I lost two babies this year through miscarriage. It was horrifically painful and I’m still dealing with chronic anxiety. Imagine a recurrent dream where the boogey man is coming after your children. As if the actual deaths weren’t bad enough, I’ve got severe anxiety and nightmares to contend with, plus the insensitivity of the human race.
I still carry resentment toward friends and family who chose not to support me when I was dealing with the losses. Granted it was not blatant, as in they witnessed me bleeding in the middle of the night, then turned around and skedaddled. Rather, it was the act of disregard as if losing babies in the womb didn’t really count.
When I told a friend on the phone that I had miscarried, I started whimpering, but tried hard to cover it up. She knew I was having a tough time getting the words out. She asked how far along I was when I miscarried. I felt that detail was irrelevant, but when I answered her, she chided, “That’s nothing!” I politely continued the conversation, but haven’t talked to her since.
Another friend sent a birth announcement with zero acknowledgement that I’d miscarried. No phone call, no sympathy card, nada. Sucks to be you, but we’re happily going on with our lives!
I am trying not to be bitter, but these are people I consider friends. Not heartless automatons, but friends. What is the point of having friends if they aren’t there to care for or support you? These are friends I’ve sent presents to for every rugrat they’ve birthed, sympathy cards for sick family members, yet when it comes to my own heartache…CRICKETS!
I try to reason that some people just don’t like talking about death. I get it. It’s a hard topic to broach, but shit, then send a card or friggin email. I’m not talking about attending a grief counseling session with me. How hard is it to send an email these days?
Google sympathy greeting: “I am sorry for your loss.”
Compose email.
Copy and paste sympathy greeting.
Send.
Does it get any easier than that? Takes less than 30 seconds. Less than a minute to tell a friend who is in pain that you care, that you’re there for them.
Right after my first miscarriage, we had a baby shower for my coworker. I didn’t feel like going; it was just too much to bear within days of my loss. I sat at my cube while the party started. A coworker who knew that I had miscarried came over and said, “You need to be in the conference room right now!” It took everything I had to not start crying in front of my work colleagues as each present was opened. “Look at that outfit. So darling. One more picture!” I tried to shut down and pretend I was anywhere else but that workplace hell.
Please forgive me if I’m still angry. I am working very hard to deal with the emotional scars resulting from back-to-back losses.
Sometimes I’m ok with babies and pregnancies and motherhood, but other times I am not. If you can try to be patient with me.
I should note that the negative experiences were overshadowed by the support we received from so many, including our online community which was genuinely thoughtful and prayerful during the past six months. I am trying to think positively and be grateful that I conceived little baby beans, albeit short-lived. It’s not an easy thing to wrap my mind around, but I am trying.
Have you ever experienced something similar, where you felt a friend wasn’t there for you? How did you handle it?
What has helped you overcome emotional pain?
Lynne Childress
Catherine, I am so, so sorry that you have had to endure the pain of your loss, then have had it compounded by insensitivity. I am so sorry.
And I have had times where I felt like people just didn’t get what I was going through. I posted on FB a few months ago that it was the first anniversary of my Dad’s death, and a friend texted me and said “I know you are going through stuff today BUT here is everything I am going through”, and it felt like she just wanted to get over my stuff so she could do her own rant. I have forgiven, but I definitely realized that our friendship was more about her getting what she needed. And we don’t talk as much.
All that to say that I know that life does go on for other people even in the wake of our pain, but you just want people to say SOMETHING. Even if it is “I don’t know what to say”.
Patrick Weseman
What a heartfelt post.
I am very sorry for your losses. I will be praying for you and your hubby in these matters.
For me, I have people bail on me all the time. They tend to ride the wave when it is good and bail when it gets rough. I pretty much have come to expect it from people, I figure if I am still standing after emotional times then I am ok. I have lived for another day. I know that sounds stupid or something but it soothes my baby simple brain.
