Bitterness And Avoidance: My Life After Miscarriage (M Word Part IV)

I am so, so bitter.  So bitter, in fact, that I cannot bring myself to share in the pregnancy joy of others.  I don’t want to hear about it, I don’t want to know about it, I want to pretend their pregnancies don’t exist.  I feel awful for admitting that out loud, but each time my friend brings her pregnancy up to me, it feels like any progress I’ve done to stich my heart back up is unraveled.  I know two pregnant women, and I had to block them from my FB newsfeed so I don’t have to read their updates and see their pictures. 

How long is miscarriage grief supposed to last?  When will I be able to see baby bumps and not feel a lump in my throat the size of an orange?   When will I walk past the baby section of a store and no longer fight back tears?  When will I see a young couple with a baby and no longer imagine what my family would have looked like?  When will I see a man holding a baby and not flash to the image of what it would have looked like with my ex holding our baby?

I do my best to compartmentalize my life so I can get through each day.  I spend one hour a week talking about my loss in therapy, and then the rest of the week I shove the pain into a box, only to be reopened at the following session.   While I think about my ex all the time, it’s somehow easy for me not to think about my miscarriage until I am triggered.  I don’t know why that is.  Perhaps it is because there is no bringing my baby back, but my ex is still walking around living his life.  Details on his life are just a social media click away.

I would have been four months pregnant on Saturday.  I told someone how sad that made me, and they said, “don’t be sad about that.  You just need to live your life and move forward.”  If healing my heart and moving forward was that easy, I would.  Believe me, I don’t like feeling this way.  I don’t like reaching milestones that will never be realized because the baby died and feel an ache reverberate through my body.  I have to choose my words carefully these days, because it’s like I can’t even be sad anymore.  People either say, “oh, don’t be sad, just move on,” or they say, “Oh, well, maybe you should go to counseling/talk about that in counseling.” No one wants to hear about what I’ve been through.   

Because no one wants to talk about dead babies and lost loves.

So, So bitter.  I just want to fast-forward to a time when this no longer breaks my heart over and over again.  I need something, anything, to go right. 

Fuck.

Until next time ~ Bitter B

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7 thoughts on “Bitterness And Avoidance: My Life After Miscarriage (M Word Part IV)

  1. Fantyse says:

    I’ve had two miscarriages, one at 18 weeks and one at 19 weeks. The ex of my first child which happened 10 years ago has moved on with his life and even has a child. Still hurts even though I don’t have feelings for him, but just to see him have something I don’t have hurts.

    I had my last miscarriage two years ago, and I am still with my partner. While I was pregnant, he found out the he was the father of a child whom he had in the relationship right before him and I. He got the official paternity test right after I miscarried, with a child who had the same name I named my deceased baby boy. Its almost like mine never existed.

    I’ve experienced blow after blow, trigger after trigger. I am actually feeling a little better but the grief is still there. Trying to start to accept the fact that it may never happen for me now, so if it doesn’t, it will lessen my disappointment. Its hard. I understand you.

    I deleted my whole facebook account. I couldn’t deal with how happy people was with their families online. Even my old ex before this relationship has had two kids since we broke up. I have lost friends. I even lost a friend who was due the same week I was two years ago, but she got mad because I couldn’t talk to her right after my loss. I told her I needed time but she didn’t understand.

    I just want you to know I understand what you are going through. I am there myself. You are not alone. I even deleted my articles on my blog on here because I felt like maybe I was being a Debbie downer, like you say, you sometimes feel like no one wants to here it, especially for me. I feel like people are thinking “its been two years, get over it already”. I’ve accepted that I will not be able to “get over it”, but I am just trying to learn to live with. Everyone has a story, some major thing in their life that changes and shapes them and I think this is mine. -Fant

  2. B says:

    Dear Fant,

    Thank you so much for opening up and sharing your story with me. I am so sorry to hear of both your losses. I can’t imagine getting to that point in two pregnancies and then losing the babies. The pain you feel must be immense. I hope your partner is at least supportive. Mine broke up with me a week after I lost the baby.

    Miscarriage is a different kind of loss, one that no one can understand unless it happens to them. It’s so, so hard to live with the knowledge that I was going to be a mommy, and now it’s all gone. I’m 31 years old and single. I’m scared that it will never happen for me, or that it will happen again. Like you, I also am trying to come to terms with the fact that I might not get another chance.

    I wouldn’t wish this on anybody. I only wish that people would understand how devastating this is, and that they need to be kinder and gentler. I am so sorry to hear you lost a friendship over this. I know what you mean about needing more time. I don’t know how much time I will need, but I know it will be a while.

    I told myself that I would share my pain with on this blog just in case it made someone else feel like they are not alone. I hope it helped you a little, as your comment has helped me. Never hesitate to be a Debbie Downer if it helps you process and grieve.

    Take care, and feel free to write anytime.

