TW: Miscarriage, pregnancy loss.

I’ve spoken in the past about my experience with early miscarriage. It’s never a pleasant topic to talk about, but I strongly believe it needs to be talked about. That, and during that time, I found writing out my thoughts and feelings to be healing. Recently, the memories of that time have been resurfacing and it’s once more made me introspective and sad. Even though I didn’t plan for a pregnancy at the time (the pregnancy was unplanned, as a result of my then-birth control failing) and still not planning to be a parent right now, it was nonetheless shattering for me and my partner.

In light of writing about when I miscarried, I realise I never really wrote a post about some of the most common things said that, in my opinion, are not helpful or reassuring at all. If anything, it felt like rubbing salt in the wound as well-meaning as these tidbits of advice were. So, here I’ve listed just a few things that, in my opinion, you shouldn’t say.

“At least you know you can get pregnant.”

I know this is meant to be well-meaning, but it feels like another punch. Whether you know it or not, it can sound to that person that they should be grateful to conceive when there are other folks who can’t. You know when people say, “How do you think (X) feels?” in mental health? When a person, or people, are in a potentially worse situation than you, so you’re not allowed to feel as distressed or depressed as you do? It feels like that. Also, it’s not reassuring that yes, one may be able to get pregnant, but that doesn’t mean your body can keep the pregnancy.

“You can’t let this hold you back from trying again.”

It’s not even “Don’t let it hold you back” said in good faith, but “you can’t let it hold you back”, that gets me. Yes, it can and it does. And you have every right to feel that way. Whether you decide to get pregnant later, it happens by surprise, or you choose not to have children at all, it is incredibly personal. And when you’re grieving, you have every right to feel that grief and process it so you can move forward. It is a process that must be worked through. That can take longer for some than others. It may take the rest of your life. The pain of a miscarriage never really goes away. Yes, you might get to a point where you can talk about it without bursting into tears, but some people might not. Again, grief is a very personal thing and has no time limit.

“It’s just a clump of cells.”

For the countless who have experienced early miscarriage, you may have heard this from others or yourself. You may be wondering why you are so upset when the pregnancy didn’t even have a chance to develop beyond this point. Scientifically speaking, yes, it may be a clump of cells. But the instant, unbreakable bond between parent and child supersedes that. They were still yours. That was still your pregnancy. There’s the what ifs and the what could have been that you will think about, even if the pregnancy was unwanted. And however small they may have been, it is a loss nonetheless.

“Everything happens for a reason/It’s all part of God’s plan.”

Don’t even go there. Just don’t.

“Perhaps it’s a sign you’re not meant to be a parent.”

Again, don’t even go there. As we’ve all seen either in real life or on the news, there are people who can’t have children who would make the best parents. Then there are those who have many children who treat them terribly and don’t deserve them. Whether or not you can isn’t an indicator of if you will be a good parent or not. Sadly, there are countless children in need of a family that don’t have it. And there are people who would do anything to have a family but are not able to. I’ve witnessed the pain of this firsthand in an old family friend who suffered multiple miscarriages. The pain is unlike anything you can describe. So, imagine what things must be like for them and have some compassion.

• Image – Pixabay