John's story for
men
It was extremely emotional when my wife miscarried
our first child. I have not really spoken about the experience too much. As
a man you feel you’re obligated to your wife to not disclose the information
to too many people aside from immediate family. It is natural to feel that
the fewer people who know, the better. Isn’t that what your wife feels?
Unfortunately, this meant that I did not have an avenue where I could voice
my emotions without a feeling of violating my wife’s trust. When the
symptoms of early miscarriage were obvious, the apprehension was overwhelming.
You try to assure yourself everything will be ok and you count down the weeks,
waiting for the so called “safe time frame” to pass. Unfortunately,
Mother Nature often has a cruel way determining what is not to be.
We had been trying for a child for some months - unsuccessfully. As the time
passes, you start to question whether you are able to "produce the juice" as
they say. So, when the pregnancy test was positive it was a very surreal moment.
You can’t help but ask, “Is this is really happening?” Nine
pregnancy tests later, all showing positive, it seemed clear that we really were
on the way to having our own family. We found it hard to contain the excitement.
We bought our pregnancy development book and started to plan - too far in advance.
It is evident that, unconsciously, we were both keeping our fingers crossed,
knowing that it was early days.
The evening when the miscarriage occurred, we were both in the bathroom. The
contractions came harder and more painful than she had been experiencing. We
both knew instinctively, even without saying, that it was likely we had lost
the baby. In complete silence, we headed to the hospital to confirm what we both
suspected. I know that until I was actually viewing the scan and studying the
screen, relentlessly seeking a tiny heartbeat, I was attempting to convince myself
that life persisted.
Fortunately, the gynaecology ward had an un-occupied side-room available where
I could spend most of the night with my wife - until she grew cross and ordered
me home to rest. The fact of the miscarriage was hard for me to accept initially.
I felt like all my visions of life ahead were snatched away and I was powerless
to alter what had happened. When I awoke, more tears came. I cried uncontrollably
for what seemed like an age after calling work to let them know I would not be
in. I headed back into the hospital within the hour, and my wife was released
to go home that afternoon.
I supported my wife devoutly over the weeks after the miscarriage. When she wept
I was strong and comforted her, holding back my own emotions. And we made it
through. Now, with my wife expecting again, I find I have adopted a much more
cautious approach to dealing mentally with the pregnancy. The excitement is there
- hidden in the back of the closet waiting to bloom. As the weeks pass, I have
started to think more about the miscarriage of our first baby. I wonder what
appearance and personality it would have had compared to that of the child now
growing in my wife’s womb. I'm sure that I am not the only one who has
had these thoughts... I am sure it is just part of the grieving process! I have
made it through, but I wouldn’t wish it on anyone.
Justin 33
My brother and his wife lost their baby after three
months of pregnancy - I guess just over a year ago now. I remember at the time
I got a voice mail from my brother asking me to call him (I live overseas) and
I knew that something was wrong. When we spoke - I remember him crying on the
phone (I had never seen my brother cry as an adult). He told me what had happened
and I remember feeling very sad.
The strange thing was that pretty soon, after rationality kicked in, I went into "it's
only a miscarriage it happens all the time" mode and I sort of put it to
the back of my mind...
The next day in work I was going around doing my usual things but feeling really
screwed up. As the day went by I began to put two and two together and figured
that this had hit me harder than I thought. I work in a hospital and so I went
to see the community nurse - at this stage feeling really sad. I asked her if
it was normal for people to feel bad after a miscarriage (in retrospect isn't
it sad that we have to ask that question?) and she said that yes, even if you
weren't the father, a miscarriage is a genuine loss for all family members and
at that point I started to cry. It was like I had to learn that yes this was
a normal reaction. Even a year later I still feel sad when I think of this conversation.
I don't really remember much after that point. I guess I felt sad for a while,
but I work in a very high pressure environment and your mind gets dragged on
to other things. Since it happened I haven't really discussed it with my family.
My brother and his wife buried their baby - it was a very private thing only
the two of them attended the service. In some people's eyes that was just a partially
developed foetus, not even a person yet. But to me that was a family member that
I would never get to know.
The strange thing is how easy it becomes to push it to the back of your mind,
to rationalise it - when it was never a person that you got to hold yourself,
but when you stop to think about it, it's a very sad thing for the whole family.
My mother still thinks about the baby she lost before me which would have been
40 years ago now, and the same goes for my uncle who will tell you he has 5 children
not 4.
John
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miscarriage
what is a miscarriage?
types of miscarriage
miscarriage at home
miscarriage at hospital (D&C)
why miscarriages happen
scans
medical FAQ's
parents rights
things we may not know
infrequent conditions
molar pregnancy
ectopic pregnancy
vanishing twin syndrome
recurrent miscarriage (RPL)
testing for RPL