Here is the full transcript of Cassandra Blomberg’s talk titled “Silently Suffering After Pregnancy Loss” at TEDxSDMesaCollege conference.
Listen to the audio version here:
TRANSCRIPT:
If you were born in July, August, or September, raise your hand. July, August, and September birthdays. Everybody look around. Whenever you look around at those who have their hands raised, this is about 25% of our audience.
The Invisible Reality
Well, the invisible reality for 25% of women who become pregnant is that they will lose their babies to miscarriage or stillbirth. Many of these women won’t even be aware of this shocking statistic until they become a part of it because, unfortunately, in our society, pregnancy loss is a taboo subject. This lack of discussion surrounding pregnancy loss leaves couples suffering in silence. And here’s the thing.
When we have other deaths in our lives, whether it be a friend, a family member, a coworker, a pet, we share that loss with others. We talk about it. We post about it on social media. This results in an outpouring of support, and this support is wonderful and necessary for us to heal and move forward.
However, for many couples who are dealing with pregnancy loss, that loss is just as devastating as other losses in our lives. They’re not receiving the same type of support that they need to move forward because it’s not viewed as such. We need to do better. I’m an early childhood specialist and a child and family development instructor, but my most important job is being mommy to these three amazing little boys.
Personal Journey
Mason is six, Cyrus is two, and Beckett is one. Hashtag boy mom. My husband and I had a fairly uneventful pregnancy, and by the time Mason was just a few months old, we knew we wanted more children. Mason desperately wanted a little sister.
When I found out I was pregnant with Cyrus, he would beg and plead and wish and hope that the baby would be a girl. He would come up with lists of girl’s names, like Rosebud and Rainbow. Any time he passed by the girl’s clothing section at the store, he’d pick out the dresses that he wanted for his future sister. So I’ll never forget when I found out what I was having, and I came down and I sat Mason down on the couch, and I was very excited.
I told him, “Mason, the baby’s a boy.” He looked at me a little cockeyed and asked, “Is it a girl boy?” “No, Mason, he’s a boy boy.” What Mason didn’t understand, because he was too young at the time, is that he did have a sister. Her name was Violet, and she was stillborn.
In fact, between the time that Mason was one and I became pregnant with Cyrus, my husband and I had four pregnancy losses. We lost one baby at five weeks, one baby at nine weeks, one at 12 and a half weeks, and Violet, who was stillborn, at five and a half months. We went through two and a half years of hell.
Seeking Healing
After those losses, I knew that in order to heal and move forward, I had to do something. So I did two things. One, I threw myself into researching everything I could about pregnancy loss. At a time when I felt so out of control, it felt like researching and learning about it was one thing I had control of.
And two, I began sharing my experience. And I realized that not only was I receiving support, but I was giving support to other women, too. And it was through this journey of sharing my experience that I realized we need to break the silence surrounding pregnancy loss so that we can better support the couples who are going through it. During my losses, when I was in the thick of it, I felt very isolated and unsupported.
In fact, after every one of my losses, I was back at work immediately. At that time, I really should have been grieving. I didn’t tell anyone at work about my miscarriages because I just didn’t feel comfortable talking about them. I was ashamed. No one else talked about their miscarriages. Why is that? Anyway, after I had Violet, my stillborn, everyone at work knew I was pregnant. I was so far along.
Returning to Work
I had to tell them that I had lost the baby. And I’ll never forget, I delivered her on a Saturday. Side note. There’s nothing quite like the feeling of walking into a hospital pregnant and leaving the hospital empty without your baby. But I delivered her on a Saturday. And the following Tuesday, I was teaching an infant-toddler development class. I’ll never forget that night because the topic that I was covering was pregnancy. That was rough.
For a long time, I would talk about Violet but not my other losses. I was so ashamed, and I didn’t want people to know how many times I had failed. It also felt like if I only talked about Violet and not the other ones, I could pretend like they didn’t happen, and my mind could not process losing four babies. I just wanted it all to go away, but it didn’t.
Societal Norms and Misconceptions
If you’re not convinced that society in general in the United States is unsupportive of pregnancy loss, I want you to think about a common practice we have here. Waiting until you’re past the first trimester for around 12 or 13 weeks to announce your pregnancy. Trust me, when a woman who has been trying to get pregnant finally gets that positive test, she wants to shout it to the world. “I’m having a baby!”
