Comfort in Community
Written by Kristin Schmittel
I felt so alone. I had just suffered a miscarriage, and I couldn’t sleep. 10pm turned into midnight which turned into 2am, and all I could do was scroll Instagram. The anxiety and sadness (and physical pain!) of the miscarriage was part of what was keeping me up, but the real reason I was up was because I kept wanting to read Chrissy Teigen’s IG page, read about her pregnancy loss, read her experience, read her agony. Trust me – the therapist in me is normally the person telling others to avoid social media! But, her words were raw. That rawness was magnetic. That rawness matched my own. If this pain could happen to Chrissy Teigen, it could happen to anyone. Miscarriages don’t discriminate.
Miscarriages don’t discriminate.
“One in four” -- heck, I myself had shared that statistic with a client before in a session. But that was math, that was science. Until one of your pregnancies ends in a loss, it is just a statistic, not a reality. As that night turned into morning, and that morning turned into a week, I felt even more alone. I could feel my husband felt alone and there was an emptiness that could be felt throughout our house. We quietly deleted the photos of me peeing on that stupid stick. We erased the countdown on the fridge. I felt like I would never be able to have a child again.
As days passed, I threw myself back into work, as I normally do. I’m a psychotherapist in a private practice. It was strange, as I sat in sessions with my clients and helped them tackle various issues, I felt a comfort. They had no idea what was going on my life, but it was nice to just be with someone and not be alone. I even felt a particular draw to clients who I knew had suffered a loss of their own. I had been the one to help them through those tough moments, and I found myself reflecting back on those sessions and finding comfort in the grief that we had processed together.
After work one day I began doing some of my own emotional processing around the event. What was happening to me?! Why did I feel this way?! My mind kept going back to grief I’d processed jointly with clients – the connection, the sharing, the talking. It clicked. An “ah ha” moment. I felt lost and I felt alone because I was alone – I had closed the doors, buckled in, and tried to keep a stiff upper lip. But – that isn’t me! I feel comfort being with others in these moment, but for some reason I couldn’t bring myself to open up about my miscarriage. I needed community and comfort. I need others to process these events. Harboring this loss alone was not possible. I guess that should have been pretty elementary realization for a therapist...
I felt lost and I felt alone because I was alone – I had closed the doors, buckled in, and tried to keep a stiff upper lip.
I started opening myself up to friends, family, co-workers, and more. The response was surprising. Of course, everyone was loving and sympathetic. What surprised me even more, though, was how many women in my life had suffered a pregnancy loss, and I had had no idea. As soon as I opened up, sympathetic friends with their own still-raw and intimate experience – experiences just like mine – came out of the woodwork. The power of that “one in four” statistic was a massive community of mommas who knew first hand this loss. Some of them suffered loss with their first child, some after their second or third; some made it to eight weeks, some made it to an ultrasound, and some made it beyond. Their words and experiences were like the blanket I didn’t even know that I needed. They brought me so much comfort during that time. I was surrounded by Chrissy Teigans! Every one of them as badass as her.
As I move on from that time I continue to reflect on the experience and continue to share. Sometimes, I share for myself – to help me continue to process over a year and a half later. Sometimes, I share for others – to help them process their own loss. I don’t know why, but it is still stuns me just how many women have suffered a pregnancy loss. I learned a lot through the experience, but first among those lessons was: you are never alone.
Their words and experiences were like the blanket I didn’t even know that I needed.
It’s easy to find ourselves in the coulda, woulda, shoulda, instead of living in the moment and what really is. Living in the moment can be especially difficult when that moment is painful. So how do we work on remaining there? By building community and finding support in those difficult moments. That’s how we get through, that’s how we survive something as difficult as a pregnancy loss, and that’s how we stay strong.
Kristin Schmittel, LPC, is a licensed professional counselor in the Northern Virginia/DMV area. Kristin is the founder of her own private practice, Perform Counseling & Consulting, where she specializes in working with adults on a variety of career, stress, anxiety, and life challenges. She’s an advocate for women’s health and loves being a part of this women led and focused community. You can visit her site at www.performcounseling.com.
