I’ve had friends (too many friends) have miscarriages. I was just a wreck for them. So sad, so devastated. I hate thinking about them being heartbroken. I’ve cried for them and their families and their babies.
But now that it’s happened to me, I have…no emotion. No crying, no sorrow. Just emptiness.
Everyone has been so friendly, looking at me with sadness and sympathy, and I just want to shut my eyes to it all. I don’t want any more of these looks. I don’t want to be the one everyone feels sorry for…again. I was going over my medical history with a pre-op nurse, and when I told her I’d had two previous c-sections, she asked me how old my children where. I replied, “My daughter is two,” and then said nothing else. She asked about my other child, so I told her about Maddie. She looked at me with a sad clown face and said, “It’s too much.”
And I know it’s too much. I know it is. I would say the same, if I were talking about someone else. But I don’t feel it. Maybe it’s because I won’t let myself. I don’t want to go down this path again. Maybe I’m keeping it at arm’s length, the poisonous bite of pain and pity.
Or maybe it’s because I can’t. My grief for Madeline is so huge and consuming…maybe too consuming…there’s nothing left. I want there to be something. There should be something…right? I hope I’m just in shock, but I’m afraid I’m broken inside. Afraid I can’t grieve anymore. Just…afraid.
Maya says:
I think the grief over Maddie is too large and consuming to let any other grief make a dent in it… does that make sense?
I think it’s about what we’ve been through in our lives. I think it would have been more soul crushing if Maddie was still here. This hurts, but fails in comparison to what you went through/ will forever go through.
I love you.
Jackie says:
Yes I think this is spot on. You know a grief that most of us don’t even want to think about, so when I had a miscarriage is was the worst thing to happen to me, and I grieved accordingly. Of course you are sad about it, but compared to loosing your beautiful Maddie, this is a drop in the bucket. And that’s Ok too.
Allow yourself to grieve (or “not grieve”) in whatever fashion you need to. There is no right or wrong here.
Annalisa says:
Agree with you, Jackie. A miscarriage, while pretty traumatic, just doesn’t compare to the loss of an actual child.
Feeling numb and not being able to outwardly grieve about something is just as much “grieving”. Not wanting people to look at you with pity is grieving, too.
It’s just not the “I am bawling all the time because I’m so sad” kind that people always seem to expect (besides, I am a bawling with sadness kind of person, but I prefer to do it when no one else is looking, and I hate it when people can tell I have been crying).
Jenn says:
I really think this goes back to never-ending debate about the “right” way to grieve.
You are not broken. Your grief for Maddie is just that, your grief for Maddie. I honestly don’t think you should compare your grief for her to your grief for the baby you just lost. You, yourself admitted that this pregnancy felt different than your other two. And it was.
You had 17 incredibly hard, incredibly wonderful, incredibly rewarding months with Madeline and it was not enough. This baby, you could only imagine gender, names, and experiences – it wasn’t enough.
My best friend had a miscarriage about 7 months before she became pregnant with her now 7 month old daughter, and the only feeling that she could emote when I went to visit her was empty. She felt empty. She said that having to tell everyone that there would be no baby, after having told everyone about the pregnancy had left her emotionally drained.
So I think that’s what’s happening to you (granted I am not an expert nor do I pretend to be), you’re just drained with grief for Maddie, with frustration over how unfair life is….not broken, just drained.
Katy says:
A friend of mine has an amazing blog. http://www.hisplannotmine.blogspot.com
He suffered several miscarriages and
lost one of her twins very late on in her pregnancy. Her faith helped get me through my miscarriage and the days to follow. You will have to go back to the beginning of her blog to read her whole story. I just think it helps to know we aren’t alone in all of this.
meg...ct says:
There are no rule on how you should feel. What you feel is valid. No matter what you feel. The way you grieve can not be compared with others or with how you grieve for Maddy. You will get through this…
Peace.
Betsy says:
I understand this. I am just recovering from my sixth miscarriage. And the first one, the first two, actually, destroyed me. After a while, I think you armor yourself against the grief.
jenni says:
Don’t give up hope. After six loses, I am snuggling my baby girl.
Jenn says:
I’m sorry for your loses Betsy & Jeni. After 5 loses, I now have 3 healthy children. Never loose hope!
Shelly says:
OMGosh, Betsy, I can’t imagine. I’m so sorry that you had to go through that six times. I went through it twice and….. lots of thoughts to you.
