There are many difficult days for miscarriage survivors.
I’m sure most of you (even if you’ve never lost a baby) would assume the due date might be hard. And it is. Most certainly.
But there are also other days that are difficult. I hope this list will help you understand the pain of some of the people around you.
Difficult Days for Miscarriage Survivors:
1. The Due Date.
I don’t really even know how to put into words how painful this day can be. It’s not that the days leading up to the due date aren’t hard, because they are. But there is something especially painful about knowing that today is the day you should be bringing your little one into the world. Today is the day you should be meeting him or her for the first time, feeling his or her hand wrapping around your finger, and looking into his or her beautiful eyes. Instead, your belly is flat, obvious evidence that you are not bringing a baby into the world anymore.
2. The Anniversary of Loss.
This is the day you often re-live the miscarriage. You can still picture what your baby looked like when you lost him. You can still remember the pain and the tears. The words of your doctor and the look in his eyes when he couldn’t find a heartbeat are still etched into your brain.
3. Mother’s Day.
I wrote a post about Mother’s Day a few months ago that explains this one in detail. Please check it out if you want to know how to love a woman who wants a baby but doesn’t have one.
4. October 15, National Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Day.
I didn’t even know this date existed until a few weeks after our first miscarriage. I actually miscarried on October 15 the first time, so for me this date holds double-value. Every year, miscarriage survivors around the world light candles in honor of the babies they have lost. For me (probably because there are now so many due dates and loss dates), October 15 is the date I give to my babies every single year. It’s the day I recognize each of their lives and think about what could have been.
5. The Day You Find Out You’re Pregnant Again.
Pregnancy after miscarriage is drastically different than pregnancy before miscarriage. Every time I found out I was pregnant after a miscarriage, I fell apart. I was paralyzed by fear and often re-lived the feelings I experienced with the miscarriages.
6. The Day (or often days) You Hear about the Pregnancies of Others.
I wrote a post about this one too. It’s not that miscarriage survivors aren’t happy for those around them with healthy pregnancies. We are. And we would never wish a miscarriage on anyone. It’s simply that…your gain highlights our loss. We wish we too could be celebrating a happy pregnancy instead of grieving a life we never got to meet.
7. Other Holidays that Might Remind Us of Our Loss.
I know this is vague and will vary from person to person, but if you know someone who lost a baby around the time of a certain holiday, just be aware that this holiday might now be more difficult than it used to be. For instance, my most recent loss was a couple of days before Thanksgiving. Thanksgiving, now, is kind of difficult for me.
Let’s Talk: What other days are especially difficult for you? Or…if you’ve never lost a baby, which one of these days surprised you?
*If you’d like to read more about how I’ve worked through my miscarriages (with my faith intact) or if you find yourself asking God questions like, “Where are you in this?” I’d love for you to check out my Bible study and devotional, Unbeaten.
It can be read alone or with a group and goes into a lot more detail about how you too can be unbeaten, even when it feels impossible at the moment.
*Though I originally wrote this post a few years back, it still rings just as true today.
I originally wrote this post near the due date of our fourth loss. Here is a letter I wrote to baby Jadon.
Tomorrow is the day you should be in my arms. Tomorrow is the day you should be meeting your two older brothers for the very first time. And tomorrow is the day I should be rejoicing in your arrival. Instead, my arms long for you. I’m so sorry my body wasn’t able to carry you longer. I’m sorry I wasn’t able to give you whatever it was you needed for life. Most of all, I’m sorry I never got to tell you how much I love you. There are times I think people assume I should be over it by now. That because I’ve had four miscarriages, it shouldn’t be as hard this time. But it is. You are my child. My baby. My life. I love you, Jadon. And that will never change. I will never be completely “over it.” Not until that day when my family is together in heaven. All six of my kids. Give your brothers and sisters a hug for me.