1 in 4 pregnancies end in miscarriage
I know that they do
But it is just a number
A statistic
Until it happens to you
Until you enter that darkened room
And wait for a flicker on the screen
A tiny white flicker of hope
That is not there, cannot be seen
You feel like you are losing your stomach
Your heart thumps and your head starts to spin
You can not move from the bed where you lie
No heartbeat, no baby, you realise
All the hopes and dreams and plans you have made
Gone, in a glance
No flicker, no chance
You feel so sick
You feel so numb
As they try to explain what is not there
What must come
A touch of a hand
Tear filled eyes
An honest I’m sorry
A subdued goodbye
And back in the car
The tears start to flow
As you realise this baby
Will never be, never grow
And somehow your body must start to let go
You must find it in your heart
To say good bye to this chance
Reason in your head
That this pregnancy must pass
But eights weeks is long when you’ve known from the start
And you long for a baby with all of your heart
Another goodbye, how many more must I take
Before my heart entirely breaks
How much pain must one family endure
They are close to crumbling that is for sure
The pain is intense
The hurt is so bad
You can’t help but feel
Devastatingly low and desperately sad
And try as you might to smile and go on
The pain wrecks your head
It takes hold of your heart
As you wait for the bleeding
The miscarriage to start
And you suddenly realise
The silent pain
The hidden hurt
Of the 1 in 4
Who lose their baby
And never say
They do not tell of what has gone
How they suffered all alone
Of how they dreamed and how they hoped
How they’ve been strong
How they coped
You do not know how much it hurts
Losing a baby, there is not much worse
The want, the need, the burning desire
Put out like the spark that might just start a fire
So many women are burned in this way
So many women never share, never say
How much it hurts
How they long to scream
As a tiny bubble bursts
And shatters their dreams
The pain rips through every minute of life
Trying to smile is like being cut with a knife
The pain is so hard and many bear it alone
Not daring to talk outside of their home
Of losing a baby
Not yet grown or born
Yet we had dreamed of their face
We are entitled to mourn
I am so angry
With my body, my fate
But for my growing baby
It is all too late
So I wait for my body
To lay my baby to rest
And know that I am truly blessed
To share my anger and fear with my family, friends
It is not how everyone’s miscarriage story ends
We need to talk about baby loss more
Be there for the women who walk out of that door
Scared and alone after what they have not seen
No flicker, no heartbeat on the scan screen
They go home alone
They sit and they wait
Their bodies and minds
They start to hate
And it is not their fault
There is nothing to do
It would help them to talk
We must break the taboo
1 in 4 pregnancies end in miscarriage
I know that they do
But it is just a number
A statistic
Until it happens to you
Again, I’m so sorry.
I know the hurt of miscarriage, all too well. I couldn’t agree more that it shouldn’t be a taboo.
I can’t imagine how much more painful this whole process is for you. So, again, I’m sorry.
When that rainbow comes it will be beautiful and it will have a Baby Tilda sun beam shining brightly on it x
Beautiful words Jennie. As always. The loss of a baby, whatever age, is heartbreaking. xx
You’re completely right. I don’t know why it is so taboo, or why I feel this post is so brave. You are writing from the heart, as you always do, and as you always must continue to do.
xxx
Hi Jennie,
I’m so sorry, I have been reading this series of posts on my phone but not alaways able to comment.
I have been thinking of you and am so sorry.
xxx
Such a moving post. Miscarriage is hard. Losing a baby is hard, no matter when it happens. It doesn’t get talked about enough. But when I lost my first baby, I just wanted someone to talk to and yet no one would talk because they didn’t want to upset me. I think we need to talk more.
