Reflecting on My Identity After Miscarriage…

Sometimes I just can’t find the words to express all that is going on. One moment, I’m okay, the next moment I’m falling apart. With infertility, there were moments when I would tear up unexpectedly, and those still continue. Now, after miscarriage, there are moments when I just want to run away and hide.

The other night, my husband, Frank, and I were visiting friends at their campsite. We were having a nice time, hanging out, drinking wine, and eating delicious food. As we were getting to know the other guests, the dreaded question came up, “Do you have any kids?” Wow. There’s nothing that can take me back to that place of terror, fear, failure, and inadequacy like that question.  It was a total “deer in the headlights” moment.

deer in headlights

I don’t know how to answer that question. I hope one day I get to a place where I can be one of those moms who has children to gush over. But for now, as a mom without any living children, it’s a tough one for me. My standard answer is, “Our kids have cold noses, four legs, and tails.” After an initially puzzling moment, most people figure it out. If they have any tact whatsoever, they usually leave it alone. Thank God our new campfire friends didn’t pursue it that evening!

We had a great time at the campfire. Everyone was welcoming and the rest of the night went smoothly. We couldn’t have asked for a better evening.

campfire

The next morning, I got to thinking about my response to the question, “Do you have children?” My initial reaction was one of stone cold fear and terror. I don’t have anything to be ashamed of! So, why was I afraid? I was afraid of being judged. I felt that saying we don’t have children was the same as telling them we’re struggling with infertility.

 

Like it or not, infertility and miscarriage are looked upon as defects and eyesores which can be fixed as easily as any dent or bent fender. Not so.  Infertility is a symptom of an underlying medical condition. Like heart disease, cancer, colitis, depression, diabetes, or any other legitimate medical condition: treating the symptoms won’t cure the disease; the disease itself must be treated! There isn’t a quick fix to this. It’s a long road we travel.

long road to travel

 

Many couples never experience a successful conception. Others conceive, yet never hold a child in their arms. The physical and emotional trauma we experience all for a chance at having a child, is not something that words can express. In my case, being a NaProTechnolgy patient adds two extra elements to this:

1. I’m in overall better health because of the treatment plan we’ve chosen; and

2. It’s even more difficult to explain to someone who doesn’t know progesterone from potatoes.

Perhaps that is why I have trouble answering that dreaded question, “Do you have any kids?”

Experiencing a miscarriage in January 2014 created a wound which will forever scar our hearts. It was as though we had been given everything we had ever wanted only to have it ripped away before we could even fully experience all its glory, joy, and splendor.

 

couple grieving

As painful as this was, and honestly still is, it has nothing to do with my identity as a woman, my self-worth, nor is it anyone’s business. So, why do people feel the need to ask if we have children? If we did, wouldn’t we share that information? I don’t ask people if they have pets. I let them tell me about their family.

 

If I ever want things to change, I have to be part of that change. That means, I can’t be afraid or ashamed when asked that question. I shouldn’t feel as though I need to make excuses or that I owe anyone an explanation. I need to be able to confidently say, “No, we don’t” and leave it at that.

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