Recently, Chrissy Teigen posted on Instagram photo about losing her x-month old baby. Prior to that, she had hinted of some problems with the pregnancy, but she was her usual cheeky self, so we all assumed that it was eventually resolved.
Her photos and caption were heartbreaking, to say the least. Sympathies were sent from all over the world. But almost immediately, there was also backlash from some insensitive people in the Internet, questioning why Chrissy had to make her loss public, how she did it to get more “likes”, etc. This is the world we live in now, ‘no? Whatever you post in social media, everyone will have opinions either way, but Chrissy’s particularly, hit a chord with me.
Mothers all around the world who have experienced miscarriage can certainly relate to her pain. It is something that we carry in our hearts forever. Ask any mother who’s lost a baby during pregnancy, and they will be able to tell you their story, as clear as the day it happened. Today I share mine.
My Story
The year before we got blessed with Katie, I got pregnant. JP and I had wanted to start our family, but with my PCOS, it proved to be quite difficult to do so. We got a positive pregnancy test in the Philippines over the Christmas holidays and when we got back to Singapore, immediately booked a check up with our doctor, a stoic lady whom I researched was a specialist on PCOS-related pregnancies. Our first scan just showed a small blob, and the doctor said it was too soon to detect a heartbeat and that we had to go back a week later to check again.
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Greeted 2014 in bed due to fever and fatigueIt was on the second scan that we were told they could not detect a heartbeat, and the emrbyo did not grow. I told the doctor that maybe we can wait a few more days just to see again, because I’ve read stories on the Internet about how some moms whose pregnancies went full-term even though there was no heartbeat at the start. This is me holding on to the hope that they baby would live. I could sense the doctor’s frustration with me, but I firmly insisted that we wait. When I got home, I prayed so hard for the baby to live. In the shower, I talked to the baby and told him (I felt it was going to be a boy) to be strong.
A few days later came, and again a visit to the doctor. Unfortunately, it was confirmed that the embryo did not get bigger, and still no heartbeat. The doctor told me to I’d have to go for the D&C already. To reassure me, the doctor said that almost 20% of new pregnancies end up in miscarriage. It wasn’t anything I did or ate, sometimes the embryo is just not viable to proceed to a full term.
Amid the numbness I felt, I agreed. The procedure was quite fast. I did not even have to stay in the hospital. Just given some medicine and told to go home to rest. John was there beside me all throughout. I sensed his sadness, but I could not talk to him about the heartbreak I felt. And I’m sure he had his own pain too.
In the shower, I had a good cry–about what could have been, and I did feel that it was MY fault. This body that I had was defective. All those bad things I did to my body–smoking, alcohol, diet pills, unhealthy food, everything I did before made my body not suitable to house a child. I caused this heartbreak. It’s a child I will never get to know, always will think about how he would have looked, how he would have been.
On the outside, I could rationalize it. The statistics, the research I found on the internet all confirmed that the doctor was right. I even told John about it, and I’m sure he did his own research. But on the inside, this cloud was all over me, these thoughts consumed me, about how all of it was my fault.
When John and I found out about the pregnancy, we agreed not to announce it to the world until we were sure. Just a few family members knew of it, and therefore, few people consoled us when we lost him. But I wouldn’t have had it any other way because I wouldn’t have been able to handle the sympathies that we would have gotten. I guess we chose to deal with it in our own way.
Over time, and especially when we had Katie, I got more comfortable talking about my loss, when discussions about miscarriage come up. I can talk about it without tears, surely. But of course, the pain is there.
Conclusion
So this very public thing that Chrissy has done is actually impressive. She gave a voice to mothers who have lost their own babies, because some mothers cannot talk about it. Some feel ashamed, because it is seen as a failure. Miscarriage is something that a lot of people avoid or feel uncomfortable with, because it shouldn’t be.
Mothers should be able to talk about it openly (if they want to), without fear of shame, because it is part of our story as women, as mothers. It is a big loss that parents, especially moms, carry the rest of their lives. Believe me, moms loved these little beings the moment they found out they were pregnant. And that never goes away. This loss is the same as if they lost a child who lived.
This is Chrissy’s story to tell however she wants to. If that means to tell the whole world about her experience, to lessen the pain, then why not let her be. At the end of the day, the only proper response to this is KINDNESS. If we do that, then maybe more mothers will be more comfortable telling their own stories, and in the process get the healing they deserve.
