When 'Miscarriage' Doesn’t Cut It: The Real Pain of Pregnancy Loss

Let’s talk about pregnancy loss for a minute. Or as it’s often labelled, “miscarriage.” Ugh. What a term. Miscarriage sounds so clinical, so tidy. But let’s be real: there’s nothing neat about it. Nothing that fits into the little box society has made for it. And if you’ve experienced it, you know that it’s not just about losing a pregnancy—it’s about losing a part of you, your future, and all the dreams you had for that little life.

I’ve been there. I’ve sat in that waiting room with tears threatening to spill over. I’ve had those moments of disbelief where I had to keep telling myself, “This isn’t happening. This can’t be happening.” But it does. It happens, and it leaves a mark. A deep, gnawing one.

When you lose a pregnancy, the world wants to tell you, “It happens, it’s common, just try again.” But they don’t tell you that your heart still hurts, or that the emptiness lingers long after the bleeding stops. You’re expected to bounce back, like it’s no big deal, but it’s a huge deal. And it’s okay to not be okay with that.

Let’s face it: there’s no "right" way to grieve a pregnancy loss. It’s messy, unpredictable, and often very lonely. People who haven’t been through it may not understand the weight of the grief you’re carrying. It’s not just about the loss of a pregnancy, but about what could have been. The baby you were planning for, the nursery you never painted, the name you whispered in your mind.

And then there’s the part no one talks about—the shame. The “Did I do something wrong?” thoughts that creep in. The questioning of whether you could’ve prevented it. But let me tell you something: it’s not your fault. Your body isn’t broken. You’re not broken.

You may feel like your world is crashing down, and no matter what anyone tells you, it’s okay to let yourself feel all of it—anger, sadness, frustration, confusion. There’s no timeline for grief, no neat little path to follow. It comes in waves. One minute, you’re okay. The next, you’re overwhelmed by a simple trigger—a baby shower invitation, a pregnant friend, a commercial with a newborn. It’s okay. It’s normal to feel like a raw, emotional mess. There’s no “right” way to process the loss.

The grief is real, and the hurt doesn’t disappear overnight. But it’s important to remember that you will heal. It’s not about forgetting. It’s about learning to live with the loss and, eventually, finding ways to move forward in a way that feels right for you.

You don’t need to rush your healing. There’s no “right” amount of time to grieve, and no “wrong” way to feel about it. Take the time you need. If you feel like talking about it, talk. If you need to shut down for a while, do that too. If you need to scream, scream. Cry. Laugh. Whatever works.

And yes, you can still have hope. Hope for the future, hope for your next step in the journey. It’s okay to still want to be a parent, to still dream about your future family. But don’t let anyone tell you to “move on” too soon. Your grief, your way.

If you’re feeling like no one really gets it, I’m here. I’ve been through it too, and I know how isolating it can feel. Sometimes, all you need is someone to listen who actually gets it—no judgment, no clichés, just understanding. We’re all just trying to make sense of the mess.

Pregnancy loss is a journey, and it’s yours. There’s no need to hide it or cover it up. Your grief is as valid as your love for that baby, and it deserves to be honoured in all its messy, beautiful, painful forms. You’re not alone in this.

-Breanne

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