It is so difficult to wait to share this news. But we do. And that’s because the majority of miscarriages happen in the first trimester.
So it kind of feels like after that point, you’re out of the danger zone. So if a woman miscarries and she hasn’t announced her pregnancy, then she also doesn’t have to tell anyone about the miscarriage. Think about it.
Women are preparing ahead of time to mourn in silence, isolated, if they lose their babies. Isn’t this ludicrous? There also seems to be a misconception that an earlier loss isn’t as big of a deal as a later loss, and this isn’t true. Research shows that there’s no connection between the gestation, which is how far along the pregnancy is, and the amount of grief that a woman feels.
When I finally started talking about my experiences, I was shocked to discover some women in my life that had miscarriages that I was completely unaware of. I had no idea.
Emotional Journey Through Loss
And it was through these conversations with these women that I realized they also had to silently process the same emotions that I had. These emotions that many women and men experience when going through a pregnancy loss are guilt, fear, confusion, heartbreak, and isolation.
The guilt. “What did I do wrong?” “What’s wrong with me? Maybe I shouldn’t have lifted Mason into the shopping cart that day, or maybe it was that cheese I ate at the dinner party last week. That cramp I felt. I knew I should have gone to the doctor. Maybe I didn’t drink enough water. Maybe I drank too much. The what-ifs, could-haves, would-haves, and should-haves are overwhelming, and the reality is that the vast majority of pregnancy losses are out of a woman’s control, with 90% of first trimester losses being caused by chromosomal issues. But that didn’t stop me from wondering what I could have done differently.
Overcoming the Silence
And it’s this guilt that leads to the shame that surrounds pregnancy loss. The fear. “Will I ever be able to have another baby? What’s wrong with my body? Will I ever be happy again?” The confusion. “What went wrong? What do I do now? What tests should I run? What can I do differently in the future to keep this from happening? Where is God?”
I remember one question that I kept asking myself over and over was, “Why me?” I wanted to be a mom since I was a baby myself. I never played with Barbies. I would spend my days taking care of baby dolls. I babysat, and I was a teacher, and I opened a preschool for low-income kids, and I taught future teachers. I dedicated my life to taking care of other people’s children. Why couldn’t I take care of my own?
The heartbreak. “My baby is gone, and with her, my hopes and dreams.” Everywhere I looked, I saw pregnant women and babies, and every time I saw a pregnant woman or a baby, my heart shattered into a million pieces all over again. And isolation. “Why is everyone else able to have a healthy baby? Why doesn’t anyone seem to understand what I’m going through? I fell into a dark hole and isolated myself from many of my family and friends for a while.
It just felt like no one understood the depth of my pain, and so it was easier to just not talk to anyone than it was to try to fake a smile and pretend like everything was okay.” And that wasn’t okay. “Me isolating myself was not okay.”
The Lingering Impact of Loss
And that’s because potentially severe and long-term consequences can occur when we fail to acknowledge and discuss these emotions that men and women are going through. For example, the depression and anxiety rates among those who’ve had a pregnancy loss are staggering. One year after a loss, 35% of women are clinically depressed. Three years after the loss, 15% of women still are.
You compare this to the 5% of the general female population with clinical depression, and it becomes apparent that more needs to be done to support them. One of the most devastating consequences of this depression and anxiety actually affects a woman’s future children. So, many people believe, and will tell a grieving mother, that if she has another baby, she’ll just get over it. I hope that was true. I hope that would be the magic cure that would make all my pain go away.
But research shows, in fact, that having another baby does not make the loss of a previous pregnancy feel any better. And I learned that firsthand when I had Cyrus. Finally having him after four losses proved to be a double-edged sword.
The Complexity of Healing
On the one hand, I was so grateful for him. So when I was up for the 50th time in the middle of the night, and so tired I couldn’t see straight, I’d remind myself I’d rather be awake rocking my living baby than awake crying because I had lost another one. On the other hand, every first with him was a painful reminder that these were experiences and moments that I would never have with Cyrus or my other angel babies. And that was hard.
Research that’s been done on women who have delivered a healthy baby within 19 months of a pregnancy loss has discovered that 45%, almost half of these incidents develop a disorganized attachment.” And this is a really big deal. So in a normal, healthy relationship, a baby develops a secure attachment with their mother. And this occurs from the natural ebb and flow of a responsive caregiver who is emotionally available to meet their baby’s needs.