Carla says:
I too have been down the miscarriage road, and one I was completely devistated and the other I felt much like you did… I knew something wasn’t right. I remember telling my husband that i was still surprised that it happened bc i let myself get “involved” but i had a feeling it was going to bappen. The”untelling” people we were pregnant was exhausting but your life w Maddie was different. Maddie was here in your arms, this baby was not yet there… Be kind to yourself… You know there’s no right or wrong,
This whole thing just sucks…. Rather than giving you a sad face, can we just meet for a drink?
Michele says:
Echoing what others have said…there’s no “right” way to grieve, and every loss is so different. Please don’t blame yourself for not grieving this loss in the way(s) that you’ve seen others go through — just concentrate on doing what you, Mike, and Annie need. Keeping you all in my thoughts.
shannon says:
Heather…I want you to know that I was doing my daily things around the house yesterday and I thought about you yesterday and I thought about you. You and Mike and what you are going through. It may not make one bit of difference..but it might. If I thought about you, others are as well. There are people out there rooting for you. You will pull through this horrible horrible time. Better days are going to come your way. I don’t know this comment may seem silly… I just had to let you know…You are cared for by people you don’t even know …this too shall pass.
Katie says:
This isn’t a silly comment at all, Shannon. And Heather, don’t be afraid. What you have been through with Maddie is, like the nurse said, ‘too much’ in itself. Perhaps what you are feeling right now is a defence mechanism of sorts, but whatever it is, there is no right or wrong to be spoken of, there is no ‘proper’ way to feel. Take solace in your family, take care of yourself and most importatly – be easy on yourself!!
Jenny says:
I agree with the comments about there not being one way to grieve. I wonder if part of the empty/ broken feeling is your mind and body saying “I can’t handle this right now” and protecting or insulating you. I hope that makes sense.
J+1 says:
You are not broken. There’s no “right way” to grieve. You work through it however you work through it, you hang on to Mike and Annie (and Rigby), and you let your body heal. Take care of yourself, whatever that means for YOU.
jenni says:
There is no right way to grieve. The way you are feeling is exactly how you need to cope. After my still birth, I had five miscarriages, the pain I felt losing kai was too much, I was numb after the other losses. Sending you love,light, and hope.
Kate says:
I’ve known a couple different people who, having suffered miscarriages, didn’t really “feel” anything about it after. One had lost a baby before and suspected she would lose the second (because it felt the same as when she miscarried previously); two–one a friend, one my aunt–just didn’t feel attached to the pregnancy yet. Couple this with the fact that you knew something was wrong (and I don’t undervalue the instinct of it, I think we women learn early to know our bodies and know them well) and I think you knew better than to get so emotionally invested that you would grieve in an all-encompassing way.
I don’t think you’re broken. I think some miscarriages are just like that.
(And all three of the women I mentioned went on to have successful pregnancies the very next time around, so there is that, as well.)
Karyn T says:
I want to tell you that “empty” is the most accurate way to describe your feeling. I can tell you that it gets better. Very Slowly. But it does get better. It’s been 9 years since my miscarriage (I was 22) and I don’t have any other children yet. It still makes me ache to see pregnant women and sweet babies, especially when they are my friends. But the empty turns to sad and the sad turns to an ache. Its always going to be there. But just not at strong and not as lonely. T he empty goes away. The best thing I can tell you is to keep trying for another. Don’t give up just yet as long as your doctors think its okay to keep trying.
Jessica says:
I miscarried my first pregnancy in 2010, and I remember feeling much the same way: completely emotionless. I think I scared the doctor at first because I wasn’t more upset. It was a couple weeks before I really let go and everything came out and I had a huge messy cry. And since then, every once and a while, I still have those moments.
So I understand your empty feeling. And I am thinking of you, and Mike, and your family and friends, because this is just so awful.
Molly says:
Hey Heather, I think there are all kinds of ways to grieve a miscarriage, and I’ve had lots of friends who say they were sad but not devastated by it. I don’t think it can compare to what happened to Maddie and you shouldn’t put too much pressure on yourself. Also just give yourself a little space for the hormones to stop fluctuating. You’ll grieve in your own way in your own time.
Editdebs says:
You will grieve however you need to. If it’s delayed, so be it. If you’re numb, you need to be numb right now. You are not broken; you are coping.
Jenn says:
Hi Honey,
You know what Heather? I REALLY believe YOU ARE GRIEVING….it’s just different from the grief you feel for Maddie which it should be b/c they were too different baby’s.
Like the others have said, YOU ARE NOT BROKEN. You are just having a different experience with the grief for this baby and that is OKAY! Please be easy on yourself! You are going through a lot! Don’t forget – you’re also grieving for Jackie & that is a whole different kind of grief.
