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MiscarriageHelp.com

MiscarriageHelp.com

Bound by Love

by Ellen DuBois on 07/20/16



Hello Everyone,

As many of you know, I miscarried many years ago. Although time and faith have turned a once very raw wound into a scar, I still think about the baby I never held. I still feel an ache in my heart. I wonder what my baby would have been like and all the joys I would have experienced being his mother.

Over the years, I've taken comfort in our spiritual connection. I really feel there's a divine thread that keeps our souls attached. My baby and I- We are bound by love.

It's different for all of us. Some of you may not be spiritual. We are all different and we grieve differently, too. We process loss in our own way and at individual paces.

I don't think there is a right or a wrong way to grieve after suffering a miscarriage. You may cry a lot or cry a little. You might feel like you'll never be "normal" again while some may bounce back to their "new normal" sooner.

Life after miscarriage is different for all of us. The thing is, it's different. That can be defined so many ways because we are different people.

I believe we're also connected.

Wherever you're at and however you feel, I want you to know you're not alone. There are so many of us who have experienced an "upsidedown" life after miscarriage. There are so many of us you who share in your pain, your loss, your heartache and your healing.

Life after miscarriage may be different for each of us, but our connection is the same. We are connected because we are miscarriage survivors, no matter how we process our losses or where we're at on the road after miscarriage.

I am deeply sorry for your loss. You are not alone. Please remember the connection we share...We are bound by love.

Love and Light,

Ellen

Welcome to MiscarriageHelp.com. My name is Ellen DuBois, host of this site, miscarriage survivor, and author of I Never Held You: Miscarriage, Grief, Healing and Recovery. If you or someone you love has suffered a miscarriage, please know you're not alone. Connect with people who understand.

Note: Some people find it difficult to post comments here because it's not very clear how to do it. Just hit the "comment" link under any post. I'll get your comment and respond. If it's easier, please email me. ellen@miscarriagehelp.com
Love & comfort to you, Ellen

The MiscarriageHelp.com Daily- paper.li- by Ellen DuBois. Updated daily with a curated selection of articles, blog posts, videos and photos. Click here. Miscarriage Support- Because Your Loss Matters.



I Can Still Feel You

by Ellen DuBois on 07/04/16



I can still feel you. Sometimes, when I least expect it, my heart feels a love so strong, so deep, it transcends all time and space as we know it. I realize it's you, surrounding me, telling me, making me realize LOVE never dies. It is eternal. It is in everything. It surrounds everything and everyone. When I miss you most, you remind me you are with me. From the warmth of the morning sun on my face to the vast beauty of the endless stars at night, I can still feel you. - Ellen M. DuBois

Welcome to MiscarriageHelp.com. My name is Ellen DuBois, host of this site, miscarriage survivor, and author of I Never Held You: Miscarriage, Grief, Healing and Recovery. If you or someone you love has suffered a miscarriage, please know you're not alone. Connect with people who understand.

Note: Some people find it difficult to post comments here because it's not very clear how to do it. Just hit the "comment" link under any post. I'll get your comment and respond. If it's easier, please email me. ellen@miscarriagehelp.com
Love & comfort to you, Ellen

The MiscarriageHelp.com Daily- paper.li- by Ellen DuBois. Updated daily with a curated selection of articles, blog posts, videos and photos. Click here. Miscarriage Support- Because Your Loss Matters.



Closure or "Necessary Acceptance"?

by Ellen DuBois on 07/03/16



My father and I were taking last week and he told me about a radio show he listened to on WBUR, (out of Boston). He didn't remember the guest doctor's name, but I believe she was a doctor and grief counselor. (I couldn't find the show on BUR to listen to it myself, but I'd like to.)

Given that my father lost his wife and best friend of 54 years about a year and a half ago, I'm sure the show resonated with him. He said as much. It would have with me, too. My father's wife and best friend was also my mother and quite honestly, I'm still adjusting to a world where the sand feels like it's constantly shifting beneath my feet.

I felt the very same way after I miscarried and it lasted for years.

A few minutes into our conversation he brought up what he thought was a very interesting point the doctor made. It was about closure and how it was a word she (the doctor/guest) wished she could strike from the dictionary.

