I never thought I’d write about miscarriage. Not because it’s rare, or because I thought it could never happen to me, but because—like so many others—I never realized just how much silence surrounds it.
If you’re reading this, chances are you (or someone you adore) have faced a pregnancy loss. And if you haven’t, the statistics might surprise you. According to a recent CBC article on miscarriage care, about 15% of pregnancies end before 14 weeks. That’s not a typo—it’s one in six, if you’re trying to do the math. So why do so many of us feel alone in it?
The Elephant in the Room: Why We Don’t Talk About It
Let’s be real: miscarriage feels like it exists in a silent club no one asks to join. Society tells us we “shouldn’t announce until 12 weeks”—but when loss hits, we’re left grieving in silence, unsure who to turn to. The CBC article highlights that depression, anxiety, and even PTSD are heartbreakingly common for people navigating pregnancy loss. But most of us just… keep going, pretending everything’s fine.
Why? Maybe because we don’t want to burden others. Or maybe we think we’re the only ones who feel this way. That couldn’t be further from the truth.
New Guidelines—and Why They Matter for Real People
The Society of Obstetricians and Gynaecologists of Canada (SOGC) has released fresh care guidelines, finally telling doctors what many of us have craved for years: real, compassionate support for miscarriage and pregnancy loss. The hope? Better mental health outcomes and a soft place to land for those in need.
But what does that look like in “real life”? It means: - Support groups, not just pamphlets. - Honest conversations in doctor’s offices. - Referral to mental health care, not just “try again next month.”
Open Loop: But What If You’re Not Ready for the Clinic?
Here’s the part that kept me up at night—what about families who aren’t ready or able to go back to a clinic? Maybe the thought of fluorescent lights and cold exam tables makes your skin crawl. Or you’re just not ready to see another ultrasound wand for a while. So how do you even begin to heal… or try again?
Scanning the Options: You Deserve Choices
This is where I wish someone had told me earlier: you’re allowed to take your time. You’re allowed to grieve, to lean on your people (even if they’re internet friends!), and to explore new paths to parenthood at your own pace.
For those considering trying again, at-home options are gaining so much momentum—and for good reason. I was blown away to learn about companies like MakeAMom’s at-home insemination kits, which are designed for couples and individuals who want control, privacy, and flexibility. Their kits are reusable (huge bonus for the planet and your wallet), and they package discreetly, respecting the very privacy that so many of us crave after loss. Plus, they provide thorough instructions and resources, so you don’t feel like you’re fumbling in the dark.
Could this be a solution for everyone? Of course not. But it means more power and choice in a process that often feels out of your control. And after navigating loss, even a little bit of that power back can feel revolutionary.
Healing Is Messy—And That’s Okay
Let’s bust the biggest myth of all: there’s no one way to recover from miscarriage. Some people jump back into trying, some take years. Some are open about every detail, others are deeply private. Whatever you feel? It’s valid.
Here are a few things that helped me (and others in our Nestful community): - Talking to someone—even if you think you don’t want to. (Online forums, teletherapy, or just texting a friend at midnight.) - Exploring resources tailor-made for grieving parents. (SOGC’s new guidelines are a start, but there are also support groups and online communities.) - Allowing yourself to not “move on”—but to move forward, at your own pace. - Trying again when (and if) you’re ready, with the right people and tools beside you.
The Real Takeaway: You’re Not Alone
If there’s one thing I wish every reader would take away, it’s that there’s hope—and an army of people ready to support you. Whether that’s a specialized clinic, a caring partner, or an online group, you’re not expected to go through this in silence.
And if you’re looking for alternatives to the clinic experience and want to explore what’s next, don’t be afraid to check out stories and resources on MakeAMom’s official site. It’s about knowing your options, finding what feels right, and reclaiming a bit of hope at your own pace.
Have you experienced loss, or are you supporting someone who has? What’s one thing you wish people understood about miscarriage and healing? Drop your thoughts or questions in the comments—let’s break the silence together.