I have three poems I that get me through tough times: The first is The Ballad of Sir Andrew Barton and a line of it:
“Fight on, my men,” says Sir Andrew Barton,
“I am hurt, but I am not slain;
I’ll lay me down and bleed a while,
And then I’ll rise and fight again.”
The second one is called “Don’t Quit”. A line goes:
“Success is failure turned inside out –
The silver tint of the clouds of doubt –
And you never can tell how close you are,
It may be near when it seems so far;
So stick to the fight when you’re hardest hit –
It’s when things seem worst that you mustn’t quit.”
The last one is called “The Guy in the Glass” by Dale Wimbrow. A line goes:
“He’s the feller to please, never mind all the rest,
For he’s with you clear up to the end,
And you’ve passed your most dangerous, difficult test
If the guy in the glass is your friend.”
I have these poems up at work and they have helped me through difficult times in my life. The first two are about (to me at least) about not giving up and keeping going through hard times, The third one really reminds me that I only have to please myself and not other people as people are somewhat insensitive, goofy and bizarre.
Again, I am sorry for your losses and I will be praying for you.
Michelle
I ended up with a mental list of miscarriage friends and relatives which divided people up between never bring up the subject and avoid completely to a very short list of people I could openly work through my shit with. Interestingly enough the avoid list included the explainers who would give me their unscientific reason I wasn’t pregnant.
I even avoided friends who had experienced miscarriage before their kids and seemed to conveniently forget how devastating the experience was in the moment. They were more hopeful than I could stand in my despair. I didn’t need hope I needed to feel and work through grief.
I get it. Some friends didn’t get it. And that hurts too, yet another layer of loss. And the path got lonelier and lonelier. And there’d be only a few true allies.
I promised myself to never forget and to never be that asshole friend in the darkness because I cherished the ones who could simply sit with me in place I was in and not force me to be anything more than a woman grieving.
MO at mocadeaux
That people would fail to acknowledge your losses with a kind word or card is bad enough. But that they would be so insensitive to your pain and insist you join in the baby shower festivities is just outrageous. Please know, my friend, that I continue to keep you in my prayers as you cope with the loss of your babies . And I continue to pray that your family will grow as a baby joins you and your husband. Take care.
Michelle
I am sorry. I know how hard it is. I had a very early loss of a pregnancy after having 3 children and I remember how rotten I felt, even though I already had 3. I think that some people don’t know what to say and others are insensitive, but all it takes is for someone to give a hug and say a simple “I’m sorry.” I’m thinking of you.
Eydie
Hi Cathy,
I’m so sorry for your losses. I had no idea.
Unfortunately, I’ve experienced the lack of “friends” being there for me too many times. After being their shoulder to cry on, listening to heartache, praying for them, and more, when it came time during my darkest hours: failed relationships, being unemployed for 9 months, losing my car, and ultimately losing my house, I found out who my true friends were.
At the time, I was hurt, maybe a little angry, thinking back to all the things I had done for my “friends.” I later realized, or maybe just like to think, they weren’t strong enough to help me through. For some, they already had enough drama in their lives; they didn’t know how to deal with more. For others, I realized they were only around for the good times. Ultimately, I realized that friendship is not a give and take. You give your friendship without expectation. No one owed me anything. I gave what I could and though maybe expected it back, realized no one is ever really obligated. Friendship is a gift. You don’t give gifts expecting a gift back. If you did, you’d never ever give, just exchange.
Well, that’s what I got out of my lack of support. I had to focus on what I needed from the people who were willing to give it and to let go of the people who just weren’t there. I have no hard feelings against them and wish them well. I still consider them friends, but only from a distance now.
Candace
I’m sorry for your losses. It’s nothing to be swept under the rug- you have to deal with it and it compounds the pain when no one will walk through it with you. I was 17 when I lost mine- it would’ve embarrassed my parents to have announced it so I too had to walk it alone. I’m not terribly religious but I do take comfort in thinking I’ll see my baby again “someday”. I also thoroughly believed I would never have children- that it was a sign. It wasn’t. I really enjoy your column- know that many people are thinking of you. Sadly, it’s not always easy for people to be generous and caring. Take care.