At first, I was a little surprised. Not shocked, but surprised.

Many of the women who make comments or write to me on miscarriagehelp.com long for closure. I felt the same way after my miscarriage.

After listening to my father expound on what he derived from the show, I thought about it some more.

I'm still thinking about it. Everything I've ever thought about closure and how it applies to grief has been rocked, if you will.

So many of us look for closure. It's something we feel will help us as we grieve. The thing is, is there really any closure when you lose someone you love?

Could we be chasing an elusive butterfly?

I thought closure was so important after I miscarried because I didn't have any. I've also said to many of my visitors at miscarriagehelp.com: If you knew why you miscarried, would you feel any better? Would it change anything? I know it wouldn't have for me. In other words, knowing the "why" wouldn't have brought back the baby I lost or lessened the pain I felt. It was palpable. 

If my mother's wake and funeral were considered "closure" it didn't lessen the pain. It didn't help me cope with losing her. I don't miss her any less nor do any other members of my family. Did my mother's wake and funeral provide any "closure" for me? No. It was a way to say goodbye. It was out of love and respect for my mother's life that we had these things. It was a way for family and friends to gather, offer support, show love.

None of us wanted to say goodbye. We were blessed to have people there to help us through the most painful experience we, as a family and as individuals, were experiencing.

I never got the chance to formally say goodbye, surrounded by family and friends, after I miscarried at four months. I longed for the "closure" I thought a proper burial or some sort of ceremony would bring.

I thought it would help, this thing called "closure". But, a year plus after losing my mother, I see the world differently.  No wake or funeral brought me closure. It was a respectful way to honor a life very well lived, surrounded by family and friends who cared about us and my mother.

I believe the doctor my father listened to said, (with regard to closure), ...people are looking for something that simply isn't there.

I'm paraphrasing...but could that be true?

I'm acutely aware that grief is grief and it hurts. No amount of closure can change that. I wasn't looking for closure when my mother died. I went through the motions of a wake and funeral with the rest of my family, somewhat numb to everything as a sort of protection mechanism.

When someone you love dies, be it your mother, a friend, a spouse, the baby you loved and lost to miscarriage, you grieve, hurt and try to get through each day. We trudge through the muck and each of us does the best we can. Some days are easier than others. There are moments we feel we've conquered or overcome the worst of it, only to find ourselves feeling like we've taken three steps back on a bad day.

I don't think any amount of "closure" can help with that.

Again, I didn't have any closure when I lost my baby to miscarriage all those years ago. When my mother passed away a year and a half ago, the wake and funeral didn't feel like closure to me. My faith carried me, often times being the only light I could see. My faith still carries me.

While I think having a funeral or a celebration of life gives us a way to honor the one we've loved, I also know there's no bandaid for grief. We have to go through it. I think it may help to have what we call "closure" (a wake and/or funeral), but it certainly does not change the way we grieve or the depths of our grief.

When it comes to grief and closure I have to ask:

Does closure really exist?

To that end all I can say is my faith carried me though the days, months and years of grieving and healing after my miscarriage and that same faith is carrying me now after the loss of my mother. Just as I learned to put one foot in front of the other while living a "new normal" after my miscarriage, I am doing the same thing after losing my mother. 

There has been a "necessary acceptance", but I wouldn't use the word closure. That implies something is finished. I don't think love ever is.


Welcome to MiscarriageHelp.com. My name is Ellen DuBois, host of this site, miscarriage survivor, and author of I Never Held You: Miscarriage, Grief, Healing and Recovery. If you or someone you love has suffered a miscarriage, please know you're not alone. Connect with people who understand.

Note: Some people find it difficult to post comments here because it's not very clear how to do it. Just hit the "comment" link under any post. I'll get your comment and respond. If it's easier, please email me. ellen@miscarriagehelp.com
Love & comfort to you, Ellen

The MiscarriageHelp.com Daily- paper.li- by Ellen DuBois. Updated daily with a curated selection of articles, blog posts, videos and photos. Click here. Miscarriage Support- Because Your Loss Matters.



Just because I never held you, doesn't mean I didn't love you.

by Ellen DuBois on 06/25/16



Over twenty-years ago I lost my baby to miscarriage. To say it was one of the loneliest, most isolating times of my life is an understatement. Nobody saw my baby. I never held my sweet baby. So, why was I overcome with such grief?

