Pregnancy Loss: Ashley & Sam

Motherhood Musings: Collection 3, Volume 1

Welcome to collection of Motherhood Musings, you can read other collections here. These words are around pregnancy loss, grief, and healing. I am a strong believer in other people’s stories helping us heal and navigate our own experiences. Go gently as you read, pause if you need, and remember you are not alone.

I will not be sharing my own experience along side these stories. Something is in me is telling me these stories need to stand on their own individually out of fully respect for the mother and her experience.

Ashley’s Story

I miscarried my first pregnancy at 8 weeks. It was the appointment where they did the ultrasound to make sure everything looked okay. I was very excited, which quickly turned into fear, anxiety, and confusion. I remember the ultrasound tech saying something to the effect of there’s no baby then escorted me to a room where a doctor had to come in and explain to me how to have a miscarriage…the whole experience felt surreal and impersonal. And I felt very alone.

A few days passed and nothing was happening so the doctor scheduled a D&C for me so they could do some testing to make sure there wasn’t something else going on. They eventually diagnosed it as a molar pregnancy. The worst part was the waiting. Waiting for my body to clear the miscarriage. It all felt so wrong. In all my subsequent pregnancies, I always got really anxious about the ultrasounds.

I felt deep disappointment and sadness, especially because I had been so excited and it had taken almost a year of trying to get pregnant. Because it happened so soon and because there was never really a viable fetus, it was easier for me to grieve. I resorted to practicality. The grief was around the possibility of pregnancy rather than the actual baby. There never was a viable baby. But then this brought up loads of feelings of inadequacy in myself—what was wrong with me/my body/my eggs etc. that I couldn’t carry a pregnancy? I also felt really guilty because I had been seeing a holistic dermatologist who had me on some herbs and she warned me not to get pregnant while I was on the herbs and I did. So I placed a lot of blame on myself.

I stayed at home for a few days and took off work in order to rest and have space to process after the D&C. I told some people but not many. Sharing with other women in my life really helped me cope as I learned that so many other women had experienced miscarriages too. This helped me realize it was so common and gave me hope that I would get pregnant again. At this point in my life I was really quite practical. I didn’t do any ceremony or ritual or spiritual practice to honor the loss. I basically told myself “well it wasn’t meant to be” and moved on with my life.

The mental shifting was a bit tough, and it was sad when the due date came and went but I had so much going on in my life at the time that I convinced myself it was for the best anyway because the timing wasn’t great. Lots of mental gymnastics and avoidance, really. I have three children now and rarely think about it. It’s become another cycle, a past season. Forever a part of my story, a necessary first step into motherhood. An initiation of sorts. A reminder that loss is inevitably part of life.

Time helped to mend my heart. Hearing others’ stories and connecting with women in my life. Rest and having compassion for myself. Grieving together with my husband. Giving myself the space to move through the grief process. Eventually having my children helped because the possibility became reality.

It was shocking to me how common it was and I really had no idea until i ”joined the club”. For how common it is, I wish we spoke about it more. It almost feels like it’s just part of the cycle of womanhood. And yet no one tells you about this and so we all end up feeling alone in our sadness and grief. More community support around this topic is needed.

Created by Sam Galloway.

Sam’s Story

I have been unfortunate enough over the years to have had one ectopic pregnancy and two early miscarriages. I was distraught and traumatised. I journaled about it at the time. After my ectopic pregnancy I wrote on a forum for people who also had had ectopics and that was reassuring. Being in community and airing grief is vital to my processing. Having children as they distracted me from the pain. But the pain has never left. Perhaps it is somewhat muted now.

Sam Galloway (she/her) 💕

shared two beautiful posts she wrote about her experiences of loss, physical pain, and the trauma that formed from them. Sam invited me to pull from her pieces but I cannot bring it choose what is most important out of her stories, so you can find both below.

The first writing shares what the above art means and how it helped Sam heal.

A Uterus Full of Stories

Autistic perimenopausal pain is chronic, varied and insidious

If you have lost, I welcome you to share in the comments. I would love to know what healed your heart, what kept you going, and if you had more kids after loss, how you overcame the fear to try again.

Thank you to the women who contribute to this series. I am honored to hold space for your words and wisdoms. It is healing to write along side your experiences of motherhood.

I invite you to share this post with other mothers who may find healing in these words and experiences.