What a poignant read! I too had a miscarriage at 38, six years ago. There was no ‘rainbow baby’ to add to our brood, partly because biology and partly because I wasn’t sure I could cope with another loss. We went to adoption counselling and came very close to starting the process but in the end decided against it. I’m not necessarily one to look for things happening for a reason, but in the past couple of years my youngest child has needed us a lot. She’s the most amazing, beautiful and courageous girl but puberty hasn’t been kind to her and she is starting an autism assessment later this month. I do sometimes feel that I was meant to be available for her in a way that wouldn’t have been possible if she had had a much younger sibling.
This somehow brought out. a lot of stories of miscarriage plus some pregnancy surprises (not so much on Substack but friends who read my Substack). I know it is popular to say "these things happen for a reason" and it was commonly said to me, but I don't believe it, especially for those who never get any children at all. Bad luck is not a reason. But I CAN see that your story has a good side in the amount of time needed by your daughter. Heaven knows, most adolescents need a lot of maternal time (which I wasn't able to give, when i found myself with a needy 15 year old, a demanding two year old and two books on the go, whose deadlines loomed), so I wish you all good luck, Now I am the grandmother of two teenagers, I view it with a lot of sympathy but some distance.
Thanks for sharing your story Ann. I met my husband at 37 and by 39 we were trying for babies. Sadly the window had closed for me. Those years between 39 and 44 were some of the hardest of my life. At 44 I let go of that dream, and after a long journey with grief, recognised that life had a different pathway for me. I think these stories are important to share as this type of grief can be very invisible and isolating. I'm glad to hear your story had a happy ending. Mine did too I guess, just not in the conventional way....
Thanks for your story, Vicki. It sounds very painful for you. Yes, my story had a happy ending (although our son ended up being a huge handful and very different from our daughter!) including a wonderful grandson many years later. As a result of this post, I am learning about lots of different stories of miscarriages, unexpected births etc etc. We all move on in whatever way we can. I'm glad you can look back with some sense of a happy ending.
I'm working on a piece for my Stack for this weekend about a similar event in my life (miscarriage, not adoption). I was questioning whether I should finish and publish it because it's so personal, but you have inspired me to go ahead and do it. Thank you.
Well, I am pleased I have inspired you, but am wondering why you are hesitant. Is there some sort of shame or embarrassment attached to a miscarriage? To me, it is in the 'shit happens' category and has no shame attached. If that is your issue, why not write about that. It's actually a very interesting problem that some/many women feel some reluctance to talk about these things. I feel the same way about the reluctance to tell people you are pregnant because of the possibility of a miscarriage. My view is that if that happens, you WANT to share it with your friends. It is important to you. If you don't write about it, perhaps I will one day.
No, there’s no shame attached to a miscarriage. My first pregnancy was an ectopic pregnancy and the loss almost devastated me. Then I had a miscarriage. Like you, though, I went on to have a healthy son, who is a grown man today. My hesitance stems more from being vulnerable on the page. It’s something writers need to do to connect with their readers, though, so I’m going to go ahead and do it. Thanks!
You’ve given me an insight into my parents’ life. Mum so desperately wanted children. She had so many miscarriages. She had one child after four years and kept on trying for more. They eventually adopted and then she fell pregnant with me. Adoption definitely seems to help reduce the stress levels. But so difficult a situation in your case! You poor dear. Sigh. Thanks so much for sharing this with us.
Yes, it is often said that there is some connection between relaxing and getting pregnant - being accepted for adoption is almost like being approved for parenthood, although of course I was already a parent. It was a terrible night for me, but it is sort-of nice that I can turn it into 'copy' 40 years later.
This was a lovely, meaningful story. As a new subscriber I’m admiring of your clear, concise sentences. You convey the meaning without a lot of flowery flourishes. Your story did bring to mind the issues I had also. After all these years though, accepting the outcomes of the experiences I had has brought peace. You never forget but you do heal and you can be grateful for the(two living)blessings given.
Oddly enough, this was posted (but not written) on a day when the new Labour Government in Britain announced a certificate to recognise miscarriages. I doubt if that would have had much significance for me. No, you don't forget, but it is an odd sort of memory as you don't know a 'baby' you have carried for ten weeks.