I was desperately sorry to read your latest devastating news. I avidly read your blog but don’t usually comment as I cannot truly begin to understand or empathise with the loss of baby Tilda at 9 months. I never know the right words to say. But miscarriage I can empathise with. I am nearing the end of my sixth pregnancy. 3 lost, a daughter born at the 4th attempt, another baby lost last year, and hopefully my second (and last) to be born in a few weeks. So much hurt made all the more difficult because it’s so rarely talked about. People do not know how to react. They say the wrong thing, even though they are trying to help. And all because baby loss is not talked about openly enough for people to truly understand the sense of loss you feel no matter how early in the pregnancy that loss happens. With my last pregnancy I also saw a heartbeat at an early scan, only for it to be gone 3 weeks later. To suffer this loss after all you have been through seems so so cruel. Sending you lots of love xxxx
Oh this has made me cry. I found out I’d miscarried at my 12 week scan, my bump was there but baby had stopped growing. Then ha to wait a week for a d&c. I’ve never felt so utterly distraught. 17th November is my special day and will always be. Only family know what happened, it’s not something I feel I can ever drop into conversation x
Jennie I hear you, those words 1 in 4 pregnancies end this way those words will stay with me, being the lady that walks out of the scan room with tears of sadness not joy I have been that lady 3 times to many and I have been the lady who wants to scream at the thoughtless comments of people who do not know what to say, as your heartaches
I made it to 12 weeks 2 times, and 8 weeks another, so much love inside me for such a short time, so many plans I had made in those short few weeks all shattered in the blink of an eye
I am thinking and praying for you for your hopes and dreams xxx
Thinking of you, nothing else I can say will help at all so there it is, thinking of you xx
YES brave lady. Yes. Here for you and so ready to hear and talk about others’ miscarriages if they feel they can and want to. We need to make an atmosphere that feels safe and encouraging for people to share as much as they want and need to. So sad for you at this time too, Jennie and sending you stacks of love. x x x xx x x x
I am reading this and tears flow knowing where you are I have a 17yr old and 1 yr old but been pregnant 6 times those pregnancies Inbetween where your looking at the screen and no movement your heart drops the tears flow the scan before had been A heartbeat what happens in those few weeks ? Then knowing I have to go back in for the op to take you away , having Seth was a miracle and I’m trying Again now I don’t fall pregnant easy and then the worry , I wish you luck and don’t give up hope xxx
Beautiful words.
I hate that its taboo. I’ve written about it many times and freely talk about my 5 babies who were not to be.
A baby is a baby from the day it is implanted, as soon as you know xx
Xxx
Oh Jennie, you know what the more time I spend in this sad world of loss and hope and loss again sometimes the less I know what to say. My first venture into motherhood ended in similar way in March 2008. I only found out I was pregnant two days before I started spotting, although I thought I was about 8 weeks. I went along, was told that my I must be earlier than I thought, as they could see a sac, but it hadn’t developed. After days of tests and more scans I was told I would miscarry. I just had to get on with it, I worked until I lost my baby had a couple of weeks off and went back to normal. I had no support, no acknowledgement for my loss at all. When Finley died and we named him, I realised we had never even named our baby. People sometimes say to me that losing Finley must have been so much harder than their miscarriage. I dont know if I agree with that. They were different, but equally hard. With Finley I held him, bathed him, dressed him, read him a story, buried his body and had a place to go. I had nothing, not even a scan image for Poppet. We named her at his funeral, and buried the only thing I had a pregnancy kit, with him. I go to see both of them there now.
I am so sorry that Tilda has her brother or sister with her, and that they are not with you. I wish for you some happiness.
You’ve brought me to tears with the thought that Tilda has her angel baby brother or sister with her. What a bittersweet thing.
