Each year as Christmas approaches I am reminded that one of my babies was due on December 17^th. Poignant are the memories of having empty arms on a Christmas morning when I thought I would be holding a precious newborn child. The season was filled with celebration and my heart was filled with sadness. It seems as if life often asks me to hold contradictions – joy and pain at the same time. Miscarriage was not new to me. Ten years earlier my first pregnancy ended after 4 months of carrying my daughter in my womb.

Miscarriage is often referred to as “the silent grief.” This was my experience as I was “consoled” by statements such as “You are young – you can have another” and “It wasn’t really a baby.” As months passed after each loss I was silently grieving as I watched life go on as usual for those around me. My first miscarriage was in April. The next month, on Mother’s Day, all the women who were mothers were asked to stand in church and receive a blessing. I thought to myself - Am I a mother? Do I stand? I did not stand. Instead I cried. Then someone who had been with me just after my miscarriage asked “Are you crying because you miss your mom on Mother’s Day?” How soon they forget. I quietly responded “No. I am crying because my baby died.”

Silent grief still needs to be shared… with a spouse, a friend, or a loving God. In miscarriage, not only has a child died, but dreams have been broken, innocence has been lost and new fears nestle in. The sadness from the death of a baby needs to find a way to express itself. Pain turned inward just grows deeper roots that can entangle the heart and spirit. Pain that is expressed and shared allows the heart to grow, giving it room to open up again.

There are many ways to honor your pain and your baby after a miscarriage. Here are a few: Name your child, wear a piece of jewelry representing your child (heart, angel, birthstone, etc.), hang a new piece of art in your home or wind chimes outside, purchase and light a special candle, cry, plant a tree or flowers, join a support group or online network, talk about your child and your feelings, spend time in prayer, journal, pick a day to honor your child each year (the date you found out you were pregnant, the miscarriage date or the due date). 

You may want to purchase a baby blanket or teddy bear, write a poem, read books and articles on miscarriage, make a memory box and put inside of it everything that reminds you of your baby (your positive pregnancy test, congratulations cards you received, a gestation wheel, doctor appointment cards, sonogram photos, etc.).

On holidays like Christmas and Mother’s Day, even your baby’s due date, purchase something you would have purchased for your baby and donate it to a women’s or child crisis center, and don’t forget to take some time to sit in the quiet and listen to the words that are whispered to you about how to honor your pain and your child.

About the author:

Patti Keough has worked in the field of grief for 15 years. She is the author of REMEMBERING OUR BABY. It is a journal for children who have had a sibling die before birth. Patti is also the owner of Blessing Pillow.  She lives in Mesa, AZ with her husband and four children.