Several weeks ago, Ellen took it to her Instagram to share her painful feelings of grief and loss after a missed miscarriage. She left isolated and lonely in her sadness and realized how difficult it was for her to talk to anyone.

Here, Ellen’s personal reflection captures the grief, loss and isolation she felt after her miscarriage and its impact on her mental health in the hopes that it will help others in talking about their lost pregnancy without feeling any shame or stigma.

Just three weeks ago, Alan and I sat in our ultrasound clinic and saw our unborn baby’s heartbeat through the screen.

It was only six weeks and two days old, but our little baby had a steady heartbeat, and the next time we will be able to hear the heartbeat and walk out with a printed ultrasound photo.

I would have never imagined that I would be that one in four, to step out of there with nothing but a broken heart.

Up to one in four pregnancies end in miscarriage- good odds that suddenly seem stacked against you when you find out you’re expecting and start to think every little twinge is an impending catastrophe.

I am one in four.

A statistic I never wanted to be a part of but found myself in.

The worst part is, I wasn’t even desperately trying to get pregnant…it just happened.

But upon seeing that heartbeat, it made me feel like the only thing in this world that mattered was this baby and that I was the luckiest person in the world to be blessed with a child so fast.

On December 09, 2020, I woke up early to get my lashes filled because I wanted to take pictures to announce it to the world.

I didn’t know that some time between these last three weeks, very soon after we saw our baby’s heartbeat, it stopped beating for good. And, I had no idea.

My body went cold as I watched the tech try desperately to locate a heartbeat or any movement, and my own heart stopped in that room.

I googled and googled…and I found out it’s called a missed miscarriage.

Your baby dies, but for some reason, your body isn’t aware of it, and there are no signs or symptoms.

I still felt pregnant.

When I didn’t become nauseous, I just assumed I was breezing through it. My jeans didn’t fit anymore, and I was still more exhausted than usual.

I’ve never felt grief like this.

Everything is just a statistic until it happens to you.

Somehow I just lost track of time, it just went from being that dreadful Tuesday to the end of a Friday for three full days without me noticing it.

I just wanted to stay in bed and hide from the world because I feel like I’ve failed everyone.

As much as I tried to be healthy and productive, all I could bring myself to do is eat dessert for dinner and binge watch Netflix.

I look at Alan, and I feel like I failed him. I couldn’t make him a dad that he was so excited to become.

Sharing this terrible news with our parents gave me the biggest anxiety I’ve ever felt my entire life, knowing they will be so disappointed and feeling like I have wasted their time and energy over the last few weeks.

I never thought that I would share a struggle that is so private, but now I know that this is something that so many women experience but so few talk about.

Not sure when or if ever I’ll be completely okay.

About two weeks after the miscarriage, I went back to work for the first time.

It felt good to talk to everyone; it felt right for my mental health to share this experience.

However, many things still triggered me despite me thinking that I was mentally ready to move on.

For instance- I hid in the corner when a pregnant coworker came in, unable to look her in the eye and join the excited conversation of her due date.

I felt like a terrible person but just had to learn to accept that I wasn’t ready to celebrate someone else’s pregnancy after just losing my own.

And you know that Frequency Illusion when you learn something new you start seeing it everywhere?

Well, Alan and I may have started our stroller shopping early and decided on one particular model, and all of a sudden, this stroller is now appearing everywhere I go.

To make things worse, I developed a terrible pelvic ache that lasted two weeks and kept me from doing any physical activity.

I’ve always been an active person, and when I felt like I was finally mentally ready to get back to my routine, the physical pain kept me in bed feeling too depressed and reliving everything that “could’ve been.”

When people say time heals, they are not lying.

More than one month after this happened, I am finally somewhat back on track to finding normalcy.

My pelvic pain disappeared, my usual routine resumed, and Alan and I are ready to try again when we can. I wanted to document my thoughts and this journey because, honestly, nobody talks about it enough.

When you learn that you are pregnant, nobody tells you, “Hey, congrats, but just heads up, 1/4 pregnancy ends in miscarriage.”

You always only learn this AFTER shit happens. I know that even if we prepare ourselves, nothing will ease the pain.

Perhaps, it would prevent that first question from popping into your head, which is “What did I do wrong?”

Thank you so much Ellen for sharing such a personal experience with us. After listening to Ellen’s story I hope that we can continue to change the stigmas around miscarriage so that so many women don’t have to feel isolated through this gut-wrenching type of grief.

Sending warm hugs and lots of love to those out there who have lost pregnancies. I want you to know that you’re not alone!

xx

Yachna

P.S. How To Be A Friend To Someone Who Has Had A Miscarriage. and On Healing From The Loss Of A Loved One.

(Featured Image by abbeydrucker)