Because of the “12-week rule,” the heartache of miscarriage is not widely discussed

It is estimated that around 285 miscarriages occur every day in Australia, or one every five minutes, affecting more than 100,000 couples a year.

Dr Jade Bilardi, a senior research fellow at Monash University and co-founder of Miscarriage Australia, says that medically, miscarriage (the loss of a baby before 20 weeks of pregnancy) is a common complication of pregnancy that is usually easy to manage on a physical level. .

“But people often don’t realize how much it can affect those who are affected on an emotional level,” she says. “Because we have this unwritten social rule of not revealing pregnancies until 12 weeks, when it’s considered ‘safe’ to tell others, people often don’t have that kind of support around them when they miscarry, which makes them feel even more alone. and isolate their grief and loss.

Also, miscarriage is often not recognized as a loss because it is “invisible”, there is no tangible person to grieve for, and no rites and rituals to commemorate the loss.

Bilardi says this can lead family, friends and health care professionals to expect that women should live quickly after a miscarriage. “However, we know that women’s levels of grief and bereavement are not related to how many weeks pregnant they are; a miscarriage can be a cause of great loss,” she says. “It’s important for a woman to receive positive emotional support from her partner, family and friends during this period, which can help ease the loss.

Bilardi says some may find it helpful to talk to a psychologist or counselor, or join an online support group where women can talk about their miscarriage experiences.

Here, three women share their stories of pregnancy loss and how they recovered.

“I’ve come to terms with the fact that I won’t have another child”

For Katie Parker, 42, the loss of her third child was an ongoing grieving process.

“When I had bleeding during my third pregnancy at 12 weeks, doctors confirmed a miscarriage when they couldn’t find a heartbeat. I decided to let the miscarriage happen naturally rather than surgically, but I was hoping that the medical staff would at least give me a brochure about support services for miscarriage grief, and they didn’t.

Three days later I was at Seven Sisters. [women-only wellbeing] Festival in Melbourne when my body started shedding pregnancy tissue without any complications.

Being surrounded by like-minded women who care about holistic health, including the nurturing environment that the festival created, made it an even more empowering experience.

On the night of my miscarriage, a long walk on the beach at sunset
having a close friend was comforting because she gave me space to express and process my experiences.

Loading

After returning home, working as a postpartum doula while completing my master’s degree in palliative care, I knew that my healing journey required hands-on and emotional care.

So I started supporting myself with lots of rest, nutritious meals, self-compassion, and journaling. Friends and family still had room to grieve, talk and cry.

I shared my story on a podcast not long after my miscarriage – I was still quite vulnerable and I listen to it every year as I find it very healing and helps me integrate my loss.

Even though it’s been three years, I still grieve what my life could have been. We always wanted to be a family of five and even bought the house with that in mind.

Every anniversary, I go back to the beach where I had my miscarriage to spend time alone, which helps me reflect on where I’m still raw and in need of healing.

I have now accepted the fact that I will not have another child. I feel like a fourth pregnancy at 42 will be too much for my body. So, I’m glad to know that now we have more freedom with two kids and can do what we like.

“I was lucky to be able to help someone else”

Lucy Banks, 33, recovered from a miscarriage by donating her eggs.

“I was devastated in 2009 when I lost my first child at 12 weeks after a routine scan showed no heartbeat. I was 19 at the time, and what made it worse was that I sat in the waiting room alone for seven hours with no support, hoping that the dilation and curette would remove the pregnancy tissue. When I asked the nurse when I would need to operate, she said the doctor was busy with babies who were actually alive. At such a sensitive time, her answer was very difficult for me.

A friend gave me the number of SANDS, a non-profit service for bereaved parents after pregnancy loss, and I spoke to a counselor on the phone several times. She listened to me vent my sadness and that was very helpful in my grieving process.

Although I didn’t tell anyone at work that I was pregnant, I had to have a difficult conversation with my manager about the loss because I wanted a few days off. It just so happened that a colleague of mine had a stillbirth 20 years ago and took a day off every year on her child’s birthday. So my employers knew how such a loss affects women and they were supportive in my case as well.

in 2013 and in 2015 I gave birth to two boys. I felt nervous about both pregnancies. I never expected either of them to be born and every routine scan was nerve wracking. I am grateful that I now have two healthy children.

Around this time, I had a family member who needed an egg donor. I did a lot of research and once I wrapped my head around the idea, I offered my eggs. But she was not comfortable having my genetic child.

Still ready to donate, I found a couple through Egg Donors Australia who had also experienced the loss of a child and were struggling to get pregnant again. They have two children and we keep in touch through social media. I feel blessed to have been able to help someone else start a family after having my own babies and experiencing loss for the first time.

“I felt this heavy cloud of trauma starting to lift”

Pam Foster, 38, suffered two miscarriages and a stillbirth, but gave birth to two children.

“I had two miscarriages in a row, one in 2015. and one in 2016 after 10 and 12 weeks respectively. After the first miscarriage, it was difficult to return to work, even to get out of bed. Also, none of my friends knew I was pregnant, so I couldn’t talk openly about my loss, which I had to do.

However, my GP monitored my mental health and wellbeing and referred me
to the SAND. The second time was a little easier emotionally, but still painful. But much earlier I opened up to my friends about my experiences.

Then, in 2017, my daughter Hope was stillborn at 20 weeks. After I gave birth to her, my husband and I held her for hours, and even though I could physically grieve her loss, I still struggled with the pain.

I even blamed myself – that something was wrong with my body. When talk therapy didn’t provide relief, I masked my emotions with excessive exercise and overtime, which led to the point where I wanted to end my life.

Loading

That started to change in 2018 when I attended a holistic retreat in Bali. I was introduced to healing modalities such as sound healing, reiki, shamanic healing and a daily practice of meditation and yoga.

Gradually I began to heal and then I felt this heavy cloud of trauma that I was carrying begin to lift.

I was also better at talking about my feelings and asking for support, including feeling connected to Hope.

Finally, in 2020 and 2022, my husband and I were able to welcome two babies, Benji and Summer, into our lives. Every year on June 2 we still celebrate Hope’s birthday and keep her memory alive with our siblings.

My advice to others is to have the courage to talk about how you feel, know that you are not alone in your grief, and take time to nurture and heal yourself after a miscarriage. It’s important to surround yourself with people who can support you, including health professionals who can help you find your inner balance again.

Rescue line: 13 11 14.
SAND: 1300 308 307.

Get the most out of your health, relationships, fitness and nutrition with us Live Well Newsletter. Get it in your inbox every Monday.