By Dr. Jane van Dis, OB-GYN
Miscarriage is an important, vital, essential topic in women’s health—in part because so many women experience it, and yet so few women talk about it. So let’s talk about it.
As an OB-GYN, I think one of the most important jobs I have is to hold space for women and couples who experience the wrenching pain of a miscarriage at any stage, and for women who have a stillbirth at or close to term, or who are forced to terminate a wanted pregnancy for medical reasons. All of these spaces are important. Though healthy pregnancies are the norm, pregnancy loss at any stage of development is also normal. It doesn’t make it easy, but it should not be shrouded in shame. The loss alone is enough; the shame women carry is too much. When I counsel women I first provide comfort, reassurance, and biological or medical explanations, if appropriate.
Every woman’s experience of pregnancy loss is different. Some women need to memorialize their loss—plant a tree, have a funeral, make an ornament—and others want to get back to work and try to move on. Both, and everything in between, are okay.
We know that finding emotional support and specialized care while navigating a loss is especially challenging. At Maven, we have a care program for women and partners who have experienced loss, personalized to meet their unique needs. We have expert providers who specialize in understanding loss and miscarriage, including mental health specialists and grief counselors, reproductive endocrinologists, high-risk OB-GYNs, genetic counselors, and career coaches. Emotional support and community is core to our program and resources, to help our members navigate this time, know they’re not alone, and find the support they need to move forward however and whenever they’d like.
For Pregnancy & Infant Loss Awareness Month marked in October, let’s continue to end the shame and the silence around loss, and to give space to ourselves and to others who need to grieve and heal and feel on their own terms.
Understanding miscarriage and loss
Let’s look at some facts to ground ourselves, because miscarriage is both simple and complex, and fraught with contexts that are medical, social, political, and deeply personal.
The facts
- A miscarriage is a loss of a pregnancy and it’s called a “miscarriage” (from English to “wrongly” “carry”) before 20 weeks. After 20 weeks, it’s termed a stillbirth; and after 24 weeks, an IUFD (intrauterine fetal demise), though many women use the term stillbirth throughout 20+ weeks
- Pregnancy loss is quite common, especially early in a pregnancy:
- Miscarriages are extremely common: 10-20% of all confirmed pregnancies miscarry by 13 weeks
- 31% to 50% of women miscarry before knowing they are pregnant
- 1% of all pregnancies end in miscarriage between 13-20 weeks
- Less than 1% of pregnancies end in stillbirth after 20 weeks
- 50% of all miscarriages are due to genetic or chromosomal abnormalities – often the combination of egg and sperm producing a non-viable pregnancy. Importantly there is nothing inherently “wrong” with the genetic material of either parent, generally, just that that particular combination of DNA didn’t produce an embryo.
- Your chances of having another miscarriage are dependent on the reasons for having your prior miscarriage(s).
Emotions and psychology
Any emotion that you feel after a miscarriage is “normal.” Some women are angry, others are sad and feel profound grief and sense of failure of themselves, of their body. Women who might not have wanted to be pregnant might feel relief. Others might not want to feel anything and would rather ignore the loss for a while and come back to it later, or not at all. And some women feel clinically depressed.
All of these are completely normal, and, in fact, it’s normal to cycle through different emotions after a miscarriage. Miscarriages can be tied up with ideas about our partners or husbands, and miscarriages can have cultural and social implications that make us feel like we disappointed our family or the expectations of others.
In my 20’s, I had an ectopic pregnancy and nearly died from internal bleeding after it ruptured my fallopian tube. That was also a miscarriage. I felt relief that I didn’t die, I was sad at the loss of the pregnancy, and I was angry at my fiance for abandoning the relationship when he found out I was pregnant—three very powerful emotions around a single pregnancy loss.