Sixty-three years ago my future mother-in-law gave birth to a baby girl at the age of forty-seven. She was my wife’s younger sister, and in 1984 she became my sister-in-law. I know that her birth was “unplanned” but she was a beloved family member and friend. Six years ago she passed away suddenly. Her widower never changed the message on his answering machine and when either of us calls him there she is, speaking the same words every time. I know that it’s just a message recorded when she was here among us, but it’s still chilling to hear. I trust and believe that we’re going to see and hear her again someday when Jesus calls us up out of our graves. Thank you for sharing the story of the agonizing decision you had to make on the longest night.
Ann, I know that you can’t help but love the baby that, to your great sorrow, was lost to you before you ever got a chance to see and hold him or her. I know someday you’ll find that child, just as we will find our departed sister Sam.
What a story Ann, and told so well. I like the way you let factual descriptions do the heavy lifting when it came to expressing feelings and emotions. I could see you struggling to make a decision during that long night, and the courage it took to say no to something you really wanted because of the grief and pain of loss. Thank you for sharing such a personal story, I couldn't stop reading it.
Thanks, Amy. It is interesting that one can express feelings through descriptions without describing the feelings. I have never been taught to do so, but it just feels right to let the story tell the emotional story. You did so, too.
I honor you for your selfless decision. You touched upon the pain - most people don't realize how deep that pain goes. I mourned every unfertilized egg and even dreamed about them. I married late and we adopted, although the 4 months from acceptance to beloved baby-in-arms was also hard. But how lucky we were! It's tough trying to get pregnant these days - most are blaming it on environmental toxins. It's also tough trying to adopt - a friend was turned down because her BMI was too high and she looks perfectly normal to me. We need to open the whole process up to provide a loving home for the many orphans created daily through wars and climate disasters. I'm glad research into treatment for trauma is making gains and getting press, because we humans are creating too many traumatized children. Sorry to spiral down, but children don't have enough lobbyists and we often seem to forget that children are our future.
I am not sure my decision was selfless. You could say it was and/or it wasn’t. All I will say is that it was damned hard! But you are right that we need to offer homes to loads of kids who don’t have them, although my time for doing so (at age 82) has long passed.
I love the simple yet so effective way you wrote this essay. about such fundamental subjects.
"I was still too affected by the death to be ready for life."
My wife and I were very young when we had our children. Now we worry about our kids having kids. To quote from a Bob Seeger song, "I wish I didn't know now what i didn't know then."
Thanks for the restack – and I like that quote. We worry about them all - children, grandchildren, the lot. But funnily enough, they do survive pretty damn well. My oldest grandson has just gone off to university, which makes me feel older than God.
Fascinating how we arrive at life-altering decisions. Had you chosen to adopt, you would likely have come to feel you made the right choice. You couldn’t unwish that baby girl. Yet the choice you made, and fully accept, came to you with stunning clarity. Thank you for sharing this process with your readers.
Rona, you have an uncanny way of putting your finger on the right button. You're absolutely right. Had my mind turned in the opposite direction that night, I would be writing about this wonderful baby girl we adopted 40 plus years ago.
I am regularly fascinated by the decisions that we make - or are made for us - that turn our lives on a dime. Indeed, I wrote some time ago about how my failure to get into Radcliffe, which left me feeling a failure at the age of 17, meant that I ended up going to London many many moons ago, meeting my English husband, living in England for most of my life and having my English family (see https://arichardson.substack.com/p/counterfactuals). My 14 year old grandson loves these stories since, as he rightly says, without the very particular turns of events, he would never have been born.
What a gift to share this story and all these years later be able to assure your son was very much wanted. As usual your gift as an author treated this sensitive topic beautifully.
My last child (of 6) was a surprise at age 42. Now, my youngest daughter just turned 30 and is getting married in 10 days. I know a child will soon be on the way, but in the back of my mind, I worry, "What if she can't conceive?" All conceptions, births and miscarriages are miracles in so many ways. I'm glad your story had a happy ending.
Yes, we never stop worrying about our children and their lives. Will they conceive? Will the baby be OK? Will they be good parents? it goes on and on until we stop. My oldest grandson has just started university and it is lovely to see him somehow launched into the world.
