Shhh… Let's Talk About Miscarriage, But Keep Your Voice Down
Babble is featuring an interesting piece today by journalist and author Lynn Harris that sheds light on the hush-hush subject of secondary infertility and miscarriage. Secondary infertility is defined as “the inability to become pregnant or to carry a pregnancy to term following the birth of one or more biological children.” According to RESOLVE, the national infertility association, “over three million Americans are affected by secondary infertility. While they outnumber those who experience primary infertility, they are less likely to seek medical or psychological help.”
Barbara Collura, the executive director of RESOLVE, says, “Secondary infertility is very common, but often invisible” because people typically respond, “You already have a kid — what are you complaining about?” Harris says that’s precisely why secondary infertility has remained a taboo subject, because those who’ve experienced it “know what they’re missing and, by the very same token, don’t feel entitled to complain.”
Harris gives a really poignant example of the mixed feelings associated with secondary infertility via Kelcey Kintner of the The Mama Bird Diaries. When Kinter was having trouble getting pregnant again, a nurse at her OBGYN office said, “You should be grateful you have two. There are many women who come through here who may never have one.” Kintner thought, “Do you think I lack gratitude for my girls? Why can’t both feelings co-exist?”
Deanna Pledge, a psychologist in Columbia, MO who specializes in women’s sexual health and family issues, says, “The experience of having been ‘successful’ before can make subsequent ‘failure’ more frustrating and painful. Women say, ‘I’ve already done it once, so what happened? What’s wrong with me?’” I’ll admit, I’m sort of afraid to get pregnant again, because my first pregnancy was so easy. I’m worried that the second one will be complicated or that I might lose the baby. After watching a close friend, New York comedian Jenny Rubin, experience five miscarriages, I know the toll it can take on a woman’s psyche.
Last June, she wrote on her blog:
A couple of weeks ago I had my fifth miscarriage. I think with six, you get an eggroll. The entire first two years of my marriage have been spent getting pregnant and losing it over and over again. It is painful and scary and a very solitary time for me. I don’t think people fully understand the impact it can have on a woman. It is heartbreaking. And like I always say, I’m basically 40 – time is passing me by like crazy. It’s crazy – crack addicts have babies every second. Me? I have a fruit shake and the baby dies. Oh, I know it will all work out. People always say that. “You’ll be a mom one day” and “at least it happened early.” Ha. When somebody’s parent dies, do you say, “Well, at least you have another one?” Ahhh, but they don’t mean any harm. And it is a hard subject to talk about. But it’s funny, I have no problem talking about it. But society continues to whisper it like a disease.
It’s time to raise our voices about this important subject that affects so many women. Have any of you exerienced multiple miscarriages or secondary infertility? Have you stopped trying to get pregnant as a result? Has it affected your marriage or relationship?
Photo: Greg Hayter via Flickr
I have a 6 year old daughter who I conceived on the first try and she was born of a lovely happy and healthy pregnancy. When she was four and a half I finally conceived again and then miscarried, twice. It was heart breaking for us all, regrettably my daughter included. She was present at both ultrasounds when I was told there was no heart beat. Both times I had to hold myself together and gently explain to my preschooler that sometimes you get a seed and it grows a little but decides not to finish growing, just like in the garden and sometimes you have to plant things more than once. It took all the emotional strength I had to have those conversations with her. All the intellectually strength I had was spent arguing with insurance companies and ironing out billing codes fighting to get things paid. It was all so discouraging, we stopped trying and I made other plans with life.
Last October, against all my plans I was surprised to find out I was pregnant again. I waited a grueling five months before telling my daughter. I refused to prepare until I knew for sure. I didn’t buy any new baby things. I refused a baby shower. I walked on egg shells, taking all sorts of chemical concoctions and dealing with all sorts of pregnancy related ailments, the whole time worrying and wondering what’s wrong because the first time it was so easy. I’m due in about a month and just this week started to think about getting an infant car-seat and a bag packed for the hospital. Just this week have I allowed myself to imagine what fun it will be to have a baby in the house again. Just this week I relaxed.
Congrats, Jenny! Enjoy what’s left of your pregnancy and thank you for sharing your story!
Congrats, Jenny. As the article states, many of us grieve silently when we miscarry so that we don’t have to hear the insensitive comments spewed at us by others. I have had 2 miscarriages in the last 2 years and have cried silently alone. My husband is understanding and shares my pain, but not in the same way. He is an optimist and is sure we will have a new baby to hold soon. I dread having sex because I may get pregnant, just to lose the baby. I am so torn and alone in my thoughts. Of course I cherish my toddler, but I would love for her to grow up with a sibling.
I am currently miscarrying. I was told that it is so early that I should just treat it as menstruation. I have a two year old daughter who has been really cranky the last couple of weeks because her mommy has been distracted with bleeding and cramps and being told yes she is pregnant but we aren’t sure why you are bleeding. Finally after 7 hours of very intense cramps and vomiting I was given some closure and told that I was miscarrying, but not given anything to help manage the pain. That was only yesterday so I am still not totally cramp free and wonder if I will ever risk this pain again. I do feel so blessed for my daughter and the joy she has brought into my life makes me want to have another, but I am not so sure I want to risk the uncertainty and pain. I am ok with the loss, it was so early in the pregnancy and I didn’t know I was til I started cramping and bleeding. But I wish I had known that it could be so painful and had more help with pain management fromt the medical field. I think changes need to be made as woman in labour are seldom told they don’t think pain management is needed yet my miscarriage felt like the second stage of labour, and i have a high pain threshold, but was left to tough it out. I hope more women do start talking about this, as yes it is common and yes it is a horrible thing to go through and spreading the word can hopefully improve support both emotionally and physically. I am having trouble understanding how I had never ever heard how painful a miscarriage can be, we woman need to stick together more and communicate better.