Grieving is a messy, messy process and there is NO right or wrong way to do. How you grieve is by NO means a reflection on the love you have for that baby. It is just as profound & beautiful as the love you have for your other children. Thinking of you!
With Support, friendship & Love!! xoxo
Leigh Anne says:
Heather, You can’t compare the two losses. I had a miscarriage first then 5 years later my 14 year old (22 days from being 15) was killed in a car accident. The miscarriage about destroyed me because that was the only kind of loss that I knew. I look back on it now (and please do not think I discount that loss because of losing my 14 year old son) and the miscarriage loss did not compare. It is two different types of loss. Yes, both were your children no matter how old. Yet, the loss is different.
You and I both know that there is no “right” way to grieve. The manner you grieve is right for you. Hormones play a huge role in the emotions and feelings and right now your body does not know what it is doing.
Even though I do not know you personally other than reading your blog each day, please know that I am thinking about you and sending good vibes, prayers, and wishes. Let family and close friends be there and draw on their strength when yours begins to fail. That is how you get through the losses.
TamaraL says:
Leigh Anne, I am so sorry for your losses…
Becca says:
It’s so hard to grieve for someone you did not know. I imagine the logical thing for your brain to do is relate it to your loss of Maddie but they’re so completely separate. I don’t believe it is insensitive to acknowledge that you are juggling a lot of plates when it comes to the greif department – it’s ok if this one is…. maybe “easier”? (edit – I know “easier” isn’t the correct word.. but I can’t figure out what it is – I hope you understand what I mean. I do NOT mean to lighten what you’re going through.. I’m just saying in relation to some of the other losses you have/are experiencing).
You have written so many times of a “right” and “wrong” way to grieve and this is just another example of this. Honestly, when I miscarried I was not the devestated shell that I expected to be – it just felt different.
I guess what I’m saying is – you are NOT broken.
Mary says:
To second what many others have said, what you feel is what you feel. It’s not wrong or right or whatever, it’s just what you feel. Who is to say what grief should be or how quickly and intensely we feel it? Who is to say that the white hot grief is more painful than the slow embers of grief? I, too, don’t think there’s any “broken” in this. Our minds and our bodies often do what’s best for our being, even if we don’t realize it. So, no sad clown face from me, just a wish that you feel some of the love and support from your friends and family and those of us you only know virtually.
xoxo.
Karen says:
I think all this proves is that grief is fickle. You have been so intimate with it now for so long that it allowed you to believe that you knew it. At times you have wrapped yourself in it, other times you have screamed for it to go away. Many times you have wished it hadn’t come into your life. It is perfectly understandable that you believed you knew this beast and knew how to expect yourself to act around it. It is also likely that you are being unreasonably hard on yourself as a result.
You know how you grieve for Maddie. It has become a palpable part of your life and something that will be with you forever. Just as your love for her is unique, your grief for her belongs to her alone. Your reaction to your miscarriage is different and that is okay. The impact isn’t the same because the circumstances aren’t the same but don’t ever think that you’re somehow inadequate because you don’t feel the loss the same way you did with Maddie. This was a possibility, a life without identity and a child you had only just started to make a place for. The potential, the dreams, the hopes have all left a hole and emptiness seems a perfectly valid thing to feel. It is still grief. It just isn’t Maddie’s grief and it never will be.
lisa d says:
I don’t think that your reaction is so strange or worrisome. I thought I was miscarrying my second son when I started bleeding, a lot. I had to wait a whole weekend not knowing, and I felt the same way. Numb. Empty. I immediately went out and ate the sushi I wasn’t supposed to eat while pregnant. It wasn’t until I went in for the ultrasound to confirm the miscarriage that I broke. Crumpled into a puddle before the poor nurse could even get the scope ready.
Sara T. says:
I know exactly what you are saying. When I miscarried at 9 weeks in December after having lost my 3 month old to SIDS just a few months earlier, I felt nothing. Honestly, I think that once you’ve held your child in your arms and then had to bury them, nothing can be worse. Nothing can hurt worse.
Now I’m 21 weeks pregnant with our miracle baby who was conceived on our d&c cycle. I still live each day waiting for something to go wrong.
cj says:
i’m so very sorry.
Emily E says:
Just like there is no “right” way to grieve the death of a child, there is no “right” way to feel after a miscarriage. There’s nothing broken about you if you feel the way you are feeling. With my miscarriages, my reactions have been different every time. Some people mourn miscarriages for years, some for days, some not at all. It’s ok.
