Please Don't Tell Me What Caused My Miscarriage

My first pregnancy ended in miscarriage at 12 weeks on Valentine's Day 2005. I know many pregnancies end like this and couples have endured far worse, but for me at that point, my world collapsed on itself a bit. In light of recent research which potentially connects caffeine consumption with miscarriage and the article that appeared in the New York Times yesterday I am forced to remember that horrible period. I can hear the question of whys and what ifs of recent childless mothers who have experienced a miscarriage. I was there too. Sometimes I still question why and what if about my miscarriage, even though I now have a healthy crazy toddler and a little ball of fire in my womb due any day now.   

Nothing anybody said, even with the best of intentions made me feel better. "It was meant to be," Really? I am not meant to be a mom?  "That means there was something wrong with it," Really? So you think I wouldn't want a Down Syndrome child?  "You WILL get pregnant again" Really? How do you know that? "Perhaps it's your RH factor, clotting, blah blah blah" Really? what the hell do those words mean?

I couldn't help but beat myself up. Had I had too much coffee? Had it been those cigarettes I had out with my girlfriends? Had it been my stressful job? Or had it been that when I first found out I was pregnant I wasn't thrilled but petrified? Had it been that those first few weeks I was so miserably sick that I was just not myself and hated being pregnant? (FYI, I still hate being pregnant) or was it running all around New York City looking for an apartment that wasn't the studio we were currently living in?  There is no one specific cause, it is true. It is a cliche, and that drove me craziest of all. Knowing why would not have helped, in the end, because I still would have lost the child I was hoping to bring into the world with my beloved husband.

Nothing anyone could say or do could make me feel better- except people who had gone through what I had. My mom came over when my husband had to go to work the next day,  and as moms do, knew what I needed. I had to take special medication to "expel the fetus" - it hurt physically but hurt mostly emotionally because to me it was a baby. She had been through the same thing and her empathy meant more than any hand holding or vacuous platitude any one had offered. She did not even say much (rare for my mom) and just let me cry into my pillow as I felt the cramping. My friend at work, who was just about to give birth came forward and told me about her previous harrowing experience, and though she is not religious at all, she gave me a spiritual book, comforting pamphlets and a book called Empty Arms in particular, that really helped- she had saved them in case some one needed them one day. Listening to her story helped more than she will ever know and seeing her new baby the week after didn't hurt but gave me hope. To this day she helps me by sharing all her experienced mom advice.

More people came forward and admitted they had miscarriages.  To this day, if I hear of someone having a miscarriage I ask if they want to talk about it and offer my story if they are interested and I encourage others to do the same. If you have not ever been pregnant do offer your condolences because regardless of your political views or the mother's it is indeed a loss of life. Why do so many go through this and never talk about it?  Can we please talk about miscarriage more openly?

My friend and my mom were right,  Peter and I would not feel better until we were  pregnant again or holding my next child in my arms.  When I was pregnant the second time I was scared, but for entirely different reasons. I will say this though, a feeling far stronger than any cup of coffee came over me- I was ready. The second time I was ready to be a parent and it felt right, the first time, I was still a kid myself. So maybe that was it. But please don't tell me it was anything I drank. Maybe it was just something I felt.