Dad's Feelings About Miscarriage

It can hit you at the weirdest times. It just does. And when it does, it gives you an emotional chill like a shadow passing by.

I was driving my wife to work today as we often do in the morning and it hit me. She was going through Facebook and scrolling by a picture of some old friends with their kids. I asked, “Don’t they have four kids now?” They do. And then it hit me. We could too. Or could have. But don’t.

We’ve come such a long way – many years and thousands of miles from a phone call to my work one night. Something was wrong and my wife knew it. Through her tears she asked me to come get her. I left work right away. I found her in a stall in the women’s room at Boston University where she worked, crying, her clothes soaked through with blood. I took her to the doctor but by then she knew, we knew, how could you not know?

She had suffered a miscarriage. It would have been our first baby as a newly married couple.

Of course, my wife was physically okay and that was most important. We were assured we could try again at some point when the time was right. That was important, too. In the meantime, we went home for a couple of days and hid ourselves in takeout and movies and self-pity. We told the few family members who already knew she was pregnant. But let’s face it, there’s not a whole lot someone can say or do to make you feel any better. All the good will in the world can’t replace the fact that you were already secretly picking baby names and nursery colors and getting excited. You compartmentalize that chapter of your life like an old photo in an album that you tuck away on a shelf and only glance at once in a long while.

Time passed. We went on to have a beautiful daughter Alicia.

We’d go on to have another miscarriage. By that time, we felt like old pros. This time, my wife was in the doctor’s office at her pregnancy exam when the doctor informed her she was miscarrying. It didn’t make it any easier. We went home. We hardly told anyone. This time, we poured ourselves into caring for the young girl at home we already had. And again, we compartmentalized that chapter of our life like an old photo in an album that we tucked away on a shelf and only glance at once in a long while.

Time passed again. We went on to have another beautiful daughter Andreya.

Afterward, we chose not to try for more children. Out of four pregnancies, two ended in miscarriage. I feel blessed to have two healthy kids, why test the percentages again? Sure, once in a while the thought of another baby creeps in; the idea of raising a new baby and having that excitement back in the family.

For us, the time has passed. But yes, I still think about it… sometimes… at the weirdest times… that our family might have been bigger… could have been bigger… but isn’t. And I know there are so many other couples just like us, Mark Zuckerberg for example, who recently posted about his and his partner’s previous miscarriages prior to thier current pregnancy. The pain is real and need not be hidden.

This is my subtle nod to all of them… we’ve been there too. I’m not going to tell you how to feel. I just want you to know you’re not alone. You’re not. Today I flipped through that old photo album in my mind and was taken right back there.

Pete Wilgoren is an Emmy award winning journalist who writes about his often surprising, embarrassing, and educational experiences surrounded by a wife and two little girls. Find Dadmissions on Facebook and on his blog Dadmissions.