For me, the hardest part is telling people. (And I only tell a very few people I’m pregnant until the second trimester for this reason). The look of sadness on their faces or sadness in their voices is much harder for me to bear than the loss I am feeling at the time. They feel bad for you, they feel bad for the baby, and you sit there feeling bad that you don’t feel as sad as they do. It’s awful.
Jules says:
You are NOT broken. You are someone who has had to deal with an insane amount of loss and heartbreak in a short time. I think you likely are in shock, and you will grieve this later. And we are all here to love and support you when you do. xo
Angela says:
There are no rights or wrongs here … just making your way through the pain, on your own timeline. I’m sorry for your loss.
Dorkaleena says:
Heather,
You’re not wrong to feel nothing. You’re not a freak. You’re not alone. I’ve had more than one miscarriage and the last one? I just couldn’t… There comes a point with grief where you just can’t handle any more of it. The heart flips a switch and you’re just numb and empty when faced with more of it. It’s a defense mechanism and not all that unusual when a lot of loss is piled on.
I’m so sorry you’ve been given these burdens. You and Mike are both in my prayers, as are your two little angels.
Jen says:
I will tell you again, you’re entitled to feel however you want about this. Even if it’s feeling nothing. There is no rule book for grieving. You simply play the hand you are dealt.
Lisa says:
I can’t imagine the devastation you all must be feeling. SO unfair! Try to remember that with time slowly the feelings will fade. When things are tough for me, I think about the fact that tomorrow it will be better, the day after that a little bit more…. You do not have to act a certain way, or not act a certain way. Shock takes a bit to go away, so hopefully the numbness is protecting you from feeling the pain. I look forward to the day that you will have another baby, and the peaceful pregnancy you SO deserve. Hang in there.
Kristin says:
Sweetie, you are not broken. Our bodies and souls have a way of knowing what we are capable of dealing with and, right now, more grief on top of the amazing amount you carry around would be soul crushing. There is no right way to grieve. There is no right way to feel.
And, btw, you are grieving…the fear you are feeling over how you are dealing with it is grief. It’s just a different way of processing it.
My thoughts and prayers are with you and Mike.
Joelle says:
Grief is a funny thing. I lost a pregnancy at 6 months after several rounds of IVF. it was devastating, and I went to counseling for it. After about 2 sessions the therapist said I was one of the most well-adjusted people she’s seen and sent me on my way. I was empty too, but I almost wanted to feel more…to have her say I needed to be there for months. After we lost the pregnancy I felt badly about asking my dr when we could try again…but she was pretty excited that we were moving forward. It was a good sign.
Perhaps your emotions are just in check BECAUSE you have grieved so much for Maddie. That your “body armor” is protecting itself from more grief…you know what the absolute worst grief in the world is, and while this miscarriage is very sad…as you mentioned, you know a lot of people that have had miscarriages, but how many people lost a child?
It’s ok to move on, to try to get pregnant again. It’s ok to feel how you feel. I think sometimes our own emotions surprise us.
AD says:
Heather –
Not the same, not the same, not the same, so PLEASE don’t think I’m saying I can relate to your loss – I’m not a mother, so I can’t even come close – but in 2011 I lost my mom in January, followed by my dad in October. There was just so much badness that preceded their deaths that by the times of the actual events, I was numb. Devastated, broken, horrified… and numb. I actually sat by my mother’s hospital bed on that last day without shedding a single tear. My husband kept telling me it was okay to cry but I just honestly didn’t have it in me. I try not to beat myself up over it. I hope you are kind to yourself, too.
People you have never met, will likely never meet, have you in their thoughts, for what it’s worth.
Amanda says:
Not broken, not ever broken. Wiser, more familiar with having two sides to love, but not broken.
Sending a hug, not for your loss, just for you. I’ll have another one waiting for a regular old sunny day with no troubles.
Angie [A Whole Lot of Nothing] says:
Don’t force your emotions; they are what they are.
Jen says:
Last summer I had lost my grandma, then 2 weeks later my dad, and then 2 weeks later I had my miscarriage. I was so numb from those 2 losses that I didn’t feel anything for the baby I lost(it was an ectopic, I almost died from extreme blood loss), it hit me a few months later that I lost the baby. When people tell you that time heals all wounds, it’s bull shit. Time doesn’t heal all wounds, you learn to place the constant grief in a different place in your heart, but it’s always there, and it’s always going to be there no matter how much time has passed.
Much love to you, Mike, Maddie and Annie!