I’m so sorry for your heartbreaking loss. Because that’s exactly what it is. I so agree with you that miscarriage should be acknowledged more in society. It is still in our day and age, such a taboo subject and that is utterly wrong. Its not yet 3 years since I was in that hellish nightmare scenario but the only person I feel I can now talk about it to is my husband. That is wrong. Loss is loss and grief for an unborn child should be acknowledged by society. At the moment it is absolutely not xxx
Jennie – you are so right about miscarriage needing to be more talked about. With mine, I went along to my first scan at 13 weeks, thinking there was a chance they would tell me it was twins (I was really showing and feeling really really sick) only for the sonographer to go quiet and them ask me if I’d had any bleeding. I knew instantly it wasn’t good news and then she said ‘well there is no baby’ really of matter of factly. There was an empty sac and she said it was a missed miscarriage (it turned out to be a partial molar pregnancy which is another thing that is not talked about enough and is very scary as nobody really knows much about it). I had to go to a room off the scan room to wait to be told my options – for half an hour I had to listen to the delights and laughs of people after me having their scans. Luckily I was able to have an ERPC a couple of days later – I didn’t want to wait for it to happen as if my body hadn’t recognised for about 6 weeks who knew how long it could take? Anyway, I had some extremely hurtful comments -‘Well, it wasn’t really a baby’, ‘But you’ve got 3 children already’ and (from a member of my immediate family) ‘Well you won’t need the loft conversion now’ !! I found people couldn’t understand why I didn’t just ‘get over’ it but for me, I fell in love the minute I saw the positive pregnancy test and it wasn’t just a ‘baby’ I’d lsot but my whole future wasn’t going to be as it should have been. I’ve since had another baby but the one I lost would be two this Christmas and it still hurts to think of what might have been. Anyway I’m rambling now and this is your post but I want you to know you are not alone and as women we need to talk about this when it happens to us. x
again i am so sorry jennie i agree with all your words xx
I just wanted to tell you that I think this poem is absolutely beautiful yet heart wrenching at the same time. It should be published for anyone to read if they are going through a miscarriage. I am so sorry Jennie. x
I’m so so sorry. For me it’s 2 in 4, and each loss has been as heartbreaking as their sisters’ births were joyful. I’m as guilty as the rest for not really talking about it and I love your courage to speak out and loud – thank you x
Jennie, I’m so sorry you’re going through this. It seems even crueler considering all you’ve been through already.
I hate that statistic, 1 in 4. After my first miscarriage, I thought it’s ok, it’s 1 in 4, next time I’ll be fine. Next time, I lost so much blood I almost died. I didn’t even know I was pregnant until I doubled over in pain and got rushed to hospital. My statistic is 2 in 2. Or 100%. 100% childless. No scans, no tiny flickers, no babies.
You’re right, nobody wants to talk about it, they get embarrassed when I try to talk about it. Almost like, it’s been 4 years already – give it a rest. Or maybe they don’t want to talk about it, as it didn’t happen to them. They had nice, healthy babies and they don’t want to talk about the alternative.
It’s been almost 7 years since we lost The Bean, and a little over 4 years since we lost Bean #2 and I want to talk about it. I want to shout and cry and release some of the frustration I carry around with me … and I do, it’s just that no one listens to me. So if you want someone to talk to, feel free to talk to me. Carrying it around makes you angry, bitter and sad and I don’t want you to feel angry, bitter and sad if I can help stop that in any way xx
I very much understand your pain….. I am on baby loss number 2 (first I delivered and held at 18 weeks almost a year ago and very recently an early miscarriage after months of trying) and am REALLY struggling and definitely feeling very alone. Thank you so much for your message and I so wish this was a more openly discussed topic to help us get through these terribly painful times. One can never imagine the pain you feel during these times unless you have been through it as I had 0 clue beforehand and realize now how insensitive I was to those who suffered such losses in the past as I just didn’t get it. Here’s to hoping your words help those who luckily haven’t experienced such pain to be more sensitive and understanding of those who have.
Like millions before me, I miscarried a baby that only I knew about. I was young, too young really, and scared so I didn’t tell anyone and then it was too late to anyone because it was gone.
Every year, even now 11 years on, I let myself mourn on the anniversary because it’s all that baby had. No due date or birthday, not even a clear date of conception. Just one day, I let that tiny life have, every year, to remember what never was, but what could’ve been.
Jennie, your voice is our voice.
Oh Jennie and David, life is too cruel. There will be a baby in your arms one day and it’s going to be worth the wait for it will be the most precious and wanted and loved xxxxx
Oh Jennie every word of this is so heartfelt, and yes this subject is such a taboo. I do hope and wish that your family get some joy soon, you have all been through so much as a family xx
oh my heart truly goes out to you, for until someone has been through the loss, it is so hard to understand.
I will never forget the life that was formed and then lost to me, but carry that little one in my heart always.
Here is a poem I think says so much, sending love & hugs your way x
Little Snowdrop
The world may never notice If a Snowdrop doesn’t bloom,
Or even pause to wonder If the petals fall too soon.
But every life that ever forms, Or ever comes to be,
Touches the world in some small way For all eternity.
The little one we long for Was swiftly here and gone.
But the love that was then planted Is a light that still shines on.
And though our arms are empty, Our hearts know what to do.
Every beating of our hearts Says that we love you.