Janine Huldie
Catherine, I know I mentioned that I had a chemical pregnancy two cycles before I had Emma. My sister-in-law was about 4 months pregnant at the time. She and I are truly not very good friends and watching her be pregnant and growing while I was going through emotional hell for my loss was hard enough, but then we had the wedding of my brother-in-law (her brother and my husband’s too). My mother-in-law thought she was doing the kind thing by telling two of my husband’s aunts what I went through so that they wouldn’t ask me when we would be having a baby. Both decided to tell about how they had miscarriages and had their own troubles, but I had no clue she had told them this, so I sure did feel horrible sitting there having this conversation that night. I will admit I got pretty drunk after that conversation (and I am not even a huge drinker). So trust me I remember vividly how badly that hurt me and totally am sorry that you have been mistreated by some and also ignored for what you are going through. Either way hurts, but still just know that there are many out there that are supportive, too for all those out there that haven’t been. Thinking of you Catherine and if you need anything, please let me know.
Yvonne Chase
Catherine,
I’ve experienced what you’re feeling many times before. Some people are just selfish and insensitive. Some people don’t know how to be kind to others. Some don’t know how to put themselves in another’s shoes. We live in a selfish world.
How do you overcome it? Take your eyes off of them and count your blessings. Focus on the bundle of baby you are now carrying. Focus on all of the good things you have happening in your life. Even though it doesn’t feel good, I know it doesn’t…they showed you who they are and now you never have to have this sort of experience with them again.
Keep your chin up beautiful! It gets better…
Considerer
Catherine, sending you huge, massive, wrap-around hugs and so much love. Hate that people dismissed you or haven’t engaged with your awful (and VERY REAL THANKYOUVERYMUCH) losses. Hate that we have to feel as though we should be ‘alright’ and ‘able to join in with celebrating others’ babies’. Hate that it’s never something we get over.
Many prayers heading your way – for healing, for wholeness of heart, for remembering without pain (one day – maybe) and for being able to accept that grief is a funny thing which will mess with your head, and to be able to bear with it. Take care of you x
Alison Hector
Catherine, I’m so very, very sorry. People can be real you-know-whats sometimes… oftentimes when we need them the most to be there for us. Insensitivity bites big time. There’s no way around it.
I’m praying for your current pregnancy and believing God to bring tremendous healing to you from the pain of your miscarriages. I’m also praying for you to be surrounded by good peeps, true friends who will give you 1000 percent support throughout your pregnancy and beyond, when the baby arrives. Please know that I’m in your corner, standing in the gap for you!
YK
Dear Cathee, I’m very sorry for your losses and the additional pain you felt by the ones closest to you. Your post reminds us what it means to be human. Take care! Sending you a great big virtual hug, my friend and Forestry Camp roomie!
Sarah
It is hard for some people to talk about death, but that does not excuse anything. After experiencing the loss of a loved one for the first time, I realized how important that support was– the difference that a simple “I’m sorry for your loss” makes. And when you know what a friend is going through, to refrain from offering comfort because it makes you uncomfortable is just selfish. I’m so so sorry that for all of these experiences you’ve had to deal with, from the miscarriages to the anxiety to realizing who you thought you could count on but couldn’t. While I have never experienced something quite like this, I have found it important to remember that healing happens little by little, that it is important to congratulate yourself on every small victory and step forward, and that it’s okay to rant, to feel sorry for yourself, and to be angry. Wishing you the best through this process of healing.
thedoseofreality
Sadly, experiencing a loss is a great way to learn exactly who your friends are. When my mother died a couple years ago, I was blown away by the outpouring of support from people I never would have expected it from and also quite disappointed by some people who did not “step up” in the ways they should have.
I think that people should do exactly what you suggested here. Just be kind. And express sympathy. And remember to check in on the person. Because the loss lasts.
I am so sorry that you have not been surrounded by love from the people who should be giving it to you. It is not right.
What you went through (and are still going through) is painful and should be acknowledged as such.