Blue says:
You get so many comments, I am not sure you will see this one, but I wanted to make sure you know that:
1. It’s okay to grieve – really, deeply grieve – a miscarriage.
2. It’s okay if to NOT GRIEVE too.
A pregnancy is potential. Sometimes losing something on the horizon is shattering, but sometimes … it’s not. What we grieve when we have miscarriages (and failed cycles, even!) is the loss of potential. Yesterday there was something that might be there; today there is not.
It hits us differently and that is okay.
I completely respect the pain of the woman who had a miscarriage late-term. I completely respect the pain of the woman who had a miscarriage early, before she’d even told her husband.
I completely respect the pain of the woman staring at a failed pregnancy test.
But sometimes these things happen and the loss of that potential doesn’t hit us so badly – it wasn’t here, yet. The wanted child. If that’s where the bulk of your hope is, then getting derailed before you were further down the track toward that goal might not be as painful. It might be! But maybe not.
And that little bit of grief, that feeling of hollowness – that is as valid a feeling as deep grief. You are fine. You are good. I respect what you are feeling, whatever it is.
Pattie says:
First, you are not broken. Second, you’ll grieve when the time is right for you. I imagine you might be in some shock, and like others have pointed out, so much of your grief is over your losing Maddie. But there’s no right way to grieve, so please, please don’t beat yourself up over it.
Tammy M. says:
I think you’re in self-preservation mode. You’re still grieving so heavily for sweet Maddie that your mind won’t let you take on any more. Be kind and patient with yourself like you would another friend.
Stacy says:
Heather, having not read what anyone else has said: you will grieve in your own time, in your own space, in your own way. You owe nothing to anyone else, and neither does Mike. The losses the two of you have experienced is beyond most people’s comprehension. Be gentle with yourself and with one another and with Annie… you have a huge support system that will hold you up whether you feel it now, next week or even next year. When you get there, the love will be there, too.
Aimee says:
Heather I know it sucks to be part of this “club”— this miscarriage club is a lonely one –I can’t imagine how it must feel to be part of this club and the loss of a child club–neither do most. Therefore don’t judge yourself on the way you think you SHOULD be grieving– just ride the wave on what feels right and natural to you. That is the only “right” way to grieve. You owe nothing else to the rest of the world in explanation or to helping others feel “comfortable” with your loss. You do YOU girl!
Mary Moore says:
Maybe grief is like pain and you have a high threshold because of what you went through with Maddie.
Shelly says:
Heather, you have to grieve in your own way for each loss. The first time, I was devastated. There was no way for anyone to comfort me except my 2-yr-old little girl. She would just put her head on my shoulder and I could feel her strength, and that’s what kept me going. The second time, I was angry and bitter. I didn’t know how to go through the healing process the second time. I became very jaded as well. Then I was blessed with a miracle and he’s now 11. Give yourself what YOU need. YOU will know what’s best for you, no one else……..others will be there for you and offer a hug or thought or whatever else you need. And it’s okay for you to tell people just what you need.
TamaraL says:
Heather, you don’t have to feel any way other than the way you feel. It’s YOUR grief, and just like any other grief process, it will change along the way. I’m so sorry you have to be on this ride.
Kristen @ The Chronicles of Dutch says:
All I know is you’re not broken.
I’ll echo all the above & say that grief takes many forms, no one the same.
Love from Houston.
Lisa says:
You are not broken. You are grieving this loss in a different way than you grieve for Maddie. I think your grief over Maddie is so all consuming, so crushing that you’ve built an armor around your heart.
Sending you much love and many healing hugs.
Laura says:
I am so sorry.
Christina says:
You are definitely not broken. I don’t think any mother would say that the loss of a beautiful 17-month-old is the same as a miscarriage. I think it’s okay (and very normal) to feel different about the two. I think it’s okay to feel numb too. You’ve already experienced such great loss, you are going to this place of numbness because of that experience. I had a miscarriage in January. I was very upset. I just got a positive pregnancy test yesterday. I am not letting myself get too excited until I test my hormone levels and feel this pregnancy progress. If I were to lose this baby too, I can predict right now from my hesitation to get too excited, I would be numb as well. Don’t get me wrong, I’m hopeful and I’m positive (there are plenty of women who go through this and then have healthy babies), I’m just holding off on the excitement. I’m hopeful for all of us going through these things and so thankful for all you women who share your stories.
Michelle H says:
My heart aches for you Heather. You are not broken. I have to believe your heart and soul knows what is best for you and is just on autopilot right now. I so wish there was something someone, any of us, could do for you. I’ll continue to pray for peace for you.
meg says:
Heather- You and Mike are amazing people and parents!!! YOU WILL have another cute healthy baby! God will lift you up and walk you through this, let Him take the grief and emptiness. Focus on your beautiful Annie! She is such a blessing! My thoughts are with you!
