Trigger Warning: Pregnancy and Infant Loss
artificial insemination syringe
This year marked the fifth time I’ve missed the annual Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Day walk in my hometown. While I did participate for two consecutive years after my daughter’s passing, I left within fifteen minutes each time. So, I suppose that doesn’t really count since there was no walking, balloon releases, or socializing involved.
My daughter passed away the day after Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Day, which means that this week is particularly challenging for me. Coupling that with a large gathering of grieving mothers makes it emotionally overwhelming.
Throughout my grieving journey, I’ve struggled to form solid friendships with other bereaved mothers, despite my longing for connection. Most of the grieving parents I’ve encountered, though not all, seem to gravitate towards those who have experienced similar losses—be it late miscarriage, early miscarriage, stillbirth, or the loss of an older child. I completely understand this inclination, yet sometimes I wish there was more room for parents like me, who experience “atypical” losses.
I often share the story of my daughter’s loss, but what I don’t frequently mention is my miscarriage that occurred before anyone recognized me as a mother. For months, I cried into my pillow every night, those deep, heart-wrenching sobs that only someone who has been there can understand. I experienced a profound anger with every pregnancy announcement around me; I was deeply depressed and, to make matters worse, very young. When you’re young and experience a miscarriage, people tend to focus on the silver lining, but at that moment, I saw no brightness.
My miscarriage came with little support. I don’t even think I knew about Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Day back then—I felt so disconnected. It was as if my grief didn’t measure up because I hadn’t seen a heartbeat on an ultrasound. Now, having lost a child I held in my arms, I sense that other mothers who’ve lost children in the womb might feel similarly dismissed about their earlier losses.
Often, they initiate conversations about their grief by saying things like, “I know your loss was worse,” or “I shouldn’t complain.” Each time these phrases are spoken, it breaks my heart for them. I’ve been in their shoes, and I wish they understood that our grief isn’t a competition; there are no scores to keep.
Truthfully, I can’t claim my miscarriage was equally difficult as losing my daughter. That’s a reflection of my personal journey. However, that doesn’t diminish the value of the grief that comes with an earlier loss. When I was nineteen, that miscarriage devastated me, even without any prior experience with child loss.
I’ve lost two children in vastly different ways, and when someone shares their pain with me, I’m not thinking about how they might have avoided something “worse.” The loss of a child—regardless of the circumstances—is always heartbreaking for parents. We desperately need support, but more importantly, we need to support one another—every day, but especially on Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Day.
What should unite us has instead divided us, as many focus on who has suffered more or less. We become preoccupied with categorizing grief based on its perceived “worth,” which only intensifies feelings of shame, guilt, and isolation.
Sometimes, I wish bereaved parents could simply state they lost a child and leave it at that—no need for clarifications or comparisons. No more questioning what kind of loss it was, no more accusatory glares, and certainly no more forced optimism. On Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Day, I hope we can view each other as equals.
We should not need someone to downplay their grief for us to feel validated. Instead, we must acknowledge our losses as unique experiences, for that is precisely what they are. When someone shares their sacred grieving process, it’s not about us—it’s about them.
All bereaved parents should feel welcomed to share their stories.
For more insights, consider reading this post or checking out Make a Mom for expert advice.