    -B ❤

    • Fantyse says:

      Thanks for responding and yes, hearing you open up about your experiences and grief has made me feel some comfort. I know that I am not alone and that other young woman are facing the same struggle, even if I don’t get to see them in my everyday life. Oh yeah partner has been supportive but not too long after my loss I realize I was really alone. He moved on way faster than I did I feel. I’m afraid to keep bringing it up. Sometimes when I do, he just gets quiet and don’t say much of anything. So I just stopped talking about it. I do have someone, but I often still feel alone in my grief. Its so crazy how it changes you as a person. I feel like a alien in comparison to people my age. I feel like they are so petty its ridiculous.

      I am 28 years old and even though it may seem like I have time to try again, I am scared out of my mind. Lossing children is more traumatic than people think. People always ask me when am I going to try again. I’m thinking, when “God” sneaks it in there because I’m too scared to try anything. I feel like if I tried again, I would be asking for it something bad to happen.

      My sister is 30 years old, she had a tubal pregnancy and it ruptured. She only has one tube now and that one tube doesn’t look that good because she had scar tissue in there. Chances of her getting pregnant without any expensive fertility help is slim. I always tell her, who know’s if she is going to find Mr. Right and have that family she always wanted. But maybe if she focus on herself, and save some money, she can afford to pay for her own fertility drugs or precedures in the future when she is ready for a her own family. Lucky us woman, we don’t have to wait on men anymore. But I still pray you and my sister will find that great guy you could have a family with. Thanks B -Fant

  3. I empathize with you so very much. I always fight back tears when reading your posts. I have so many of the same questions of when we’ll feel like our old selves. Some days are better than others. Some days I do not even want to bother doing anything because EVERYTHING is somehow connected to it all. Last week I cried for an embarrassingly long time because I was relaxed, listening to Pandora, when an add for Old Navy’s baby sale came on. I wish I knew what to say, but I do not think that there is anything that anyone can say. It’s up to us, and I hate that. I hope more than anything that that dreaded M word lets alone.
    AND do not feel bad about not wanting to hear about a friend’s pregnancy – it’s normal, and I am the same way. My best friend where I live now found out she was pregnant the same day I did. I do not want to know about her pregnancy, because I should be at the exact same spot. My friend back home, who suffers from PCOS and has several other factors against her, had been trying to get pregnant for around 5 years. She told me she was pregnant three days before I miscarried. She actually thought she was miscarrying at the time, her HCG levels were so low. But I was the one who miscarried, and she is having a healthy pregnancy with completely normal HCG levels now. I try to justify my miscarriage as a sacrifice so that she could be the one to have the baby that she truly deserves.
    Blah. I’m blabbering on. I apologize that I have been behind in catching up with reading your posts! I am ALWAYS here if you need to talk.

    • B says:

      I am always here for you, too. Unfortunately we have shared an experience so devastating that no one ever talks about. I wish miscarriage wasn’t such a taboo subject, because maybe then more people would be sympathetic. I just told my friend at work that I can’t hear about baby stuff anymore, and she understands. Ugh. 😦

  4. Elsa Ann says:

    Thank you for writing this. I am currently going through what they have given the medical name of a missed abortion. I am waiting for my shred of hope to pass out of me. They say the process can take weeks for it to happen naturally. I am sick, I am bitter I am devastated. This is my second loss, first was preterm labor far enough along to deliver but not far along enough for her to survive. Now a miscarriage. I feel like I have lost hope. I have longed for a family, for a child. It took a long time to come to terms with my first loss now I am dealing with another. I hate to see other woman pregnant and happy. I hate to see their happiness and their innocence. Hate is a strong word but that is how I feel. My heart aches and I just cannot feel happiness for others that are going through a happy healthy pregnancy, they may or may not be touched with what has happened to us and they probably shouldn’t. I don’t want to be this bitter woman. A nurse told me she went through 6 losses and she knows the pain and the feeling of wanting to give up. As I write this I am in pain waiting for my body to realize it needs to let go of the pregnancy and emotionally I am broken. I’m hoping my body will do what it needs to because I don’t want a d and c.

    Anyone out there have ways of coping? I don’t feel like a woman, I feel like a patient, like a medical case, like just another sad story. I just want my body back and my life back.

    • B says:

      I’m sorry for all the pain and hurt you are going through. I know how you feel. It’s been ten months for me, but I still experience pain and sadness over my loss. There really are no words to make it better. This is the kind of pain you learn to deal with, because you never really get over it. In time, it becomes less acute, but it’s always lingering in the back of your mind. The insensitive things people say don’t help, either. The way I coped was to write a lot, as I have about five or six blogs about my miscarriage. I also just gave myself time and patience. I listened to how I felt each day and acted accordingly. If I wanted to be alone, I was alone. If I wanted to be around others, I would spend time with family and friends. Do what feels right for you. I also went to counseling, which was helpful, and ended up going on antidepressants, which has also helped me. Just be gentle with yourself as you move through the grieving process, and know you are not alone. 1 in 4 pregnancies end in miscarriage, and that’s not something that is talked about. But the more people I shared my story with, the more I heard “I’ve had a miscarriage, too,” or “my mother/sister/bestfriend/etc went through a miscarriage.” Take care of yourself. I hope things have gotten a little better for you since you wrote this post. ❤

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