Jessica says:
Oh Heather I know that numbness. After losing our daughter sometimes I wonder if I have even scratched the surface of how bad the pain really. We are in the middle of a difficult medical diagnosis for my surviving daughter and I have just been numb to it all, it’s like my heart and mind can’t take in one more thing or the possibilities of what are to come.
And that question of how many children you have/how old they are, it always stings, doesn’t it?
I’m so sorry for your pain.
Debbie B. says:
Heather, you are not broken. I totally get how you are feeling. Like all of the above comments say – there is no right or wrong way to grieve – and no need for an explanation. Please go easy on yourself and stop questioning your reaction.
Alex says:
My heart hurts for you, I am so so sorry. I know sorry will never take away that emptiness but wanted to let you know I was thinking about you b/c I know that is all I can do, I wish there was SO SO SO much more I could do for you. Don’t feel bad for your feelings- any and all of them- there is no right way to grieve and I so sure there will be tears for this loss in the future, they can wait until then. Let your body, mind and spirit enter that zone when it is ready- for now that you are in mine and obviously many other’s thoughts.
Lisa says:
I didn’t read all of the comments so apologize if this is a repeat but if it is then maybe it’s true-
We are crying for you. We are grieving for you. We carry some of the weight so maybe just maybe you aren’t having to feel all of it.
Your burden with everything that I’ve read the past few years is so heavy I hope that by sharing we pick up some of the load so that you can take care of yourself and your sweet Mike and Annie. (and Rigby). Just focus on that.
Carrie says:
I think its about perspective. Your grief for Maddie – there just is no measure to it. You knew her. You lived and breathed her. She lived her potential – you saw all your dreams for her come to life – for a little while.
Your miscarried baby will never get to fulfill a piece of vibrant and brilliant reality – which is in itself sad – but perhaps just a little less real. You are not broken. You just have a much broader perspective because of Maddie.
Glenda says:
Thinking of you and Mike!!!
May you be blessed with a little one as soon as you are ready.
xo
Melanie B says:
Everyone is different how they process grief and different types of grief. You are aware of this for sure! I just had my second miscarriage last week. I am sad at the thought of losing an “idea”, because as soon as you find out you’re pregnant your mind wanders to all the “what ifs” and “how are they going to be’s”. On the other hand, I’m ok with the fact that my baby wasn’t growing well and couldn’t make it. It’s a strange kind of grief. My first miscarriage was more devastating and still I knew it was meant to be.
Lanie says:
I call it autopilot – just have to keep moving forward (even if you do not want to).
I do not want people to feel sorry for me either but after I tell them we have 2 sons who have died it is inevitable. I have not spoken very much about my recent miscarriage b/c I could not believe that we could lose yet another child – and I did not want any more of the pity.
I wish I could write something more helpful (and that I could change those doctors forms). Sending you and Mike hugs. Take care.
giselle says:
Don’t be so hard on yourself. It’s ok to feel nothing.
Unfortunately, you are forever changed. My boyfriend lost both his parents 8 months apart when he was only 14. He is forever changed. He doesn’t feel or process grief the same way I do because I have been extremely lucky. And that’s ok. And he DOES still feel pain, grief, sadness, etc. Just at different times and in different ways.
Give yourself a break and try to accept that it’s ok to feel however you feel.
Laurie says:
I’m not sure if this is at all helpful, but I lost a baby to anencephaly 10yrs ago. My husband had plans to get a vasectomy following his birth. We weren’t going to have any more kids, but after we lost chance we both wanted to try again. And now I have Griffin, and when I look back I just cant imagine not having my precious son. If chance had lived I know we never would have had Griffin, and sometimes, when I look at it like that, I feel like the universe knew what it was doing.
christine says:
It is enough. You’ve endured a shitload. Cry. Don’t cry. Do what you feel. But ultimately stay positive. One day you’ll be able to look back after you’ve had another baby and say, “If I had had that one I wouldn’t have this one.” hink of Maddie and Annie and their sweet personalities. Had you gotten pregnant the month before or after you conceived them you’d have had a different baby. And can you imagine what life would have been without them in it? Hang in there. And since you’re not pregnant take your daughter to the beach and enjoy the summer. Even enjoy a cocktail or two!!!
