Miscarriage: Living Through the Darknessby Ellen DuBois on 02/17/14
If you're here, chances are you've suffered a miscarriage. If that's the case, I am so sorry for your loss. I know the heartache.
Reflecting back on those first days after my miscarriage, I see a young woman who felt numb, detached, sick, afraid. From the moment I knew my baby was gone, my entire world was rocked to its core. Everything I saw was skewed. Even colors appeared different, as if cloaked with a gray, heavy, wet piece of guaze.
I went into quite a tailspin after losing my son. I was twenty five, sixteen and a half weeks pregnant and suddenly that same twenty five year old was shattered. I had to say goodbye to my baby and didn't want to. I had to live with my baby still inside of me until the D&C. I had to kiss the dreams of our first Thanksgiving and Christmas as a family goodbye along with a treasure chest of more dreams.
Let go? I didn't want to let go, but life was forcing my hand.
I wept and nobody could console me. I remember waking up after my D&C. I never took well to anesthesia. The minute my eyes opened, I threw up and because of the procedure, my gown became drenched with blood with the sudden jerking of my body.
Although I was dazed, I was well aware of what happened. I didn't speak, but heard a kind nurse assure me it was okay and she began cleaning me up.
God, it was awful.
At home, I was a heap of tears, tissues and had zip for energy.
I wanted to wake up from the nightmare, but I was awake. It was my life. Sleep was the only thing that buffered the blow and it was difficult to sleep. My mind kept churning. I replayed the day I found out my baby had no heartbeat in my mind over and over again.
It took a lot of time, faith, grieving, crying, letting it out, crying some more and then some before I could even begin to crawl out of the dark hole I was in. Feeling like nobody quite got what I was going through didn't help.
So, when I was up to it, I searched the bookstores for something to assure me I was normal for feeling like I did. I grew very tired after coming up empty handed. To say it sucked is an understatement.
My world was dark. My relationship with my husband was dark. The world felt dark and I wondered how I'd live through all the darkness.
Somehow, I did. It was not easy. My marriage ended less than two years after my miscarriage, throwing me into yet another tailspin.
I survived. I talked to a counselor and it helped. I got through my divorce and although I was shaken by all the panic attacks I was experiencing, I got through them, too.
You know, you are normal if you're feeling like you're sitting in some sort of bottomless pit, wondering where the light of day is. You're normal if one minute you feel "kind of sort of okay" and the next you're breaking down into a heap of tears. You are normal if you think about your baby and wonder what went wrong. You're normal if you can't stand the thought of being around a pregnant woman, even if she's a friend or relative. You're not a bad person, you're a woman in pain and being around someone who is pregant just makes you remember...everything.
I want you to try and believe, as hard as it might seem, that you'll get through this. You will come out on the other side. I won't lie to you and give you a time frame. We are all different and grieve in our own way and in our own time. You will, however, get through this and I know, if you're feeling anything like I did all those years ago, it's very hard for you to believe you'll feel anything close to how you used to feel. It's hard to believe you'll ever laugh again or breathe a nice deep, relaxed breath without your chest feeling so tight you're going to explode.
God, I've been there and I'm so, so sorry if you're there right now. I wish I could wipe away your tears and hug away some of your pain. I wish, I wish.
What I can do is share some of my journey after my own miscarriage, as I did here. I can revisit a time when I was so afraid...of everything. I can tell you I questioned God, myself, asked "why" a thousand times. I reveal this part of my life to you because I want you to know you are not alone and you're also not crazy or abnormal or anything of the sort.
You are a woman who has lost her baby and is grieving. And, guess what? You have every right to grieve no matter what anyone else thinks or says or does. You have the right to feel and need time to heal.
You will live through the darkness and come out on the other side. You will survive this time in your life and I'd be willing to say you wonder, sometimes, if you will.
You will. Reach out. Ask for help. Reach up. Ask God for a hand. Reach for a pen, or sit in front of your computer and get those feelings out so you can free up some space in your body, mind and soul for healing.
It's a tough journey, but I assure you, it will get better and your little one will always be near.
I know. My little one got me through so many tough times.
Looking back, I think he was so much of my strength, pulling me through the darkness.
Love and Light to you,
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. email@example.com
Love & comfort to you, Ellen