and free-spirited. After having two miscarriages, it really changed me.

I have times where I will get hypervigilant about what I am eating, how active I am being, how much water I am drinking, if I should be putting food in plastic or stick to glass…The list goes on and on and on. Once the mind starts running, it’s really hard to turn off those thoughts. Give yourself grace.

To listen to my body. Because of my miscarriages, I have started to become extra observant of sensations with my body and my cycles. I have never been more in tuned with my body than I am right now and am learning to view that as a gift.

You’re not a failure. Both times that my miscarriages happened, I felt like my body failed me. Like I was broken and it was all of my fault. That deep down maybe this happened because I didn’t truly deserve to be a mother. I’d think of everything I did and wonder if anything contributed to my miscarriages. Should I have worked out that day? Was it the bath I took? Maybe I shouldn’t have eaten that fish? Did I stay hydrated enough? As hard as it may be, try to stop blaming yourself.

Some tips that really helped me find some peace. I honestly don’t ever think that grief or trauma ever goes away 100%. There are definitely moments where I feel calm. Then, particularly, when I go the Dr. or do any type of movement like yoga, I have times where I just can’t hold in all of my tears and feel like a big mess. The pain and anxiety may never go away completely but here are some things that have helped me cope.

Support groups: My husband and I started going to a support group for infertility and miscarriages. At first, I wasn’t sure if we should go to a support group because both of my miscarriages were in the first trimester and I thought that other people there would think it’s silly that we were going for that. The truth is a loss is a loss.

There were quite a few other couples who also had recurrent miscarriages in their first trimester and it made me feel like my feelings were validated. The leader of our group had two miscarriages before having 2 healthy kids. It gave me some hope.

It was also good to hear different perspectives as my husband and I had opposite ways of dealing with our loss. We got to have conversations with other couples who were experiencing something similar. It made me realize that everyone experiences loss differently and there is no “one right way” to cope.

Self-care: It’s not to say that I wasn’t taking care of myself before the miscarriages, but after having them, it really made me realize how big of a priority it is for self-care. Making sure that I am exercising, staying hydrated, eating healthy, and getting the proper amount of sleep. I also started to do acupuncture. My acupuncturist that I saw was a nutritionist as well. She helped me to identify what foods to eat and which foods to avoid that may lead to increased inflammation in the body. I also started doing Gabby Bernstein’s 5-minute meditation challenge for 40-days, which has been incredibly powerful: https://gabbybernstein.com/podcast/5-minute-guided-meditation-that-will-change-your-life/

Honoring your baby: What also helped me deal with my losses was taking time to process my emotions and honoring the babies that were growing inside of me. I named and wrote letters to both of them. Once the letter was written, I picked a time where I lit a candle and incense and was able to sit with my feelings in silence and mourn what had happened. I have heard of other couples planting trees, getting an ornament, tattoos, or jewelry as a remembrance.

Advocate for yourself: The support group that I went to really helped me realize how important it is to advocate that your doctor test you for different genetic conditions. My nutritionist also stressed getting tested for vitamin deficiencies like B-12, vitamin D, and iron. She also recommended that I get my thyroid checked and get tested for MTHFR.

It’s infuriating because some doctors won’t do testing until you have 3 miscarriages, which makes it “recurrent.” Honestly, who wants to go through 3 before they start getting any testing done? One is enough.

All of my results came back normal accept for one. I found out that I had MTHFR. Although this is relativity common and can occur in about 30-40% of the population, I am grateful that I got that testing done because I learned this condition can lead to increased risk of miscarriage. It also helped confirm that feeling during my second pregnancy that something wasn’t right.

With MTHFR, the body is not able to break down the synthetic version of folate, folic acid, effectively which can accumulate in the body. Since folate is necessary for a developing embryo especially for the nervous system, it is important to make sure you are getting enough. I never knew how much food had folic acid in it until I was aware of MTHFR. It has led me to go on a prenatal vitamin that has methylfolate instead of folic acid and to avoiding eating foods with folic acid in them like cereal and pasta. My Dr. also said that I should start taking baby aspirin when trying to conceive.

Do your own research: I never thought I’d be reading so many books about pregnancy and nutrition, until now. For me it really started once I got diagnosed with MTHFR. Some books that I thought were very useful were: “It Starts with the Egg,” “What to Eat When You Want to Get Pregnant,” “What to Eat When You’re Pregnant,” “The Fifth Vital Sign: Master Your Cycles & Optimize Your Fertility,” “Dirty Genes,” and “The Infertility Cure.”

Get a second opinion: After my first miscarriage, I was told not to worry. That it happens to 1 in 4 women and that I had regular cycles and was relatively young. But I was worried and that feeling got stronger and stronger with my second pregnancy.

Since this is my second miscarriage, I decided to go to another specialist because I didn’t want to waste any more time. Even though I really like my OBGYN, I don’t think a second opinion could hurt. After expressing my concerns to my primary doctor, she was also able to schedule a special ultrasound at a specialty clinic to make sure that there weren’t any physical problems leading to the miscarriage. Don’t feel bad about trying to find answers. Your time is important and deserves to be taken seriously.

Set a time limit to allow yourself to go down the “rabbit hole”: Someone in my support group suggested allowing yourself a set time limit to spiral. After my most recent miscarriage, I couldn’t help but spiral and go down the deep abyss of google. The only problem is that I wouldn’t stop and it would escalate. Set a time limit and stick to it. 20 minutes a day and no longer.

Humor can do wonders: I am so grateful that my husband has been the more positive one in this experience. If we were both negative all the time, that energy would have been pretty unbearable. His humor has helped me be more positive because it can be really hard to get out of feeling sad, worried, and pessimistic.

I wish I would have never had to experience a miscarriage. I wish that on nobody. They suck.

Do I feel great some days and not so good other days? Absolutely. Some days I feel like I am just trying to stay afloat in the ocean when the waves keep beating me down.

I don’t know if my grief and longing will ever go away completely. My desire to have a baby and be a mother are stronger than they have ever been. All that I can do right now is keep hoping.

The hope is all I have left. I keep telling myself that these miscarriages will make it so much more special if my husband and I are able to have a healthy baby. The hope that keeps me going is that if we do have a healthy baby, there is no doubt how loved and wanted he or she will be.

I won’t ever forget the two losses and wonder where those two kiddos would have been right now if they would have been able to take their first breaths on this Earth. All I know is that I am not going to stop swimming in the ocean that is life, whatever waves may come my way on this journey to become a parent.

Sarah Masse

“Grief is like the ocean; it comes on waves ebbing and flowing. Sometimes the water is calm, and sometimes it is overwhelming. All we can do is learn to swim.” – Vicki Harrison