Coping with Miscarriage: How 15 Women Dealt With the Loss

Ten percent of all known pregnancies end in miscarriage. So why does the subject still feel so taboo? For women dealing with the complicated grief of miscarriage, it’s not the stat that’s comforting—it’s the knowledge that they’re not alone, that there is a space to share their story. To help end the culture of silence that surrounds pregnancy and infant loss, Glamour presents The 10 Percent, a place to dismantle the stereotypes and share real, raw, stigma-free stories.

Miscarriage is a shockingly common experience—an estimated 10% of known pregnancies end in miscarriage. When I went through one earlier this year, the stats didn’t help—but what did help is realizing that I’m not alone.

For me, coping with miscarriage meant watching a lot of Beyoncé’s Homecoming on Netflix and getting a new tattoo. It also meant recognizing that healing will take time and I’m not going to bounce back to my normal self after any predetermined amount of time; even now I don’t think I’ll ever fully be who I was before I had a miscarriage. But by opening up and sharing my story, I’ve developed a new strength I didn’t know I had.

That’s just what worked for me—there is no right or wrong way to grieve and heal from a miscarriage. Women are opening up about their experiences more than ever, but still, there’s a pervasive culture of silence when it comes to women processing their tragedies.

In an effort to do away with some of that stigma and help women heal, these 16 women opened up about coping with miscarriage and what helped them heal.

Holly, 39

“There was a lot of crying and sadness and anger. I allowed myself the bitterness I felt when I saw pregnant women. I unfollowed friends with babies on social media for a while and canceled a visit to meet a friend’s new baby. I permitted myself that selfishness. After a couple of months, I wrote about my miscarriage with sorrow, anger, and humor. When I did, a number of friends reached out to share their own experiences, and that helped us both (I hope) feel less alone. It never helps to hear ‘It's such a common thing,’ but it did help to have people say ‘I've been there too.’”

Shannon, 44

“I was 24 and lost a pregnancy that I wasn’t prepared for, so it was a blessing in a way. Still, I felt tremendous sadness and inarticulate loss. I was an artist, so I made a book, a simple flip book with letterpress illustrations that described the sequence of events from conception to loss. It was so helpful to have something tangible. It still is.”

Erica, 48

“I lost my first child when I was 5 months pregnant. My husband and I tried to keep the details as private as possible (it was a very public loss in that most people knew I was pregnant at that point). One of the biggest things that helped me was starting a blog to share photographs and my writing about Vermont (I named it Happy Vermont even though I was anything but happy). It helped me feel like I could be part of a community and connect with others during the loneliest days of my life.”

Robyn, 34

“We always planned to plant a tree when our baby was born. We called our baby Platypus. The Mother’s Day after my miscarriage, we bought a beautiful wisteria and planted it in our back yard. We named it Platybush. The Platybush flowers every Mother’s Day. We also got a puppy, who I later figured out was conceived at the same time as our angel baby. That puppy is our first child and an excellent big sister to our rainbow baby, born two years after we lost Platypus.”

Judy, 51

“Time.”

Pilar, 35

“I went away on a trip to Miami with my mother, her husband, and my siblings. I went on the beach, hung out with my younger sister, and just vented to my mother.”

Shannon, 36

“I wanted to be with people who understood the pain while also understanding that I didn’t want to be thinking about it constantly. Only my husband, parents, and in-laws/sister/brother-in-law knew about the pregnancy. We were scheduled to visit my husband’s sister and her husband right after it happened. Spending that time with them instead of at work was the best thing we could have done.”

Lauren, 32

“I miscarried at a time when I was not trying for a baby and was on birth control. I wasn’t sad about it. The hardest thing about it was that others treated me as though I was sad and going through something tragic, when for me it was a relief because I wasn’t ready for a child. I felt really guilty telling people that I wasn’t sad, which is kind of ridiculous. The way I healed from that was to talk with friends who were in a similar place in life where they weren’t ready for children.”

Ana, 30s

“I focused more on my career and worked toward my dream of getting into film school.”

Helen, 37

“I’m Canadian but I’ve lived in Japan for almost 14 years. Here we have a little bodhisattva called Jizo-sama who is guardian deity for all sorts of things, including mizuko (“water children,” aka stillborn, miscarried, or aborted babies) and very young deceased children. There are little (and big) statues of Jizo-sama all over the place, especially at shrines and temples. When I had a miscarriage, I did not tell many people but I did have a Jizo-sama. Every once in a while, I’ll go to one of our local temples and I’ll light a candle and just be with the hundreds of little Jizo-sama statues, and think about Baby. Seeing the other candles and the little gifts left by other parents, while sad, makes me feel less alone. We might not talk about it much, but you can see that you’re not the only one. Being able to do this, and just seeing Jizo-sama around town, has meant a lot to me.”

Britt, 34

“The only thing that made feel even slightly better after both of my miscarriages was talking to other women who had been through it before me. Having another mother tell me that it was okay to feel sad and that they felt that way after their own loss was the only solace I found.”

Missy, 36

“I talked about it! I did not hide, I was open about my loss and it helped me release some of the worst grief I’ve ever experienced.”

Sarah, 38

“I picked up a ton of overtime at work to stay busy and auditioned for a play to do something exciting/scary that would make me feel something else while we grieved and regrouped to try again. Also, I blogged about it, to clarify my feelings with words. Years later those raw blog posts have helped a lot of people who are going through it now.”

Amy, 34

“Put my all in to decorating my house and spending extra time with my partner.”

Callie, 36

“Helping other women who have experienced a loss has helped me tremendously—I think the more we talk about our experiences, the more we can destigmatize it. Keeping it secret feels more about the comfort of other people (and fosters shame), rather than what some women need.”

Irina Gonzalez is an editor and freelance writer based in Florida who covers Latinx culture, sober living, parenting, and all things lifestyle. Follow her on Instagram at @msirinagonzalez.

Originally Appeared on Glamour