Miscarriage Fears – Looking Back on Pregnancy (5 weeks)

I’m so glad I blogged Norton’s pregnancy like I did.  It’s a way of ensuring that I never, ever let time dull memories.  One of the big things that I coped with during that pregnancy was miscarriage fears.  I’d managed to conceive Norton one cycle after a loss, so I spent a lot of time terrified.  I preferred to think of it as “cautiously optimistic.”  I originally wrote this on July 14, 2009.

My state of mind can be, at best, be described as cautiously optimistic. At my worst, I’m in the early stages of grieving.

Miscarriage Fears - Looking Back on Pregnancy (5 weeks)I got my positive test on Sunday. It’s not like I’ve been able to stare at a ticker for weeks, knowing that it’s counting down the days (well, months, really) until I have a baby.

However, it wasn’t that long ago that I was staring at a ticker and excited over another pregnancy. It didn’t work out. I still blame my doctors. Every single one that treated me.

I have PCOS. After trying for months and not even getting a period, I got a referral to an Ob/Gyn who backed my GP’s PCOS diagnosis and put me on Metformin. My GPs (a husband and wife practice) didn’t think that I should continue with the Metformin once I got pregnant, and the gynecologist agreed.

I didn’t agree. I did research, because I’m a know-it-all geek who has to know a little bit about everything. I tend to approach a hobby with enough research to imply that I’m working on my dissertation. I found conflicting studies, some said to discontinue the Metformin, while others said to take it. The ones that said to stop didn’t say why. The ones that said to continue listed benefits for women with PCOS, such as reduced chances of miscarriage, reduced chances of gestational diabetes, etc.

They insisted. They’re doctors, so they should know best, right?

Yeah, well, I’ll never be that naive again. Two weeks after I stopped taking the Met, I wasn’t pregnant anymore. It was the most physically painful time of my life. And that’s not even touching on the emotional aspect. I spent five days in and out of doctors, labs, and the emergency room. My gynecologist’s partner (who was on call when everything started to go wrong) insisted that I start the Metformin back up, and increase my dose. For five days, they strung me along with false hope.

I’m terrified that this will end the same way.

But I remind myself that I’m going to continue taking the Metformin, which will reduce my odds of things… not working out again to be that of a normal, non-PCOS woman. I told my GP last time that I would not discontinue Metformin for the next time. He agreed with me. I’m not sure if he meant it, or if he was just humoring me because I was on the edge of hysterics.

Neither my husband or I are willing to get as excited this time as we did the last time. Not yet. We have to get past the fear first.

Ultimately, though, we did get past the miscarriage fears and settle into a fairly routine pregnancy.  Eventually, I got to the point where I could actually use the word.  (That did take a while, though, and it was long after the miscarriage fears subsided.)  Did you get pregnant after a loss?  How long did it take for you to get past miscarriage fears?

Miscarriage Loss – Keep It To Yourself?

I’ve had a miscarriage.  Quite frankly, miscarriage sucks.  That being said, miscarriage loss is something not really talked about outside of mommy bloggers who will bare their soul.  Sometimes it’s part of a healing process; other times it’s to help others realize that they aren’t alone in the pain from their miscarriage loss.

Gwyneth Paltrow recently shared her own miscarriage loss.  She shared that the miscarriage pain wasn’t just emotional: it nearly killed her.  A commenter wrote:

“Sorry for her loss, but I can’t think a single reason why we need to know this.”

Ugh.  Seriously?  I can think of several reasons.  It’s not crucial to anyone’s well-being to know that Paltrow suffered a miscarriage loss.  That being said, her willingness to share can help far more than it hurts.

Sharing her miscarriage loss can help others feel less alone.

Miscarriage Loss - Keep It To Yourself? (Motherhood Looms)

Image courtesy of FrameAngel / FreeDigitalPhotos.net 

Miscarriage is isolating.  It’s not something that many people understand unless they themselves have experienced it.  Sure, it’s not the same as losing a child who has walked and talked and breathed on her own… but it’s the loss of a baby that creates an emptiness of its own.  It’s solitary and lonely.  For women coping with miscarriage grief, knowing that they aren’t alone is helpful.

Talking About Miscarriage Can Destigmatize

Once upon a time, cancer was something not talked about.  A cancer diagnosis was a social death in the 1950’s.  With time and education, cancer hasn’t completely lost its stigma (particularly since some cancers are “the patient’s own fault” due to lifestyle choices such as smoking), but it’s better.  Talking about miscarriage can have the same impact.

Talking Can Heal

Anyone who says that miscarriages can be moved past and forgotten has clearly never experienced it.  Some people find that talking about their miscarriage grief and loss helps them cope with the pain.  For me, personally, it took months before I could even type the word “miscarriage,” let alone say it.  When I could finally type it instead of “the m word,” I was recovering.  When I was actually able to say the word instead of “it didn’t work out,” I was moving along even more.

For me, talking doesn’t make it better at all.  But I recognize that for someone who is still coping, knowing that she’s not alone can be absolutely helpful.  Maybe that’s what Ms. Paltrow was going for in sharing.

Either way, it’s a conversation worth having.

Have you experienced loss?  Did talking about it help you?