When you suffer a miscarriage, many people don't view your loss as 'real'. If they do, there seems to be a limit on the time you're allowed to grieve. All too quickly women hear: Don't you think you should be over this by now? Or the dreaded, It was meant to be. There was probably something wrong with the baby, and You can always have another.

Like this baby didn't count? That's how I felt all those years ago, and sadly, many women feel still feel that way today. For as far as we've come in terms of miscarriage awareness, support sites, groups and books on miscarriage, we've got a long way to go. But, at least we're heading in the right direction. Step by step.

I digress .

At twenty-five years old, I stood knee deep in the fallout of my miscarriage. I felt like a wet, heavy blanket was draped around my shoulders. My husband, (at the time), and I didn't talk about it much. He didn't get the connection I'd already formed with my unborn. After sixteen-weeks of pregnancy, suddenly, I wasn't. My body felt pregnant. My hormones were a mess. I was bloated, depressed, and cried at the drop of a hat. I avoided pregnant women like the plague along with anything having to do with babies. The thought of attending a baby shower made me cringe. I barely made is past the baby isle in the grocery store without suffering a panic attack, or fearing I'd burst out in tears.

I was happy for friends and family who were pregnant; it's just that I viewed pregnancy as a reminder of what I lost. It stung. I couldn't break free from the world of "Why not me?" Why couldn't it be me? Why did I lose my baby? Why. Why. Why?!

My grief lasted a long time. Although I was back to work within a week of my D&C, I was just going through the motions, still wearing that heavy blanket. By the time July rolled around, I was so run down I landed in bed with a double lobe pneumonia. That's how I spent my Fourth of July. There were so many tears, so many words left unspoken, and so much kept inside. I busied myself to the point of distraction so I wouldn't have to think. Every time I thought, my mind went straight to the baby I lost and missed. The tears would flow again.

That made me sick, literally.

There were days I thought I was losing it. There were moments I thought I was crazy. Why couldn't I let go? Where was the relief? Why couldn't I talk to my husband about it without him getting worked up or wanting to avoid the subject and me all together?

I learned over time that I wasn't crazy or losing it for feeling the way I did. I learned after my miscarriage and divorce and lots of grieving and growing that what I felt was normal. I learned my life took on a "new normal" after my miscarriage because I suffered a very real loss- one that went unacknowledged by many. I learned after searching and searching for something that spoke to me and my pain that there wasn't much out there- not back then, and so I had to dig deep into my faith and into myself, to find ways to cope and heal.

I remember the day, eleven years after my miscarriage, sitting at the kitchen table when a feeling so strong told me to write about my experience and life after miscarriage. The need to reach out to other women was incredibly powerful and I couldn't ignore it. After all those years, I knew it was time to dive in to something I never thought I would: revisiting miscarriage and giving validation and support to those who needed it. Even if I reached just one person, I had to give it a try. Why? Because I didn't want anyone feeling as alone and isolated as I did after I miscarried.

The Internet wasn't really around when I miscarried, but it was eleven years later. I learned about e-books and wrote a short one about what I went through and steps I took along my journey toward healing after miscarriage. My support site was launched in 2006, and I began receiving comment after comment from women who needed to voice themselves- let it out. They were living the nightmare I'd lived and felt they had no one to talk to. They felt dismissed and found a place where they could be heard by others who’d lived it.

My e-book grew into a paperback with much more added. Dr. Linda Backman, a licensed psychologist and grief counselor wrote a heartfelt foreword and several of the beginning chapters.

I never held you my little one, but I loved you with all my heart. Still do.

Welcome to MiscarriageHelp.com. My name is Ellen DuBois, host of this site, miscarriage survivor, and author of I Never Held You: Miscarriage, Grief, Healing and Recovery. If you or someone you love has suffered a miscarriage, please know you're not alone. Connect with people who understand.