Gwen says:
You are not broken. I think that some of what your feeling has to do with the fact that you sensed something wasn’t right early on. Also, there really is a difference in grieving a child versus grieving a pregnancy loss. I felt exactly the same way that you do right now and thought there was something wrong with me that I felt empty. There’s nothing wrong with you. In my case, I’m relieved that I felt that emptiness, if I had felt the same soul crushing decimation I felt when I lost my daughter, there’s no way that I could try to get pregnant again. The fear would just be too strong.
Alexandra :) says:
I don’t know anything, but it seems to me like after losing Maddie this much be so much smaller, does that make sense? *hugs* you don’t know us but we’ll be here for you always, Heather
Sonya aka Glam-O-Mommy says:
Heather, I’ve been thinking of you and Mike so much these last few days. After all you’ve been through, no one deserves blessings and joy to come their way more than both of you. I don’t think you are broken, just maybe grieving differently than you have before and it’s unexpected. And that’s OK, everyone grieves differently.
I know it’s a totally different situation, but I was kind of the same way after 9/11. Everyone I knew was sad and crying all the time and I just couldn’t cry. I thought it was devastating and I expected to cry and drown in sorrow and I just felt empty and unable to cry. I think I was in shock. Then, two or three weeks later, when a lot of people I knew were already moving on from their initial grief and no longer crying, then I started crying and I couldn’t stop and I just came home from work everyday and climbed into my PJs and cried. People thought it was weird, but it was just the way I reacted.I’ve never reacted that way to anything, not even the deaths of family members, before or since. Grief can take you by surprise, as I know you know.
Hugs to you and Mike…may you take care of each other and be kind to yourselves during this awful time. We’re all here too, listening and caring.
Wallydraigle says:
Unless you do something dangerous, there’s no wrong way to grieve. You feel what you feel. Whatever you do feel, it’s how your brain works. Whatever you don’t feel, well, maybe your brain is keeping you numb so your heart can heal a little bit first. I think sometimes being numb can be good, as long as it doesn’t last forever.
Molly says:
Sending you hugs.
Ally says:
I never really grieved over the miscarriages either. There was sadness, but not grief over what was lost like when I lost with Collin. I cried at the OB appointments when they had to do the ultrasound to confirm there wasn’t anything left out of the embryo, but that was it. It’s just a different type of grief, one completely different from losing a child. There isn’t anything wrong with it, it is what it is.
Sending you lots of love and baby dust to use in the future.
Katie says:
I totally get what you are saying about your reaction to the miscarriage. I had my 4th last month and I did not react at all other than to think I am glad it was quick. I think you are right, people have a certain threshold for grief, but I also think having another child at home when you experience a miscarriage makes a huge difference. I feel so lucky to have the one I got.
twingles says:
I know no one is supposed to play “pain Olympics” and I’ve never had a miscarriage. But, I have to think that losing a child that you had here on earth for 17 months is not going to compare to a miscarriage. The m/c is absolutely a loss, but your brain is not going to process it the same way. If you don’t imagine that you feel as devastated as people you know seem to have felt over their m/c, please do not wonder what is wrong with you. There is NOTHING wrong with what you are feeling. You have been to the depths of hell.
I make the sad clown face too – this is all too much. You are way too young to have gone through so much. It’s just not right.
Holly says:
I had the same thing happen to me ( my third pregnancy) and felt the exact way you described. The emotion never really hit me. I felt ok with it, not happy about it, but numb. I went on to have my little guy (who wouldn’t have been born had that pregnancy worked out) and realized maybe everything happens for a reason….
Auntie_M says:
Oh Heather,
I cannot imagine what you are going through. It doesn’t surprise me at all that you are numb and empty feeling. Your life has been turned upside down again. As so many others have said, you are not broken: you are just in a new “new” again. And as many have said, all grief is different…
Don’t try to compare this loss to Maddie–these are 2 separate losses.
Don’t force yourself to feel one way or the other. Just take care of yourself as best you can physically & emotionally. You and Mike hold tight to one another. Let others take care of you both too. Remember that you are loved by many and supported by many near and far who are keeping you in their thoughts and prayers.
Lovingly,
Mary
Megan@TrueDaughter says:
Everyone here has much better words than I do, but please know you are not broken. I think your heart has just had enough and knows when it cannot process any more. Hang on to Mike and Annie, and you will move through. Blessings and Prayers…
Leah says:
You are a tough lady and you’ll make it through this in the way that’s right for you. (I often think about “sad clown face”–it’s such a spot-on description, it would be funny if you hadn’t had to see it so many times and under such circumstances.)
aubrey says:
so very sorry
Leslie K says:
I just typed my whole “infertility and multiple miscarriages story” and then realized that all I really wanted to say is that whatever you’re feeling is exactly what you’re supposed to be feeling. How I felt when I miscarried doesn’t matter one little bit right now.
