I exercised, I ate right, I took care of my body in all aspects that were under my control.
Adding insult to injury was all of the unsolicited advice, comments and input from others. Since my son was seven years old, people who’d say things like:
“You know it’s time for you to have a girl.”
“Hey, maybe you miscarried because you exercised too much. Stop exercising and try again.”
“I don’t know what’s wrong with you. I never had your problems.”
I reached a point so low that I started contemplating suicide. I even attempted it once by sitting in a running car with the garage down. The only thing that snapped me out of it was the thought of my son coming home from school and finding me dead. This was the point at which I finally sought help from a mental health professional.
Through therapy, it didn’t take long for me to realize that I was grieving, had been doing so for a long time and that I also had been doing it all alone.
Acknowledging and embracing the grieving process was the most critical step to my emotional and mental healing. Through this ongoing process, I began to accept my life for what it was, let go of what I couldn’t control and find more joy and happiness along the way.
Miscarriage generally induces an intense period of emotional distress so it only stood to reason that recurrent pregnancy losses could result in long-lasting mental health problems. For me, this reality was further magnified by the presumption that I was doing all things ‘right’ in terms of exercising, eating well, and taking good care of my physical health.
Given that I found myself experiencing recurrent miscarriages despite my good physical condition, I began to think that I was somehow cursed and perhaps destined for reproductive failure. These negative feelings and thoughts further magnified my ongoing depression and anxiety.