I Had a Miscarriage: A Memoir, a Movement

by Jessica Zucker

Loss divided time into “before” and “after,” and I felt suspended between them both.

We’re conditioned to not share these stories. We’ve become accustomed to living parallel to one another, oblivious of the pain we’re all trying to overcome.

By suggesting that women stay mum during these preliminary weeks and in the event of an early miscarriage, we essentially remove from the conversation—and in so doing, stigmatize—any woman who doesn’t experience multiple trimesters of pregnancy.

“Your pain is just as real and valid and important as anybody else’s. Your loss matters because it is your loss. Your hope, dashed. Your body, grieving. Your sadness. Your love. Try to resist the urge to compare and contrast. There needn’t be a loss/grief hierarchy. It only serves to minimize your experience.

depending on my frame of mind, it was either something that would ignite me or scare me outright.

why does culture—with its wonted way of focusing on happy endings—demand that we turn our backs on our grief to serve our well-being? We needn’t succumb to this insidious unspoken pressure.

To let go of grief can feel like letting go of memory, and if we alone bear the burden of those memories, that can be a terrifying thought.