Moving beyond statistics when experiencing loss through miscarriage & infertility.
We all hear about the amazing comforts of having a tribe of women: a group where you can laugh, cry, talk about anything and everything, and truly be yourself. I’m fortunate enough to have such a tribe. I’ve honestly been fortunate enough to have amazing relationships with women at different ages and stages in my life that have spanned decades, but I want to focus on one particular tribe of 8. I want to take you on a walk in our shoes.
My tribe of 8 is a group of amazing and strong women that come from a variety of backgrounds and career paths. There’s a mix of college degrees, advanced degrees, and degrees in life experiences. We’ve experienced marriage, divorce, and single life. Our broods include all girls, all boys, and mixtures of the two. We’ve got blended families, SAHMs, professional award recipients, and more. There are innumerable things that make us different, but the bonds of friendship intertwine this tribe. They have us celebrating birthdays, holidays, and other milestones in person and/or in spirit. These are the women I can count on whether I’m in celebration or crisis mode, but it’s one particular count that has me reeling for my tribe.
Yes, we are 8 women, and when you start looking at numbers, 1 of us is statistically expected to struggle with infertility. In the reality of my tribe, that statistic found a face in 3 of us. There’s another statistic that has found a face in nearly all of us though. In fact, we have overreached this statistical expectation numerous times.
They say that 1 in 4 women will experience a miscarriage in their lifetime. That would mean 2 of my tribe of 8 would be expected to experience this loss, but for my tribe of 8, that number is 7. That number is huge. That number is physically and emotionally devastating. That number is our harsh reality.
Again, we are a diverse tribe. Our experiences with miscarriages are equally diverse. We experienced loss with first pregnancies, last pregnancies, and pregnancies in between. We experienced loss during planned and unplanned pregnancies. We experienced loss while under the care of fertility specialists and while under the care of our regular OB/GYNs. We experienced grief behind closed doors and around crowded dinner tables. We experienced grief, anger, defeat. We all experienced these in different ways and at different times.
Although we all had different miscarriage experiences, we all got something we needed from our tribe. That need may have been filled with phone calls, text threads, loud and ugly tears, wine nights, hugs and hope, or simply a knowing look expressing You’ve got this, Friend, and I’ve got you. These women aided me in finding hope again and continuing my journey.
It’s hard being a statistic…
It’s hard when loss becomes reality, but it’s even harder when you feel alone in that unshakeable reality. I don’t know if my tribe truly is more or less representative of the experiences of others when it comes to miscarriage, but while I may have a tribe of 8, we are all part of a much larger tribe. We are all part of the tribe of motherhood.
If miscarriage or infertility is part of your journey, find comfort in your tribe. Yes, these experiences are personal and heartbreaking, but they don’t have to be isolating. Trust me, there is a tribe out there for you. If you aren’t finding the comfort you need, it may be time to expand your tribe to include more members or a dedicated support group for miscarriage and/or infertility.
So, yes, I have shed a lot of tears for and with my tribe, but these tears are foundational to our bond. I shed tears for my grief and for their grief. I shed tears for babies lost and for the gift of the many rainbow babies that came after loss. I shed tears for the beauty of these friendships that have evolved over the years with changes in locations, life stages, and everything in between. I shed tears of thanks for these 7 women that are my tribe.