Hugs to you.-Ashley
Tamara
I am so very sorry for your losses. I feel a bit disoriented when I stumble upon a great blog in the middle – I am sorry if I was ever insensitive in the past talking about babies or pregnancy.
When my father died, some people my mom thought were close friends or even close FAMILY members treated her like she had a contagious disease. Then there were the people she didn’t know as well who were solid rocks. And they grew closer.
What helps me with emotional losses? I know there are a lot of things people write or talk about, but ME in particular? Time, my mom, dogs, friends (even when I wanted to be alone with my grief), writing, photography, more time, more of all of the above.
Thinking of you.
dana
The very first time I read your blog was when you wrote about your first miscarriage. I was so sad for you and your husband, and blown away by the rawness and honesty in your words. How people – friends – who know you personally could not be as affected, could not offer words of condolences, is beyond me. I keep most of my emotional pain inside, sharing only with those closest to me. I hope writing helps you, Catherine, and I’m glad that you have many more positive and supportive people in your life than negative ones.
FitBritt@MyOwnbalance
I’m really sorry for your loss. I can’t even begin to imagine how hard that must have been for you. I think people are either just genuinely clueless or don’t know how to handle such a difficult subject. Either way, I understand why you would want to disengage from these people. I’ve never experienced anything on the same level as you have, but I have certainly have friends who were not sympathetic to issues in my life but expected me to listen while they endlessly complained about every little thing in their lives. Those people are not your real friends, sorry to say.
Kristi Campbell
I’m so so sorry for your losses. I had a really hard time with my miscarriage as well and wanted to punch people who said “you’re young! you can try again!”
Sigh.
I think that because it’s so much more common than any of us realize until we experience it, that people think it’s okay to just make it “common” or “normal” and it’s not. It’s devastating and life changing and depressing as all hell.
Sending prayers and hugs to you and yours. Tons.
Stevie
Oh big big hugs to you right now. My heart feels heavy for you and I’m so sorry for your losses. It’s not fair.
I don’t always understand people. I think sometimes people don’t know how to slow down enough to think about the world through someone else’s eyes. I think sometimes people want to believe that others are strong and don’t need support. And sometimes people hide from what they don’t know how to handle.
I hope that writing about these painful experience help you heal and find comfort. And may you always be surrounded by the friends and loved ones that know how to support you when you need it most.
Nellie @ Brooklyn Active Mama
Catherine big huge hugs for you. I am so sorry for your loss. People react horribly to extremely sensitive situations, I have been there.
Your co-worker was wrong. You should have been left alone, I mean that is just common sense.
The birth announcement probably wasn’t meant to be a jab but special considerations should have been taken for sure. People don’t know how to cope with awful situations and until they are educated on how to handle it, they will continue to mishandle it.
Savvy Working Gal
Catherine,
I feel so sorry for you and your losses. One of my former co-workers who was in a very serious car accident told this incident taught her who her real friends were. Some who she thought were besties didn’t even visit her in the hospital and another who was just a casual friend would wheel her around, so she could do errands and went with her to therapies.
For me talking and crying on a friends shoulder has helped the most. If I was in California I’d be over with two lattes today so we could chat. Cheryl Strayed answered a question similar to this in Tiny Beautiful Things. If I can find it online I will send it to you.
Take care.
Savvy Working Gal
I found it:
http://therumpus.net/2010/07/dear-sugar-the-rumpus-advice-column-44-how-you-get-unstuck
Karen
I have never been pregnant so I don’t know how you feel, but I’m sorry you experienced that kind of loss and pain.
I lost my brother this year to cancer. Like you, I had plenty of people who were supportive and thoughtful, and others who were around but didn’t know how to act. Still others acted as if nothing had happened. You can tell the difference between those who care about you but don’t know what to do and those who are so self involved they are clueless, or worse, cruel.
A friend of mine gave me a book called “Healing After Loss: Daily Meditations for Working Through Grief” by Martha Whitmore Hickman. It was a blessing and has really helped. I know she has other books as well.
