This article is part of the Here. Now. essay series, which seeks to de-stigmatize mental health treatment, and improve accessibility to treatment and support for teens and parents in metropolitan New York.
When Emily Fauver went into her first sonogram appointment, she was excited to see her baby for the first time. However, it didn’t go as planned–and when she finally saw her scan, she immediately knew something was wrong.
“This was a day my husband and I had been waiting for, for over a year… But these images were different… something was wrong. I saw nothing because my body was just hours away from miscarrying.”
She continued to explain the tragic situation:
“My doctor didn’t let me leave without warning and she was right about everything. But what she didn’t warn me about was everything that would happen after the initial heartbreak and pain.
She didn’t tell me I was going to be reminded for weeks to come because my body was going to take that long to ‘clean out.’ She didn’t tell me I was going to have to watch my husband weep. She didn’t tell me how hard it was going to be to tell my mom what had happened. She didn’t tell me that my body was going to continue thinking it was pregnant for weeks to come. She didn’t tell me how hard it was going be to tell people I was fine when I wasn’t. She didn’t tell me that this was going to make me a jealous person over-night. She didn’t tell me how much harder the question ‘when are you having kids?’ was going to be. And she didn’t tell me that it was going to be so hard losing someone I had never met.
But she did tell me it was okay to cry and she did tell me that I wasn’t alone.
Miscarriages are SO real and so common, in fact, one out of four women experience a miscarriage; but don’t let that confuse you into thinking it hurts any less. As large as this statistic is, I still felt alone and I have finally figured out why: because no one talks about it.”
What Fauver says is entirely true and heartbreakingly authentic–pregnancy loss is traumatic, and not enough people realize how traumatic it truly is. It’s important for women, like Fauver, to come out and share their stories as a way to raise awareness–and allow themselves to be vulnerable in order to deal with their trauma. This is precisely why her post is going viral, because people connect to her–and realize the need for stories like this to be circulated.
She echoed this sentiment, stating:
“It wasn’t until I started talking about it to my friends and family that I slowly realized I wasn’t alone. People may wonder why I choose to talk about this after months have passed, but it’s the harsh reality that time really doesn’t heal all wounds so I am hoping sharing my story will help with the healing process. . . . I am sharing this so that maybe one less woman will feel alone and use this as a reminder or message that there is hope after this heartbreak.
I hope that you celebrate that baby’s life as much as you celebrate the next because no matter how short a life, all life deserves to be celebrated and all loss should be mourned.”
I hope others take note of her honesty and ability to open up about a difficult situation. No one should suffer alone.
This post is part of the Here.Now series, which seeks to destigmatize mental health,
and is made possible by UJA-Federation of New York and The Jewish Board.
You can find other educational mental health resources here.