Miscarriage Story
I want to share my story with honesty and in honour of the soul who briefly joined our family
🤍
And to honour all the women who have also experienced a loss, your grief matters, you are seen.
We had been trying for months, just like we had for our 1st pregnancy.
When I saw the positive test, a wave of relief and joy came over me.
The doctor confirmed the pregnancy.
I didn’t have much nausea, but I didn’t with my first either, and after the nausea-filled second pregnancy, I was grateful.
That summer felt sweet.
We enjoyed life and went camping for a week of holidays.
One morning, I took a peaceful walk through the trees. Just me and the baby.
I could feel the soul with me.
I thanked them for choosing me and told them I was so excited to meet them.
That moment is still so vivid. 💕
The next day, I noticed spotting.
Panic hit.
I found my husband at the beach with our kids and told him.
He reassured me, and we made the decision to pack up and head home early.
The spotting stopped before we got home.
I felt a little hope again.
But the next day, it returned.
I went to the doctor, and she sent me for an ultrasound.
My husband met me there with our two children.
The ultrasound showed I was 10 weeks pregnant, and no heart beat.
The baby had stopped growing at 6 weeks.
“There’s no baby,” they said.
I could see the heartbreak all over my husband's face.
That was so hard to hear. Because I had felt the soul. I knew they were with me.
About a week later, I was in the middle of a haircut.
It felt like a turning point, a transition, off with the old.
Then the contractions started.
I didn’t expect that kind of pain. I thought it would be like period cramps.
It wasn’t. It was actual, undeniable contractions.
I got to my mom’s to pick up the kids.
She and my aunty brought us home.
Shortly after, I passed the embryo in our ensuite bathroom while my family sat at the table, on the other side of the wall, eating supper, keeping things “normal” for my 2 and 1-year-old.
I knew I was held in love, but also alone in that moment.
I still regret flushing. I didn’t know what to do. I had to get back to the kids as they were asking where mom was.
That was the end of my pregnancy, and it didn’t feel like enough.
No goodbye.
No ceremony.
Just… over.
An ending that came too fast.
I grieved for a long time.
During a BodyTalk session, in the midst of the miscariage, the practitioner shared that the soul had come to learn about unconditional love and acceptance.
The soul had felt that love and acceptance, and they were ready to move on.
That message brought comfort.
It affirmed what I had felt on that walk.
That we really had connected.
Last week, a homeopathy practitioner shared that I might still be living with the shock and regret of that experience.
That I need a ceremony, not just for the soul, but for me.
To honour the loss.
To heal the regret.
So, my son and I have planned a simple moment.
A quiet family goodbye.
Miscarriage is deeply personal.
Being told they're “common” doesn’t ease the pain.
What does help is being seen and time.
Being heard.
Having space to grieve in your own way.
If this is part of your story too, I’m here
to listen, to hold space, to honour your experience. Message me I’m here to listen.
Nicole ♡
