I am a miscarriage warrior.

I have been to war with this, I have lived, breathed it, I have survived it, with the only person fighting it being me, myself and I. Why must we suffer this pain in silence? Why do we not speak of it with others, does it hurt any less than other pain, than other deaths? Why has society cast our grief, our babies aside? How do we end this injustice??

Some years ago my dad passed away. It was horrific, it was painful, it felt like the world should end. In the aftermath I was surrounded by love. I had the love of my mum, my brothers, Uncles, Aunties, cousins. I felt like I’d been swept up in a big hug and just held, for as long as I needed it. And I needed it, so there I stayed. Yet those same people, say nothing of me losing my baby, nothing. Awkward silence fills the room, until the subject is changed and then everyone goes on their merry way. But why? Do they not feel sad for me? Do they not see this was a baby? At first I thought it was because I didn’t look pregnant, how could they be sad for something they didn’t/couldn’t see? They weren’t at the scans, they didn’t have the same dreams I had for this baby yet, it wasn’t real to them. But as if I needed the next blow, there it came, I carried the next baby to 7 months and then lost her too. You couldn’t miss her, I had a cute little bump and she kicked like a football striker. How could no-one mourn her with me? How was she not real enough? How was she not enough of a person? And yet I got the same silence.

As harsh as it is I realised you don’t know the pain of recurrent miscarriage, unless you’ve lived it. I don’t know many that have, not face to face people but there is a community of warrior women online who unite in their grief. We will not be silenced, we will not let the silence of miscarriage silence us too. We are in this together, we are bonded together.

I talk about it all the time now, I tell new hairdressers on my first visit. They ask how many children I have, if any and I say, I have 2 live daughters and I’ve lost 11 babies through 9 pregnancies. I’m used to the uncomfortable shock now, I’m quite an introvert so saying it aloud makes me cringe sometimes but I feel I have to say it aloud to get the message across. I’m amazed at how many people can relate, I’m also amazed at how many people ask me how I kept going? As if I should have committed suicide if this was my fate. Asking my why I kept trying, surely I should have given up (normally it’s people with multiple children in tow that say this). My own mum once said to me my life would be better without any children, as that was clearly my destiny. She had 4 children, suffered miscarriages too but clearly couldn’t relate to me.

I get so angry, I want to rip peoples heads off. I want to shake them and scream and shout about my grief. I want to explain to them what it feels like to bleed your childs blood, not just bleed but bleed your child’s blood and not be able to stop it. I want to tell them about all the nights I silently sob into my pillow so I don’t wake my husband up. I want people to hear the pain never ends, the feeling of being a failure never goes and that feeling of being helpless is etched into us forever.

I don’t need counselling. I’m not depressed. I don’t cry and say why me. I accept what has happened and what is likely to happen again. But I just don’t get the secrecy, I don’t get the silence and I don’t get the don’t talk about it.