According to the Mayo Clinic, about 10 to 20 percent of known pregnancies end in miscarriage. And according to the World Health Organization, there are around 211 million pregnancies in a year. This results in 21 million to 42 million miscarriages every year. That is a staggering number and one I wish I knew more about before we ever got pregnant in the first place. After we struggled for a couple of years to get pregnant with our first baby, our second pregnancy seemed to come quickly when our son was 16 months old. We were excited, but also terrified of another baby. However we already had plans to buy a bigger car, get new baby stuff, picked out names, and prepped in every way possible because absolutely nothing could go wrong during a pregnancy, right? Well, that’s what I thought at the time anyways.
About 20 minutes before our midwife appointment at 11 weeks pregnant, my wife spotted some bleeding. When we got to the midwife, she hooked up the Doppler and was unable to find a heart beat. This led us to drive through Austin traffic for a rush appointment at the doctor’s office for an ultrasound. Sitting in a car, in traffic, anticipating what you already know but holding on to a little bit of hope like maybe her machine wasn’t working properly, led to a very silent and anxious car ride.
Arriving at the doctor’s office, they quickly put us in a room to perform the ultrasound. Shortly after, our fears were confirmed and the baby had passed around 9 weeks. The doctor comes in and says some comforting words but the reality of the situation overshadows everything he is saying. I am very grateful that we didn’t have our son with us as it gave my wife and I time to be with each other and comfort each other.
Being the man in this situation I feel it is much less impacting than it is for the woman. It’s sad, absolutely, but I had much less of a connection with the baby than she did. So when we finally got back to our house, I stepped outside and called up a friend to share the news. After about 10 minutes of sharing our story and expressing my feelings, my friend managed to get a laugh out of me. My wife overheard me laughing on the phone and when I stepped back inside she wanted nothing to do with me.
“How can you be laughing?”
I couldn’t explain it. I had this feeling in my gut of how insensitive I just was, I knew I couldn’t take it back, and I knew that what I just did hurt my wife beyond anything I had ever done to her before. I could apologize but that action will be burned in my memory forever. We quickly learned that we grieved differently, and that can very quickly cause tension in a marriage if it’s not recognized.
Shortly after, I learned that once you have a miscarriage, the baby still has to come out. I’m not entirely sure what I thought happened or if it just never crossed my mind but I don’t think I realized what the next steps were after a miscarriage. It’s hard to say, but we were very fortunate that the baby came on its own without any extra assistance. It’s crazy to me that this all happened so quickly and the next day I’m expected to show up to work as if nothing had happened. Most companies give time off if you have a baby but for whatever reason if you have a miscarriage, they don’t acknowledge it.
I recall laying in our bed, still processing the news we received from the doctor and my wife in the bathroom basically giving birth to an 11 week old baby. No doctors, no meds, just a dimly light bathroom and some paper towels. Some time later the baby was out and flushed down the toilet. No family and no friends offering us support.
There was this stigma that nobody wanted to openly talk about miscarriages. We felt people didn’t want to hear about it and we really didn’t want to talk about it. How do you go to your family and friends that you just told that you were having another baby and then tell them the baby didn’t make it? It’s not a fun conversation. Also, because it can be pretty common, it almost seems like we shouldn’t care that this happened. It happens to so many women of reproductive age, why should it matter? But it did matter, that was our baby.
There’s something about losing a baby that changes you. I did everything I could to block out that memory but it lingers in the back of my mind and randomly pops its head out to remind me of the “could have been”. After we finally opened up to family, they offered words of encouragement and people say what they think will make you feel better but it all washes over you and only the most shocking of responses stick around.
I wasn’t really there for my wife after this all happened. I think I was at a loss myself and living in uncharted territory, at least that’s what I thought. Thinking back, there are a million different ways I could have handled the situation and if you are going through something similar, I’m hoping this will help you.
- Take some time off to be with your wife. This can be an extremely emotional time, and both of you could use it.
- Although this likely won’t have the same impact on you that it has on her, stay by her side. Ask her difficult questions, like how she is processing all of it and then be prepared for a real answer. And just listen, don’t try to solve anything, just be there for her.
- Pray. Admittedly, I did not pray nearly enough with her, for her, or for us.
- Share. Even if you don’t think that this didn’t have any emotional impact on you, I encourage you to open up because it may be emotionally impacting someone close to you or give you an opportunity to share the gospel with others.
- Find something memorable that you and your wife can use to reflect on. For us, we find incredible peace in the song “It is Well” and we both still cry every time hear it. In fact, just the other day we were watching a movie and they didn’t even sing the song but they played the tune on their guitars and we both started tearing up.
- This is a bonus, but one of my friends owns his own business where they specialize in using cremains (human ashes) inside of customized hand made glasswork. I bought one for my wife with a keychain that had an engraving. We didn’t have cremains but the glass is beautiful and we still have it hanging on our porch. We have also bought a couple for friends that have had a similar experience. Check it out at Spiritpieces.com. I promise I don’t get any kickbacks from this link.