Let’s All Stop the Stigma of Miscarriage

I do not understand why we tell newly-pregnant women not to tell anyone they’re pregnant until after the first trimester. The reason most often given is because the risk of miscarriage is so high. Is it just me or are those two things not even remotely related?

I’ve become a list-maker out of necessity. Lately, it’s the only way I can organize my thoughts, so here’s my list of reasons why waiting to tell people you’re pregnant is a dumb idea.

1. Keeping quiet perpetuates the feelings of fault and shame that accompany miscarriage. To me, this approach to pregnancy and miscarriage is Medieval (or Victorian? Or Colonial? I don’t know my era’s…)…it’s OLD and OUTDATED. It’s like how women used to try not to make any noise during childbirth; as if women are supposed to say, “Don’t mind me, I’m just the newly-pregnant woman who’s worried about miscarrying so I’m suffering in silence over here in the corner! Don’t let me bother you with my fears or symptoms!” If she didn’t tell anyone she was pregnant, she’s even less likely to tell someone she no longer is. And thus, now she’s marinating in that cesspool of shame that also accompanies the loss of a pregnancy. Since she’s not supposed to bother anyone with her good news in the early weeks, how could she possibly bother anyone with her grief? Who is going to reassure her that it’s not her fault and tell her that it’s ok to talk about miscarriage? How is she ever going to know how many of her female friends (like maybe 100% of them) have also gone through this if no one talks about it? Don’t even get me started on the lack of sex education in America…she might really believe it’s her fault on a biological level and by not mentioning it–maybe not even to her doctor–no one will ever assure her that it’s not. 
2. This second one is related to the first but slightly different: Keeping quiet about miscarriage isolates you in your grief. Rest assured, if you miscarry, you will grieve. Even if you are 16 or it’s an unwanted pregnancy, you will still grieve. Don’t you want the support of those who love you most when things are hard? If no one knew you were pregnant, you will now find yourself without the tribe you need to support you. Sure, maybe the father knew you were pregnant, but you need your girls for this one. The bottom line is that keeping the pregnancy secret isolates the woman with all of her feelings, and that kind of loneliness isn’t good or healthy for anyone.
3. Keeping quiet about your pregnancy because you might miscarry perpetuates the stigma of miscarriage. Miscarriage is normal. I didn’t say it was nice or a good thing; I said it’s normal. Meaning it happens in a predictable percentage of women. You know what else is normal? The percentage of people who get the flu after getting a flu shot. It wasn’t the desired outcome, but you don’t see those people keeping quiet about whether they got the flu shot until their risk of getting the flu has passed. No one stigmatizes the flu or blames the ill person. It’s just a normal, although unwanted, outcome. What if we thought about pregnancy and miscarriage like that? Or, we could all hire professional photographers in June after the risk of flu has passed to take the “No Flu!” announcement photos to splatter across social media. No? That seems ridiculous? Then you get my point.
4. Keeping your pregnancy quiet creates awkward social and work situations. In the early days you might throw up in your office trash can (or in my case in 2010, the Massachusetts Court of Appeals’ trash can. During an oral argument). You might need to drink ginger ale constantly. You might need all new clothes because you start showing at five weeks like I did with my twins. You might have made plans with a girlfriend to sit in her hot tub and drink wine. You might go to a catered work lunch where there are only nitrate-packed cold cuts and diet soda. In short, a lot of situations will likely present themselves where you’ll have to conduct yourself differently than you otherwise would. People ask questions, usually with good intentions, and lying gets tedious. Imagine a world instead where you could just tell people you were pregnant. A world where no one pesters you to just be fun and have a drink, or heckles you for being so good about your diet as you refuse the cold cuts, or points out that you’ve put on a few pounds (not everyone had good intentions).
5. Talking about pregnancy from its beginnings normalizes it. I sincerely feel that we have pathologized pregnancy in America. I think some women keep it quiet because of our abysmal maternity leave policies. Working women need time to figure out what to say to whom and when. However, I don’t think that’s the top reason we keep it quiet at all. In America we have more restrictions on what pregnant women can and cannot do, eat, drink, etc. than anywhere else. Serena Williams famously fought U.S. Tennis over their classification of pregnancy and the post-partum months as an “injury,” and yet, that is how pregnant women are treated. In many ways, pregnancy is a major medical event akin to other ailments, although pregnancy is certainly not a disease. That being said, if you have a stomach bug, you say, “I stayed in bed all day today because I have a stomach bug.” Why can’t we say, “I stayed in bed all day today because I have morning sickness, and the name of that is a big fat lie because it lasted all damn day?” Imagine a world where we could say, “I just need a pep talk before this big meeting because I’m newly pregnant, and I’m emotional,” or “I’m afraid of miscarrying, so I want to come out for your birthday but I might not be fully myself.” What if sharing those feelings and symptoms were totally normal, the same way we complain about how badly poison ivy itches, or how hard Crossfit was this morning? What if we just made it normal to talk about?
6. When you are newly pregnant but keep it quiet, you deprive others of the chance to hold you in their thoughts. I believe in the power of positive thinking. You might call it prayer or meditation. Whatever you call it, and however you communicate with the universe, God, a higher power, your soul, the souls of others…however you have that dialogue, it’s powerful. Don’t women deserve that power at this magical time? If you’re grateful to be pregnant, aren’t there friends and family members who share that gratitude and want to give praise for it? If you’re scared about your pregnancy, aren’t there friends and family members who share your fears, and want to turn them over to whatever they call it (God, the universe, etc.)?  By training women not to talk about pregnancy for about three months, we deprive ourselves of all of this positive energy, and that’s an immense, immeasurable loss.

In sum, I feel like 2019 more than any other time is all about self-improvement and positive thinking, and yet with respect to pregnancy, we continue to be ruled by fear. In no other area of modern life can I think of a societal norm so focused on worst case scenarios. I have seen a small shift with some of my younger, twenty-something friends: they often quietly announce their pregnancies at around 8 weeks, with a social media announcement (curated and professionally photographed) before the first trimester. I continue to hear whispers though, along the lines of “I can’t believe she’s telling people. It’s so early!” So the next time a friend tells me she’s pregnant, regardless of how far along she is, I’m going to encourage her to tell everyone immediately, because this is something to celebrate! And if she loses the baby, the tribe that props her up will be that much larger. There is strength in numbers, so let’s work together like the force we are, stop living in fear, and erase the stigma of miscarriage.