All that I know is that I’m really, really sorry you’re going through this… the empty feeling, the tired of people being sad for you… all of it.
Randi says:
Heather,
Numb is normal. Numb is what you need for now, and when you are ready to handle more, your body and mind will allow you to handle more. Numb and empty is exactly what I felt all 3 times I have been through it while I was dealing with the physical loss and recovery. Once my body had time to heal, my mind took it’s turn to process and grieve. Take your time, and allow your body and mind to do what it needs to do. You and Mike just hold onto each other tight, and love that precious daughter of yours. Let her be the light in your life, and you will get through this trial as well. I always said that loss sucks, but that I was thankful I had my son at home before I had to cope with it. Without him needing me, I would have totally fallen apart, and I thank god for him every day. I am still thinking of you and Mike, and send my well wishes and prayers.
RzDrms says:
I don’t just hurt for the fact that Maddie died, and now for the passing away of this baby, but I still mourn for the loss of your laptop. It probably sounds *so* silly, for a life in a faraway state, to be sad that you misplaced your laptop (with its contents), but I do, and I hope you know that many of us also carry (a tiny bit of)
your daily burdens.
Tina says:
Heather and Mike, I have both your posts. First I must say I trully believe that the souls we were meant to bring into this world, do return to us… secondly I DO believe what Mike says… the hardest days are behind you. I had 2 miscarriages and a vanishing triplet.. and I know, it will be alright. You are not broken!!
Mike worries if this might happen again or if a future pregnancy might be tainted by fear because this happened… nobody can predict that. But I wish from the bottom of my heart when the time comes, you will be granted serenity, peace, enormous joy and a healthy baby 9 months later.
My thoughts and prayers go with you!!!
Heather says:
This may sounds horrible, but don’t force grief if there just isn’t any more to be had. You don’t HAVE to grieve over this, you don’t HAVE to name what was lost, etc etc. Some women greatly mourn miscarriages, others don’t. It’s normal no matter how you react. You’ve suffered so much, don’t force more suffering on yourself if you’re just not feeling it. Miscarriages are, sadly, normal. And after what you went through, it’s totally understandable to not feel this loss as intensely. It just doesn’t compare to a fully-formed, sentient human being being ripped away from you so unfairly.
Sorry if I’m coming across as super-insensitive. Sometimes I have a hard time putting my thoughts into words that don’t grate.
Jodi D. says:
Heather and Mike – I’m very sorry for your loss. I was also not upset about my 2 m/c after having a stillborn baby. They just didn’t compare to seeing my poor baby boy. I think it is ok not to “grieve.” You have lost enough. I also agree with Mike, after having a loss, pregnancy is no longer fun. I personally DREADED every single day. I actually didn’t tell anyone I was pregnant until 22 weeks the next time. Hold the faith. You can get through this and other future pregnancies. I appreciate your family’s honesty throughout all of your good/sad times. Also, I love your recipes! The pictures are so funny – maybe you should put together a cookbook?
Susan A says:
When I read your words and some of the comments, I felt comforted. Because I suffered a miscarriage at 7 weeks this January, and after the initial shock and crying, I felt nothing. Empty but not mourning. I have felt guilty about this. That I should have felt more. Maybe it was because I didn’t feel attached.
I also didn’t feel shock, somehow I had a feeling. For three weeks after I found out I was pregnant, I could not feel real joy, even though this pregnancy was something I really wanted.
Thank you for your honesty and for sharing your thoughts. You are a brave woman.
Tara says:
It’s a very different kind of grief. I felt empty too, after my 2nd trimester miscarriage. I thought it was shock or numbness. I was surprised that I could not cry. It lasted over a month, then I started to thaw and things started to hurt.
I don’t think you are broken. But we self preserve. Maybe it’s to allow our bodies to heal first? I wish I knew.
This is not fair.
Tauni says:
When I read about your miscarriage, I cried for you. There is nothing worse than going in for that appointment only to be told there is no heartbeat. Emotions of the day I experienced this flooded me and I thought again of you and your heart ache and I cried some more for all you have been through.
After my miscarriage I wanted nothing to do with anyone, I didn’t want to see anyone, I didn’t want to hear “I am sorry” or deal with the awkward moments. When I read your story, I remembered that and I didn’t want to comment and say I was sorry because I hated those words.
I do want to let you know that I have thought of and prayed for you often.