You just need one person who’s able to listen

Just as I’ve had to come to terms with my life-changing losses, I’ve also learned to accept that some people simply don’t have a huge capacity for empathy. Instead of focusing on them, I choose to share my innermost thoughts and feelings with those who can hold space for them. Safe in their company, I can unburden myself, knowing that my vulnerability will be respected and reciprocated. I hope that every parent who’s experienced a loss can count on at least one person like this in their lives, because their unconditional support helps us to heal.

Remember, grief can be a lifelong journey

When anyone close to you dies (whether that’s a parent, a friend or a pregnancy), you’re often told that ‘time is a great healer’. While I no longer feel as sad, angry, disappointed, envious or hopeless as I did three years ago when a scan revealed my baby’s heart had stopped beating, I’m still grieving. The first time I went past the park where I walked daily while waiting for nature to take its course, I burst into tears. Whenever I travel through the stations I passed during my miscarriage, my body immediately tenses as my mind replays the devastating scenes.

Grief is not a linear process that ends after a certain amount of time. We don’t wake up one week, one month or one year later and realise that we are magically healed. Although the load has lightened, I still carry my grief with me and expect to do so indefinitely.

“Navigating the emotionally complex world of pregnancy loss? These are the 6 life-affirming lessons I learned after having 2 miscarriages”