I’m not pregnant anymore.
I have heard these words repeatedly at The Nook. And from women friends. And family.
There is a beautiful, wise woman whom I have had the pleasure of meeting this year and she described it this way… “It is like a secret society basically, and you don’t really know how many people are a part of that secret society of miscarriage and pregnancy loss until you have the password, which is ‘it happened to me’ ”.
That’s all. It’s that simple. It happened to me too. I remember thinking the words myself. When I saw the spots, and I knew… I knew that my 11-week pregnancy was over.
After sharing your loss, suddenly the secret sadness becomes a shared sadness. You’re no longer alone with your grief. You’re no longer quite so isolated. It is part of the fabric of your story and part of the fabric of many women’s stories. Tapestries that remain colorful, rich, and beautiful, with stain of pain. A sting of remembering. Remembering the baby you won’t get to hold. The baby you won’t watch grow up. The baby you won’t get to meet. Your pain is a way of honoring your baby. Let it wash over you. Let yourself feel the anguish because It Is Real. You are recognizing the loss, even though it may be a secret loss.
So let the tears come. Give yourself time. Share your story with people you know will support you. The secret password you never, ever wanted is also the key to an abundance of support you didn’t know you would need.