Stage 5

A week or two ago, someone mentioned to me that like all other significant losses in life (divorce, terminal illness, death of a loved one, etc.), the emotions surrounding miscarriage often seem to follow the five stages of grief; I was thinking about this today and decided to go through the stages and see if and how they applied to me:


Stage 1: Denial

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"It's not happening...this can't be happening. It's going to be OK. It'll be fine." That's what I told myself when I first started spotting. I googled like crazy to find examples of women who had spotted bright red without losing their babies. I ignored all of the negative results and just focused on the (far fewer) positive ones. It would be fine - really, it would. It had to be.

But I knew deep down, with a quiet but definite certainty that it wouldn't. I knew that was it. That maybe it did turn out OK for some people, but it was not going to be that way for me. But I still tried to deny it. How can you not?

Stage 2: Anger

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One of the hardest things to deal with about miscarriage is that it's not fair - not by a long shot. Over and over, you ask yourself, "Why me?" What makes it worse is the seeming arbitrariness of it. We wanted our baby. We wanted it so very much. We planned for it, prepared, did everything we could. I stopped drinking caffeine and alcohol and started taking prenatal vitamins well before we even started trying. We did everything right. And then we lost our baby.

Then there are the women who become pregnant on accident, who never even really wanted a child, who smoke and drink and even take drugs throughout their pregnancies and yet somehow their babies stick. Where is the fairness in that? Why do they get to keep their babies and we didn't? Yes, I was angry - at the world, at other people, at life.


Stage 3: Bargaining

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When the spotting started, when the heavier bleeding started, even when it was nearing the end and was far too late for change, I begged. "Please make it stop. Please - make it stop and make everything turn out OK. I will do anything to keep this baby - please make it stop."

Of course, it didn't stop, and I knew it wouldn't. But you can't help but beg and plead and try to bargain, even if you know it won't do any good. What else can you do?


Stage 4: Depression

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One of the most difficult parts of miscarrying is that not only do you have to deal with the inherent sadness that comes with your loss, but also the massive hormonal swings that take place as the placenta stops pumping hormones into your system. It's basically the same as the baby blues that most women experience after giving birth, only without a baby to show for it.

Those two things combined make the grief overwhelming; for about a week and a half, I didn't want to do anything. Literally. All I wanted to do was sleep or stare out the window at nothing. I didn't want to get up in the morning, didn't want to go to work, didn't want to cook or eat. All I wanted to do was huddle down inside myself and cry occasionally.


Stage 5: Acceptance

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"It's going to be OK."

I can finally say this and believe it. The last two weeks have been pretty dark, but for the past couple of days, it's gotten better. Just a little, but it's steady - a bit more every day. I've finally stopped crying randomly, I can laugh and smile again without struggling, and life feels more positive. It feels good to be able to begin to move forward - not to forget (never to forget) - but to continue on with life and our hopes and plans. Today was a good day, the first in a while...and I'm grateful for that, and for where I am now.

P.S. Mr. Bibliosaur and I are going on a 2-week vacation starting April 2, and I probably won't have a chance to post until we get back - so Happy Easter, readers and Pregosaurs!