sharing your stories and remembering your children
By Nick Carrington
UK women’s basketball coach Kyra Elzy recently discussed her six heartbreaking miscarriages. In the piece, two themes emerge from her comments. The first is that losing the child in womb is traumatic. Elzy even says she thought about harming herself.
“And then the fourth one [in 2015]... that was the one that probably just broke me," Elzy said. "We went in to get the ultrasound and hear the heartbeat and there was no heartbeat. And at that moment, I was literally like... I thought I was going to die."
Elzy says she was on suicide watch at that moment and couldn't get out of bed or sleep.
Her pain is not of someone who lost hopes and dreams but of those who lost sons and daughters. Elzy and her husband adopted, but the pregnancy loss didn’t stop there. As she discussed two more miscarriages and how devastated she was, the second theme emerged: loss parents too often have to grieve alone.
"The thing about miscarriage, nobody can grieve with you, so it's not like I had a physical baby I could show someone," she said. "If I had a stillborn, people could come to a funeral. It's hard for people to grieve with you, it's like... it didn't happen."
In Elzy’s painful story, we see the reality: miscarriage is traumatic and grieving alone often makes that trauma worse. We encourage you to read the entire piece
By Nick Carrington
Hope Blooms Editor
I wish I knew.
Not that I would have known what to say or do at first, but the shock of it all was a lot. When my friends and siblings started getting pregnant, I couldn’t conceive of anyone losing a child. There were only good vibes and happy endings to come.
It came in waves. Family and friends, a few connections to my students. So many lost children with parents struggling in the wake. Everywhere I looked, there was grief. Before that time, miscarriage was a foreign term, something that happened outside my circle to an unlucky few. Then, in six months or so, I knew five, six, seven families all swimming through pain, trying to make sense of what had happened and what it meant.
I wish I knew.
But now I realize that knowing isn’t enough. Knowing how common miscarriages are would have lessened the shock, but it wouldn’t have taught me how to respond. It wouldn’t have taught me how to play a role, however small, in the healing process for those I cared about.
I wish I knew, but my desire didn’t stop there. With each miscarriage, I longed for peace, a sense of wholeness for my loved ones, even if that wasn’t possible. I wish I knew how to ease their burdens, celebrate their children, and be there for them.
As we come out of miscarriage awareness month, we must remember that making people aware is just the first step, though a necessary one. They also need to know how to care for and love on hurting families. The EPLA exists so that no one has to suffer through the pain of miscarriage alone. As an organization, we can’t address every need for loss parents, but we can prepare others to help their loved ones.
Awareness is key, but it’s not enough. Join us as we seek to build a community that understands the complexities of miscarriage and seeks to lift the burdens of those afflicted.