Saturday, January 4, 2014


Last week I received confirmation that I'd lost another pregnancy.

In the following days I've wrestled with sadness, grief, depression, anxiety...

I mean, first of all, it is hard to grieve publicly for my baby because many of my friends and family were unaware of my pregnancy. Since I previously have had two miscarriages, we decided to wait as long as possible before telling anyone. I only told a few close friends and my immediate family.

Another struggle I've been having is how absurd I feel even mourning my lost child. I'm not quite sure how to put this into words. My baby only lived a little over three months. I never heard her first words. I never helped her put on socks, or nursed her, or even felt her move. What right do I have to grieve when all over the earth children are dying in their mothers arms? Sometimes my sadness just feels trivial, say, to the mother who lost her 6 year old to cancer or the family whose only son was killed by a drunk driver.

But I know that my pain does have a place in this world, and that it is something I have to work through. It's not trivial, it's just a different kind of pain. I wish I'd had the chance to meet my baby.

For some reason this miscarriage has been harder. Maybe because its my third one, maybe because it went a little longer then the others, or maybe because I am just getting older? That's not to say I wasn't sad with my other miscarriages, because I was. But this time around I experienced an emotion I've never associated with miscarriage before: Shame.

Yes, I felt ashamed. Why did my body expel this child I wanted so much? Was it something I did? What is wrong with me? At first I didn't want to tell anyone, because I was terrified it would somehow change the way they saw me.

Perhaps my fear was brought on by the roller coaster of hormone spikes that come with miscarriages, or perhaps it was a deeper heart issue--but all I know is that I wallowed in my humiliation for awhile, before surfacing from my ocean of shame to began my swim to solid ground and healing once again.

This miscarriage was not my fault. I eat impeccably well. I don't smoke, I barely drink (and stopped completely once the Mr. and I started "trying"). This is not my fault. Sure, something anatomically might be wrong with my body, but nothing is wrong with me. And I have nothing to be ashamed of. Many women suffer with infertility and I would never think any less of them, so why would I ascribe that status to myself?

This is no longer the 18th or 19th century, where the worth of a women was measured from her beauty and her offspring. Nor should a women, no matter what century, be measured that way. So I definitely shouldn't measure myself this way! And I won't.

I still wonder if I'll ever experience being a mother. But I know I'm not going to let my pain or grief get in the way of enjoying my marriage and my life as a wife, blogger, seamstress and knitter to the fullest. No matter what happens. 


  1. I love you, lots and lots Carolynn. You mean a lot to me and others. Thank you for sharing your loss, and I'll be praying for you.

  2. Sybil @ Peace it all TogetherJanuary 4, 2014 at 9:25 AM

    So sorry for your loss. I know the pain of miscarriage and still think of the baby I lost more than 12 years ago, wondering what he/she would have been like. I will continue to pray for you and this struggle.

  3. Oh Carolynn, I'm so sorry. I wish I could take you out for a cup of tea. Praying for you.

  4. Charlotte Paris WoodJanuary 4, 2014 at 2:01 PM

    I am so sorry that this happened to you and your husband.

  5. Carolynn, I'm so, so sorry. That is incredibly hard. I'm so sorry you never got to meet this little one. So heartbreaking.

  6. I'm so sorry, Carolynn...I'm praying for you and your husband.

  7. I'm so sorry for your loss, Carolynn. You, your husband, and your little child in heaven are in my prayers.

  8. Oh, sweetheart, I am so so so sorry. Really and truly. Losing a child--even one in the womb--is so painful and emotional. There's no shame in it, but I do understand your feelings of shame. I think it's that maternal instinct--we are meant to protect and love our offspring. When something happens--something beyond our control--we feel responsible. You did everything in your power, and you loved your child. You were a good mother. You really were. But it still hurts, and I am so sorry. You and your family are in my prayers. I'm so sorry.

  9. Carolynn, I am so very sorry for your loss. I think it is entirely appropriate for you to mourn the loss of your child, for however long you need to, for whatever reasons you need to. Please don't be hard on yourself for that. It's not absurd or ridiculous to be attached to your child, it was your baby, no matter how young. My heart just breaks for you in this. I will be thinking of you and praying for you.

  10. I was so very sad to read this. I haven't been in the blogworld much lately, but I am happy I saw this post so I could comment. I am sorry you are going through this and you have every right to feel the emotion you do. I want you to know I actually have a link up going up on my blog on Friday and I would love for you to link to this post if you want. This unfortunately happens to so many of us and sometimes it's nice to find others that understand what you are feeling. xoxo

  11. Lindsay-Marie YatesJanuary 7, 2014 at 7:51 AM

    Friend, my heart hurts for you. I have never been through this, but I have a friend who has. She wrote an album called Songs for Healing, that is specifically aimed for mothers who have experienced miscarriages. Her name is Heather Evans. This is a link to her spotify album.

    I love you.

  12. Carolynn, thank you so much for being open about your struggles. I'm going through something similar, though not quite in the same way, so my heart aches with you. I dearly want to be a mother as well, but I have yet to even conceive. Thank you for reminding me that there is no shame in being unable to conceive! You and your Mr. shall be in my prayers.

  13. thank you! Since I've been going through this struggle it has been such an encouragement finding others who understand. Hugs and you and your family are in my prayers :)


Thank you so much for commenting! Your thoughts bring smiles to my face :)