Sending you much love Jennie. At our recent exhibition events in Penzance, there were several stories of miscarriage shared by mums who were there, and it was incredibly powerful and cathartic – because, as you say, it simply isn’t talked about enough. You might appreciate Helen’s story: http://www.storyofmum.com/content/my-mum-story-helen-dob-2068. Your poem is beautiful.
Oh Jennie. I am so so sorry. xxxxx
Thank you for sharing this. I think you’ve nailed it. And so sorry about your loss.
I’m so sorry Jennie. I too have experienced 5 misscarriages, in a silent world that noone knows or understands iunless they have experienced the same. It took a lot to forgive my body too, but it is noone’s fault. Much love H x
such a beautifully written post Jennie. You are an inspiration to so many and I’m truly sorry you have lost another baby. Huge love and respect to you xx
I am devastated for you Jennie, I am so so sorry for all you have to go through. I have never stopped thinking about you and Matilda Mae and I agree that any loss should be talked about and openly mourned. Thinking of you always x
Beautifully written Jennie, I am so sorry, I am reading all out of order this evening and my heart is breaking for you.
Life is terribly cruel, sending love.
Only just seen this. I have no eloquent word that haven’t been said already by the many people that want to reach out and take a bit of the hurt. . . If only we could all shoulder a little of it each for you . . .
I had two thoughts as i read this post. One was plain and simple: that this is so f**king shit. And then the other was that on some level, maybe this little being wanted to be with Tilda. I am very sorry you have to go through this xx
so sorry x
Jennie you are amazing how you put your feelings and thoughts into such eloquent words. When I’ve tried to write about my own miscarriage it usually contains alot if anger. Mine was 3 years ago and I still think of how they would be now. Your right. We don’t share the grief and we need to more. X
Jennie what a moving post and so beautifully written. I know this pain that you speak of, although obviously not the pain of losing Tilda, I have miscarried twice and I still think of my babies now yet I can’t speak of them to anyone. It should be talked about more. I am so sorry for your loss yet again xxx
You describe the pain of loss perfectly and so very beautifully. Sending cyber hugs and commiserations. Don’t lose heart. From another statistic. xx
You are so right, and I’m so, so sorry this is happening to you. Miscarriage does need to be talked about and acknowledged, along with any other baby loss. I do talk about it when I can because it helps, although I don’t always go into a lot of detail. It does depend on who I am talking to, whether a friend or colleague. I think it is so important to speak about it. Too many times people feel they can’t. My husband has moved on so we don’t talk about it, but I still wonder about what could have been and feel the need to talk about it.
Nearly 4 years ago I lost my first baby just before our twelve week scan. I wasn’t prepared for it at all (who is?). Suddenly in the space of a phone call to the NHS when I started cramping and bleeding I had gone from happily expecting a baby to being completely devastated. I miscarried the next day and I just remember the utter grief at the scan at the time when I was told there was nothing there anymore. That pain can and does still hit very hard now at times. For ages I kept thinking that if we had made it to the scan which had been scheduled two days after the miscarriage, we would have been ok. Of course that wouldn’t have been true, but it took me a long time to accept that. I wished also that there was information available about the practicalities of miscarriage too and what to expect at the time. The pain caused by lack of that knowledge is also with me.
The support I did receive from those who did take care of me afterwards at the hospital, and my GP who took the time to explain what was happening to my body afterwards was excellent though. The lovely lady vicar as well who arranged a memorial service was wonderful. I needed something to mark this little one’s existence and she sorted all the paperwork and arrangements, although it had been a few weeks after the miscarriage when I contacted her. I hadn’t been brave enough before and even on the day of the service I wasn’t sure I could go through with it.
We were lucky enough to have confirmation of our second pregnancy a few weeks after the miscarriage, and we now have a gorgeous little girl. But I was on complete tenterhooks the whole pregnancy and couldn’t really enjoy it. I just wanted it over and to have her here with me. I relaxed for ten minutes after each scan but then would start worrying again. She is now a very cheeky, happy nearly 3 year old and I am so grateful to have her. There is a part of me still that wishes we could have had both, although that is never going to be possible. But I wanted that baby so much too, why can’t it be possible?! It should be, for everyone who wants a precious baby who they have lost. The pain still can be raw at times, and I don’t think that you will ever forget since every baby, whether with us here or not, is truly yours.