So the baby cries, and the mother comforts him. And the baby’s hungry, and the mother feeds him. And the baby gets into something that she’s not supposed to, but the mother responds in a calm and developmentally appropriate way. The baby starts to learn, like, the world is safe.
Attachment and Its Discontents
They have a secure foundation from which to grow and learn and develop other healthy relationships in the future. On the other hand, with a disorganized attachment, the caregiver responds in very unpredictable ways, especially in stressful situations. So when the baby’s been up all night crying or getting into something they’re not supposed to. Sometimes the mother responds appropriately, but oftentimes the mother responds in frightening or frightened ways.
And the baby doesn’t really know what to expect. They don’t feel very safe. They don’t have a secure foundation from which to grow and develop other healthy relationships. Many children and adults with a disorganized attachment have externalizing behaviors.
The Need for Support
So they’ll deal with stress in their life with violence and aggression. Research has shown that this disorganized attachment occurs when a mother has a trauma or a loss that isn’t unresolved. So when you think about it that way, it makes sense that a mother who has a pregnancy loss and didn’t receive the support she needed to heal and move forward, but then has another baby, could potentially result in a disorganized attachment. We need to do more to support these folks.
And I know it can be difficult to find the right words to say to someone who’s going through a pregnancy loss, but there is a short list of things that are definitely not helpful. So I’m going to give a quick crash course in phrases to avoid when talking to somebody who has a pregnancy loss. Well, at least you know you can get pregnant now. You can always have another baby.
Wait, can I really have another baby? You know that? I don’t know that. Remember that fear I was talking about earlier? More than ever now, I know that there’s no guarantee. So unless you have a crystal ball, this is very helpful. Something must have been wrong with the pregnancy, you know? So it’s probably for the best.
And how does this help my guilt? By the way, I’d rather have my baby with something wrong than not have my baby at all. You know, miscarriage is pretty common, you know? It happens, it’s just kind of part of the process. It happens sometimes, 25% and all. Yeah, and 100% of people die. But that doesn’t make it any easier, does it?
God needed another angel. And I would have happily handed my child over to him in another 110 years. Really, any silver lining on the bright side type of comment should be avoided. Because however well-intentioned all these things is, is that it feels like they trivialize the loss. And they’re in life’s problem. Because there’s nothing trivial about miscarriage or stillbirth.
So to those of you who have not had a loss that may be supporting someone through it, remember, this could be your mother’s story. It could be your grandmother’s story, your aunt. This could happen to your daughter, your sister, your friend, your co-worker. Maybe it already has, and you’re just not aware. Please know that the pain someone’s feeling can be partially mitigated with empathy and support.
Treat that loss the same way you would treat any other loss in your life. Don’t be afraid to ask someone how they’re feeling or let them know that you’re thinking about them or their baby. Trust me, that baby’s not far from their mind. So bringing it up will not cause them more pain. Instead, it will let them know that you recognize their grief is real and give them the opportunity to talk if they want.
To those of you who are going through a loss or have gone through a loss, I’m sorry. I know it’s hard, and I know you won’t always want to, but talk about your loss. Keeping that grief hidden isn’t healthy for you or your future children. You are not alone. And once you start sharing your experience, you’ll find others who have gone through a similar thing and can be each other’s support.
Connecting with others who have had a similar experience can be powerful and healing. Join support groups online and in person. Go to a therapist. Don’t ever question why you’re feeling so much pain over the loss of someone you never knew. Your loss was real, and so is your pain. This may be one of the most difficult things you go through, but you will regain a sense of normalcy.
For me, I have learned that the four babies I’ve lost is part of my story. And while it is the most difficult thing that I’ve ever had to endure, I was able to heal and move forward by finally finding the strength to make my reality visible. To help myself heal and help others as well, I choose to share my experience whenever appropriate in whatever way possible. One-on-one in person and in online support groups, and by being here today, I hope others who are suffering in silence will benefit by doing the same.
And because of what we’ve gone through, my husband and I are so grateful for the three boys that we do have. And we cherish our days that are filled with stinky feet, wrestling, and new song renditions like “Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Part.” There’s three stories every day in my house. But they’re also filled with hugs, cuddles, and “I love you.” Thank you.