What a poignant read! I too had a miscarriage at 38, six years ago. There was no ‘rainbow baby’ to add to our brood, partly because biology and partly because I wasn’t sure I could cope with another loss. We went to adoption counselling and came very close to starting the process but in the end decided against it. I’m not necessarily one to look for things happening for a reason, but in the past couple of years my youngest child has needed us a lot. She’s the most amazing, beautiful and courageous girl but puberty hasn’t been kind to her and she is starting an autism assessment later this month. I do sometimes feel that I was meant to be available for her in a way that wouldn’t have been possible if she had had a much younger sibling.
This somehow brought out. a lot of stories of miscarriage plus some pregnancy surprises (not so much on Substack but friends who read my Substack). I know it is popular to say "these things happen for a reason" and it was commonly said to me, but I don't believe it, especially for those who never get any children at all. Bad luck is not a reason. But I CAN see that your story has a good side in the amount of time needed by your daughter. Heaven knows, most adolescents need a lot of maternal time (which I wasn't able to give, when i found myself with a needy 15 year old, a demanding two year old and two books on the go, whose deadlines loomed), so I wish you all good luck, Now I am the grandmother of two teenagers, I view it with a lot of sympathy but some distance.
Thanks for sharing your story Ann. I met my husband at 37 and by 39 we were trying for babies. Sadly the window had closed for me. Those years between 39 and 44 were some of the hardest of my life. At 44 I let go of that dream, and after a long journey with grief, recognised that life had a different pathway for me. I think these stories are important to share as this type of grief can be very invisible and isolating. I'm glad to hear your story had a happy ending. Mine did too I guess, just not in the conventional way....
Thanks for your story, Vicki. It sounds very painful for you. Yes, my story had a happy ending (although our son ended up being a huge handful and very different from our daughter!) including a wonderful grandson many years later. As a result of this post, I am learning about lots of different stories of miscarriages, unexpected births etc etc. We all move on in whatever way we can. I'm glad you can look back with some sense of a happy ending.
I'm working on a piece for my Stack for this weekend about a similar event in my life (miscarriage, not adoption). I was questioning whether I should finish and publish it because it's so personal, but you have inspired me to go ahead and do it. Thank you.
Well, I am pleased I have inspired you, but am wondering why you are hesitant. Is there some sort of shame or embarrassment attached to a miscarriage? To me, it is in the 'shit happens' category and has no shame attached. If that is your issue, why not write about that. It's actually a very interesting problem that some/many women feel some reluctance to talk about these things. I feel the same way about the reluctance to tell people you are pregnant because of the possibility of a miscarriage. My view is that if that happens, you WANT to share it with your friends. It is important to you. If you don't write about it, perhaps I will one day.
Hi Ann,
No, there’s no shame attached to a miscarriage. My first pregnancy was an ectopic pregnancy and the loss almost devastated me. Then I had a miscarriage. Like you, though, I went on to have a healthy son, who is a grown man today. My hesitance stems more from being vulnerable on the page. It’s something writers need to do to connect with their readers, though, so I’m going to go ahead and do it. Thanks!
You’ve given me an insight into my parents’ life. Mum so desperately wanted children. She had so many miscarriages. She had one child after four years and kept on trying for more. They eventually adopted and then she fell pregnant with me. Adoption definitely seems to help reduce the stress levels. But so difficult a situation in your case! You poor dear. Sigh. Thanks so much for sharing this with us.
Yes, it is often said that there is some connection between relaxing and getting pregnant - being accepted for adoption is almost like being approved for parenthood, although of course I was already a parent. It was a terrible night for me, but it is sort-of nice that I can turn it into 'copy' 40 years later.
This was a lovely, meaningful story. As a new subscriber I’m admiring of your clear, concise sentences. You convey the meaning without a lot of flowery flourishes. Your story did bring to mind the issues I had also. After all these years though, accepting the outcomes of the experiences I had has brought peace. You never forget but you do heal and you can be grateful for the(two living)blessings given.
Oddly enough, this was posted (but not written) on a day when the new Labour Government in Britain announced a certificate to recognise miscarriages. I doubt if that would have had much significance for me. No, you don't forget, but it is an odd sort of memory as you don't know a 'baby' you have carried for ten weeks.
And thanks for the restack.