Jennie, I am so sorry you are having to go through this as well as losing your beautiful Matilda. Thank you too for sharing this with us and creating a space where loss can be talked about. What you are doing in Matilda’s name and now at this time is amazing. I really am praying that you and David will get your rainbow baby, and soon. Sending you lots of love. X
Jennie, my heart is breaking for you all over again. I am so, so sorry xx
I am so sorry for your loss. I have lost 5 babies so I know the pain unfortunately well.
Tender Wishes
Valerie
I’m so sorry, I have been so out of touch I didn’t realise have been going through all this. I hope you are okay. I know you’re probably not. I’m thinking of you. Ignore my thoughtless DM on Twitter.
A beautifully honest poem. Thank you for sharing and it’s sh*tty that you/I/we’ve endured this heartache.
I’ve recently (last Saturday) had my 3rd miscarriage. I’ll spare you the gory details but I had a missed miscarriage, opted for the D&C (or whatever it’s called now) only for nature to take it’s course beforehand.
I am not naturally inclined to speak about ANYTHING that makes me sad but surprised myself when I saw my school-gate mum chum and blurted out what happened. It was a relief as well as a comfort. I still don’t speak about it much as I’m not really sure what to say. I don’t want to re-live the horror of the pain, the scooping off the the floor, the panic and fear I felt, the flushing, the guilt, the sorrow, anger, the hate, the ‘why me?’
What do I say and who do I say it to..?
I guess I’ve said it here.
Thank you and heal well ladies, we’ll be ok given time.
x
As I read your poem, my eyes filled with tears. I could feel your pain and your longing — a pain that is all too familiar to me. I lost two babies to miscarriage. I know the emotional turmoil, the feeling of being alone, the hurt, the anger, the fear and the sadness. You’re absolutely right that women need to talk about their losses! Those who haven’t suffered the loss of a baby often have no idea how much you hurt afterwards. Definitely lean on others for comfort and support, take all the time you need to grieve your loss and never be afraid to cry. And please know that you are not alone. So many women have been where you are and understand.
My deepest sympathy to you.
Sincerely,
Deanna Kahler
Author, “From Pain to Parenthood”
I have bookmarked this page and also saved your words in a folder on my phone.
You say everything that is coursing through my brain, so eloquently.
From one statistic to another, you are in my thoughts.
I hope you find your rainbow soon xx
I’m so sorry for your loss Jennie, your double loss now. My heart breaks for you. You won at the MADS tonight and I’m thrilled for you and Matilda Mae- no one deserves it more, for your writing, your honesty and your inspiration. God bless xxx
No words are enough and sorry seems inadequate. I experienced an early miscarriage the year before I finally got pregnant with Ava. The pain is horrendous. I am sorry that you have had to endure more loss and pain, there is no justice xx
Oh Jennie, I am so terribly sorry. I know when I mentioned my miscarriages, the floodgates opened: people who wanted to share, to let you know that you aren’t alone. I want to do the same thing for you and yet I know how much greater you will feel this loss. I wish I could take that pain away for you. Thinking of you as always.
Sending you some love & some strength. You write so beautifully. x
I’m so sorry Jennie 🙁 I had a miscarriage almost 5 years ago and still feel sad about it now, despite having had 2 children after. It’s a horrible thing to go through and you have alreasy been through so much. Lovely words xx
Thank you Jennie for such beautiful poem from the heart. You are a truly inspiring lady & family. Thank you for sharing your pain which I know will help you begin to heal & help other going through similar situations/sufferings. Your poem really touched me as 9 days ago we found out we’d lost our little one at 11wks (but was measured at 7.5 wks) at the dreaded scan which showed no flicker. Thank you to all the touching & again inspiring & empathic comments from all your follows here. They’ve really helped me through this time of grieving. With love to you, your family & ickle rainbow
I read this the first time and felt so sad for you. Now I read it and I am heartbroken for myself. I am another statistic now. I am one of the people I used to read about.
Thank you for saying what I cannot xxx
Beautiful poem which sums up exactly how I felt. It wasn’t until I spoke about my own miscarriage that so many others I know told me about their own.