I was already seeing a counselor when it came up that I had had a miscarriage the previous month. I was ready to breeze through it when I told her, since I had only been six weeks along when it happened. She surprised me with a look of profound sympathy. She almost seemed like she was going to cry. It took me aback because I wasn’t expecting that reaction.
“How do you feel about the miscarriage?” my counselor asked me. She wasn’t going to let me glide over that one.
I was quiet for a few moments. “I don’t know,” I said. “I feel relieved, I guess.” I had felt relief because my husband and I had a foreign exchange student living at our house, my health was poor, and our finances weren’t in the best shape for a baby. Plus we lived far from family, and I knew I would need support to take care of an infant because of my health difficulties.
But under that relief were two other things that I didn’t quite detect yet – disappointment and guilt.
The guilt was pretty easy to figure out. I wasn’t ready for the pregnancy yet, so I blamed that little nagging thought for making the miscarriage happen. I was sure that me worrying somehow sent the message to the baby that it was not welcome, and I felt extreme levels of guilt about this.
I was also disappointed, which I found out much later. My counselor would always ask me about the miscarriage, which each time I had not really thought about. If I was ever in denial about something, this was it.
Eventually, she suggested that I have a ceremony to commemorate the passing of the baby, early as it was. My first thought was, “I’m never doing something that ridiculous. I don’t need to.” But as time went on and other issues became more clear in my heart, I realized that it would be helpful.
Ultimately, I had learned to let go of the guilt and acknowledge that the disappointment in my heart was tied to love. This was a child, whether it was at six weeks, days, or months. And as it was mine, I loved it. So the ceremony was what ultimately would help me to move past my miscarriage by honoring what had happened.
To read the rest of Aly’s post, please continue on to her blog, Views from the Quiet Life
Thank you so much for your story Aly ❤