Sixty-three years ago my future mother-in-law gave birth to a baby girl at the age of forty-seven. She was my wife’s younger sister, and in 1984 she became my sister-in-law. I know that her birth was “unplanned” but she was a beloved family member and friend. Six years ago she passed away suddenly. Her widower never changed the message on his answering machine and when either of us calls him there she is, speaking the same words every time. I know that it’s just a message recorded when she was here among us, but it’s still chilling to hear. I trust and believe that we’re going to see and hear her again someday when Jesus calls us up out of our graves. Thank you for sharing the story of the agonizing decision you had to make on the longest night.
Thank-you, Rafael. Yes, unplanned certainly doesn't mean unloved. Babies are babies and you can't help loving them once they are here.
Ann, I know that you can’t help but love the baby that, to your great sorrow, was lost to you before you ever got a chance to see and hold him or her. I know someday you’ll find that child, just as we will find our departed sister Sam.
What a lovely story, Ann.
Thanks so much, Diana.
What a story Ann, and told so well. I like the way you let factual descriptions do the heavy lifting when it came to expressing feelings and emotions. I could see you struggling to make a decision during that long night, and the courage it took to say no to something you really wanted because of the grief and pain of loss. Thank you for sharing such a personal story, I couldn't stop reading it.
Thanks, Amy. It is interesting that one can express feelings through descriptions without describing the feelings. I have never been taught to do so, but it just feels right to let the story tell the emotional story. You did so, too.
I honor you for your selfless decision. You touched upon the pain - most people don't realize how deep that pain goes. I mourned every unfertilized egg and even dreamed about them. I married late and we adopted, although the 4 months from acceptance to beloved baby-in-arms was also hard. But how lucky we were! It's tough trying to get pregnant these days - most are blaming it on environmental toxins. It's also tough trying to adopt - a friend was turned down because her BMI was too high and she looks perfectly normal to me. We need to open the whole process up to provide a loving home for the many orphans created daily through wars and climate disasters. I'm glad research into treatment for trauma is making gains and getting press, because we humans are creating too many traumatized children. Sorry to spiral down, but children don't have enough lobbyists and we often seem to forget that children are our future.
I am not sure my decision was selfless. You could say it was and/or it wasn’t. All I will say is that it was damned hard! But you are right that we need to offer homes to loads of kids who don’t have them, although my time for doing so (at age 82) has long passed.
Ann,
I love the simple yet so effective way you wrote this essay. about such fundamental subjects.
"I was still too affected by the death to be ready for life."
My wife and I were very young when we had our children. Now we worry about our kids having kids. To quote from a Bob Seeger song, "I wish I didn't know now what i didn't know then."
Thanks for the restack – and I like that quote. We worry about them all - children, grandchildren, the lot. But funnily enough, they do survive pretty damn well. My oldest grandson has just gone off to university, which makes me feel older than God.
Fascinating how we arrive at life-altering decisions. Had you chosen to adopt, you would likely have come to feel you made the right choice. You couldn’t unwish that baby girl. Yet the choice you made, and fully accept, came to you with stunning clarity. Thank you for sharing this process with your readers.
Rona, you have an uncanny way of putting your finger on the right button. You're absolutely right. Had my mind turned in the opposite direction that night, I would be writing about this wonderful baby girl we adopted 40 plus years ago.
I am regularly fascinated by the decisions that we make - or are made for us - that turn our lives on a dime. Indeed, I wrote some time ago about how my failure to get into Radcliffe, which left me feeling a failure at the age of 17, meant that I ended up going to London many many moons ago, meeting my English husband, living in England for most of my life and having my English family (see https://arichardson.substack.com/p/counterfactuals). My 14 year old grandson loves these stories since, as he rightly says, without the very particular turns of events, he would never have been born.
What a gift to share this story and all these years later be able to assure your son was very much wanted. As usual your gift as an author treated this sensitive topic beautifully.
Thanks, Pat. It was a dramatic night that somehow needed telling.
My last child (of 6) was a surprise at age 42. Now, my youngest daughter just turned 30 and is getting married in 10 days. I know a child will soon be on the way, but in the back of my mind, I worry, "What if she can't conceive?" All conceptions, births and miscarriages are miracles in so many ways. I'm glad your story had a happy ending.
Yes, we never stop worrying about our children and their lives. Will they conceive? Will the baby be OK? Will they be good parents? it goes on and on until we stop. My oldest grandson has just started university and it is lovely to see him somehow launched into the world.