Wisdom from Rascal Flatts (heavy topic alert: miscarriage)

Two statements about this post...

1. If you are pregnant, skip this post. Google baby names, or better yet, take a nap.

2. This is a post I am nervous to publish because it is so vulnerable, and well, it is kind of a downer. BUT this is also a topic I think women (and men) need to talk about more freely, so that is what I am doing here.

...God blessed the broken road, that led me straight to you.
                               Rascal Flatts, "Bless the Broken Road"

I know this song is about a broken road toward true love, but for me it speaks of miscarriage. Yes, miscarriage. Allow me to explain.

One thing I have learned over the past 10 years of life and marriage it is that the road to building a family is rarely straight, predictable, or what you thought it would be like. Mine certainly wasn't.  I started our marriage working in the adoption field for a few years so I never had illusions that building a family was smooth or easy.  A lot of people adopt because they have a heart or calling to do so. A lot of people also start or build a family through adoption because the biological route isn't working, or is too heart-wrenching.

Despite the fact that I worked with and for adoptive families who had often traveled a broken road toward the adopted-loves-of-their-lives due to infertility or pregnancy loss, I did still have illusions that the road would be straight for me.  But it wasn't.  I have been pregnant 5 times, and I have 2 children at home. My story is in the math.

My first two miscarriages were "standard" early miscarriages at 6 or 7 weeks. I went through the normal range of emotions and thoughts. Surprise. Sadness. Fear. Shame. What is wrong with me? Was this my fault somehow? Will I be able to get pregnant again? Will I miscarry again? I felt the weight of my own disappointment, but I also felt like I was carrying the weight of so many other people's dreams and hopes (loving husband, parents, siblings, grandparents, aunt/uncles, cousins, nieces/nephews, friends etc.).

The term miscarriage is one simple word that represents so many different experiences. Different physical experiences.  Different emotional experiences. If a miscarriage occurs before a first child, after a first child, or after a third...it doesn't matter...loss is loss and it hurts at any stage of family-building. Miscarriage is also a very generic medical term that is used for radically different medical and personal situations and experiences (3rd loss in a row, miscarriage after IVF, miscarriage after stillbirth, pregnancy loss at home, missed miscarriage, loss requiring a D&C, etc. etc. etc.).

Twenty months after the birth of my first daughter I experienced a loss that the medical world calls a miscarriage, but I call a stillbirth. I lost a baby boy at 18 weeks. While he had no chance of survival outside of my womb at 18 weeks, he was a perfect and healthy baby. 18 weeks into a smooth and uneventful pregnancy I suddenly and unexpectedly went into labor due to an infection no one knew I had.  After a rapid and terrible sequence of events, that will always be both a blur and crystal clear to me, I was in the ER, and I was handed the tiny perfect baby I had just delivered. It was a boy. He was wrapped in a blanket, and he never moved or breathed in my arms. I got to hold him for two hours until my husband and I were ready to say good-bye. 10 fingers, 10 toes. Flawlessly formed. We named him Benjamin. He was my son. 

What is the point of sharing this story?  What is the point of this post?  

I'll tell you.  There are a few things I want you to know about miscarriage based on my personal experiences, the experiences of people I love, and all the times I have said or done the wrong thing. Some of this may resonate for you, some of it may not. 

- Speak with sensitivity about the number of kids people have, or the spacing of their children.  There is often a story behind how a family came to be.  And that story often includes a miscarriage, or another form of loss.  Don't assume.

- If you have had a miscarriage, talk about it. Find someone else who has been down a similar broken road and support each other.  When I experienced my third loss I received tears and support from women who lost babies 10 and 20 years ago, some women I barely knew.  Miscarriages sting no matter how long it has been, and women who have experienced miscarriage often have empathy and comfort to give. No one understands your exact experience, but some understand it more than others - find those people.  Don't bare the weight on your own.  Husbands are a great source of support, but they experience miscarriage in a very different way and they are often too emotionally close to the situation. Find another woman and lean.

- Infertility and miscarriage are different.  There is loss involved with both experiences, but they are not the same.  And no two experiences of miscarriage or infertility are the same either.  While women who have experienced miscarriage and infertility can support each other, there are always major differences that should be respected.

- Go there. No one will ever have the perfect thing to say, but in my experience, saying something wrong with love and good intent is WAY better than saying nothing at all. Give a hug. Send a card. Say a prayer. And follow up. Don't be afraid of making someone cry by asking how they are doing. Walk with your friends, family, and loved ones when they experience a loss. 

-   Broken roads can lead to blessings and good things...eventually. Sometimes broken roads lead to other children. My broken road led to two little girls that otherwise would never have been in my life.  Sometimes broken roads lead to children, but sometimes they lead to other things... a move, a job, a closer marriage, greater empathy, intimacy with God, opportunities to reach out to others. Follow your broken road to see where it may lead.

What I want you to know is that miscarriages happen...all the time. Miscarriages happen and it shouldn't be a secret. Miscarriages happen and often create a broken road.  Our broken roads are our stories.  Our broken roads can lead to someone, or something, great.