I’ve also been writing (nothing published online yet) and that also helps.
Simone Anne
Ugh. So difficult. Sending love. (& evil looks for coworkers & friends who are being ridiculous & oblivious)
xo
Andrea
I know how you feel. I have had 5 miscarriages. They suck. Hard. And people make it suck even worse by being sucky. Especially a family member. I got burned the worst by a family member & her lack of compassion, & her ability to turn everything, including my miscarriage, into some stint about how she is left out. It sucks. Let it out. It’s the best way to get over your broken heart. I internalized the last 2 so much that I wound up having anxiety attacks. Grieve & be angry, and please know that you are NOT ALONE.
Stephanie Dawn Sjoberg
Wow. *Hugs* Some people are simply not your friend..rather YOU are THEIR friend. I’ve decided that people just will never understand that a miscarried baby IS a baby…just the same. From the moment of conception, it is a life, and you bond with the little being from the moment it is but a vapor. No one can know the pain except for possibly one who has also lost in this way. That being said… WOW people totally SUCK! For me, my inner circle is getting smaller and smaller because I don’t have time to waste on people that have no true heart for me. And as for people with no depth or range of emoticons… they are worthless anyway. So love, cherish and celebrate the hearts that support and celebrate you! I loved the post, thank you!
Ferly TaNgonan | Gifts We Use
I totally understand what you’re going through here. It’s hard when the people close to us let us down when we expect their support most. My husband has repeatedly reminded me that I shouldn’t have any expectations of anyone. That’s a hard lesson I am still learning, but what it does for me is reduce my resentment towards people and brings me closer to God where I should find comfort and guidance most through prayer and scripture. I still have my bitter moments, but they don’t hit as hard because I know the enemy wants nothing more than to stir up anger and turn me away from what’s important.
~ Ferly
Gifts We Use {to grow, love and serve}
Jude
Catherine, I’m sitting here bawling my eyes out. Thank you so much for sharing this post. It’s been just over 9 years since my miscarriage and the pain is still bubbling there, right on the surface. It doesn’t help that my best friend and I got pregnant at the same time – only she carried to term and has a beautiful daughter to show for it. Every birthday, every milestone, it aches a little. Don’t get me wrong, I love her and my GodDaughter, but it also continues to hurt, long after everyone else has forgotten. To my friend’s credit, every year, she gives me a card and a plant, reminding me that she knows how hard her girl’s birthdays are for me and thanking me for being her GodMother anyway.
She was the only one who got it though, maybe because she was pregnant at the time. This post says all the things I wish I could have said to my other friends at the time. The ones who told me “I was so young! There was a lot of time.” or “You were barely pregnant. Nothing has changed really.”
I’m hurting. I need you. Anything is better than this elephant in the room or worse, the genuine lack of realization that I’m having an out of body experience here.
I felt abandoned. I can’t even imagine having been on the receiving end of blatant inconsideration like you were. A baby shower? You are a strong, strong woman.
Joy
I know it’s been a while but for whatever it’s worth, I want to give you a virtual hug, Catherine. I can relate to your pain and anger as I’ve had a miscarriage as well. I won’t bore you with the details here as I’ve written on it on blog and if you’re interested, I’d like to share them with you via links below. Anyway, like you, I found A LOT of support online. Mothers AND fathers who have experienced a similar loss offered me words of support and I realized that just knowing that I wasn’t alone in my grief helped tremendously. The anger (at others and God) lingered for a while and the pain, though dulled by now, is still there, silently throbbing. I know that the sense of loss will never fully go away and the only thing that has truly kept me going is the will to focus on gratitude, even for the smallest things. I wish you the best and may you always have the courage to choose healing. *HUGS*
Here are my essays on my miscarriage if you are interested:
http://www.joypagemanuel.com/2010/12/yet-another-day-my-world-stood-still.html
http://www.joypagemanuel.com/2010/12/please-hear-me-with-love.html
http://www.joypagemanuel.com/2011/07/in-company-of-waves.html