Note: Some people find it difficult to post comments here because it's not very clear how to do it. Just hit the "comment" link under any post. I'll get your comment and respond. If it's easier, please email me. ellen@miscarriagehelp.com
Love & comfort to you, Ellen

The MiscarriageHelp.com Daily- paper.li- by Ellen DuBois. Updated daily with a curated selection of articles, blog posts, videos and photos. Click here. Miscarriage Support- Because Your Loss Matters.



Writing To Heal

by Ellen DuBois on 06/21/16



If you've recently suffered a miscarriage, you probably can't wrap your head around writing right now. I know after my miscarriage many years ago, writing was something I didn't give any thought to. I was too consumed by grief and exhausted. The days were a struggle to get through. "Pretending" to be okay when it was time to return to work left me feeling like a wet rag.

There was nothing left to put into words.

Time passed. I was functioning better, at least on the outside. Inside, well, that was a different story. I battled with feelings of jealousy over women who were pregnant. I cried when I passed the baby isle. Hearing about a friend who was pregnant felt like a knife in my gut, but I smiled and tried to celebrate their joy.

All the "trying" landed me in a place where I was so emotionally spent I didn't know who I was anymore. I guess I defined myself as the one who "tried" to get through her day. That's where all my energy went.

Until I started writing.

Although I was exhausted from trying so hard to "be normal", I had so many feelings I stuffed into the back of my mind. I didn't want to deal with them because I was afraid I'd fall apart. There were times I did, so I knew how little it took for the floodgates to burst- and that was exhausting, too.

I see now that letting it out was healthier. Keeping everything bottled up inside didn't help me. It hurt. Things got so bad I ended up with a pneumonia on the Fourth of July.

I digress. My miscarriage was in 1991. In '92 my husband and I bought our first house. By 1994, my husband and I split.

I was still grieving the loss of our baby and then the loss of my marriage. But, I worked, went to a counselor, tried to move forward while battling massive anxiety attacks...I tried. There's that word again- tried.  Life was such an effort I felt I had to write to keep my sanity.

Writing can be so freeing. I wrote songs, poems, music, and eventually I Never Held You, my book bout miscarriage, grief, healing & recovery. I actually wrote another book before that. It was fiction and it's pretty clear it was my first book. But, I got it done and published. That alone was therapeutic, (and no matter what, still an accomplishment). The story was pretty good- certainly not a masterpiece. Although it was fiction, I see how Jackie's Heart reflected my own hopes for a happy outcome despite a truckload of angst.

I am convinced writing helps heal. It helps heal yourself and may very well help someone else. Keeping everything inside is like shaking a champagne bottle- it's going to burst. Whether you write in a journal, blog, keep a notebook by the bed, record your feelings and write them down later or write what may become a book, it's all good. Releasing your feelings through writing leaves room inside to heal. You never know- the road you've walked and lessons you've learned could be the life preserver someone out there is desperately searching for.

(I'm going through this again a year and a half after losing my mother, along with a few other things I've been struggling with. I can feel myself getting closer to the words spilling out as they have before. I'll write. I'll heal.)

Welcome to MiscarriageHelp.com. My name is Ellen DuBois, host of this site, miscarriage survivor, and author of I Never Held You: Miscarriage, Grief, Healing and Recovery (Volume 1). If you or someone you love has suffered a miscarriage, please know you're not alone. Connect with people who understand.

Note: Some people find it difficult to post comments here because it's not very clear how to do it. Just hit the "comment" link under any post. I'll get your comment and respond. If it's easier, please email me. ellen@miscarriagehelp.com
Love & comfort to you, Ellen

The MiscarriageHelp.com Daily- paper.li- by Ellen DuBois. Updated daily with a curated selection of articles, blog posts, videos and photos. Click here. Miscarriage Support- Because Your Loss Matters.





Hello. My name is Ellen DuBois. Welcome to MiscarriageHelp.com. I am deeply sorry for your loss.



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"MiscarriageHelp.com is a support site for women and their families who have suffered the pain, loss and grief after miscarriage. I respond personally to each email and post and have been doing so since 2006. It's an outreach to me, as I try to connect and support those who have walked the often lonely road after miscarriage. Why? I don't want anyone to feel as alone as I did some twenty years ago after my own miscarriage." -Love & comfort to you, Ellen, - Ellen M. DuBois
I Never Held You: Miscarriage, Grief, Healing and Recovery








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