Yet, we often feel pressured to move on quickly.
Our friends and family “have a big stake in us being ok,” clinical counselor and Xavier University professor Michelle Flaum explained. “It’s hard for them to see us hurting,” so they might “inadvertently try to rush us through a process” of grieving the loss.
Miscarriage can be a lonely experience, cloaked in silence despite how common it really is. According to the Mayo Clinic, it occurs in 10% to 20% of known pregnancies. It brings a mix of emotions, ranging from sadness to jealousy of others, and even anger at yourself for feeling that jealousy.
The pain carries into the future, shadowing even subsequent pregnancies. We mourn a timeline that will never happen, said Sharon Wise, a clinical social worker and therapist at Wired to Bloom Therapy. Parents grieve “a toddler, a kindergartner, a graduate.” A whole “wished-for future” that vanishes in an instant.
And once you have experienced loss, you will likely never have an anxiety-free pregnancy again, added Megan Lobsinger, therapist and owner of Threaded Wellness. You might feel the need to hold your breath until the baby is safe in your arms.
So, how can we as a community do better?
First, we can change how we speak. We often try to “fix” the pain with platitudes like, “At least it was early.” Instead, Wise suggests simply validating the loss. A text that says, “I’m thinking of you, no need to respond,” can be a lifeline because it offers support without requiring the energy of a reply.
Second, we need to bridge the gap in practical support. Lobsinger pointed out a painful contrast: When a baby is born, communities rally. We set up meal trains, we offer to do laundry and we send cards. But when a pregnancy is lost, that support can be absent — even though miscarriage can be a difficult medical event physically along with the emotional impact.
Offering to run errands, driving someone to an appointment or simply dropping off dinner can be a lifeline for a family navigating the loss. Finally, we must redefine what “healing” looks like.
Flaum shared that many of her clients struggle to move forward because they are terrified that “getting better” means forgetting their child. They worry if they stop hurting, they are leaving the memory of their baby behind.
But healing isn’t about erasure. The goal isn’t to “get over it,” Flaum explained, but to find a way to live with the experience so that it isn’t detrimental to your life moving forward.
I started Miscarriage Support Dayton to help educate more people about the complex emotional impact of this kind of loss. I’m working to place educational pamphlets in doctor’s offices, compile a list of counselors passionate about helping families who experience miscarriage, and offer a small grant program to help people in Montgomery County connect with mental health care.
You can watch the full webinar at miscarriagesupportdayton.org to learn more.
But if you take only one thing away from this conversation, I hope it’s this: We don’t “get over” these losses. We carry them. With the right support, we don’t have to carry them alone.
Meagan Pant is the founder of the support group Miscarriage Support Dayton