An Untold Story


We are constantly surrounded by voices. The last couple weeks everyone has been talking. Between Trump becoming President, women’s marches- it has been non-stop voices. There are plenty of people stating their opinion, defending their point of view, and others biting their tongue.  I have been biting my tongue but completely unrelated to politics.

In the midst of every person blasting information with a “I am Women Hear Me Roar” attitude and pushing details about how men shouldn’t control our bodies I wasn’t even in control of mine. On Friday the 13th – I had a miscarriage. It was my third. I did this only days after talking with a friend about her painful situation. I reached out to this high school friend, knowing and understanding the pain she was feeling. Telling her not to go at this alone. Then doing the complete opposite of that only days later.

For my first it was on Thanksgiving in 2011. I was ashamed and brokenhearted. I told very few people. I didn’t talk about it.  It was this secret that only few knew, but no one dare talk about. I attempted to sweep it under the rug and forced the scientific side of my brain to overcome the emotional side and say that this is common just not talked about.

My second was after my Son- Brandt.  I was traveling for work. I spoke to a room of 200 kids all while secretly having a miscarriage alone. in a hotel. in Indiana.   I told my husband in a short conversation on the phone while sitting outside of a Walgreen’s. I told my sister through text message.  I closed off myself. I was hurt, mad and didn’t understand.  I was a mess.  It took me over a year to figure my shit out.  On my 30th Birthday I got a tattoo, I promised I would gather up the pieces and become me again. With a new found hope we welcomed our daughter – Tessa Rae into the world a year later.

My third was on Friday the 13th only a couple of days ago. At work I was preparing for a horrible ice storm to sweep through the Midwest.  I knew exactly what was happening, I didn’t feel “right”. It started, I made the painful call to my husband. I wiped my tears away and I sat back at my desk and stared at the screen. I went to a dinner with friends.  They talked about babies and pregnancy. I lost it. I stormed out. I couldn’t handle the casual conversation that seemed to rip my broken heart further into pieces.  Just a week earlier I had told a friend pieces of the passage below. I was saying this to myself on the drive home. I write this as a reminder to myself.  A note to each of you who know this untold pain.

It’s okay to hurt…  It’s completely okay to hurt. You are mourning the loss of your baby. Whom you were the only one to truly know. You have no funeral, you have no set time to mourn but you must create this time for yourself.  The pain is intense, physically and mentally.   The desire for motherhood is so great that it is difficult to capture.  For you motherhood started at the first positive pregnancy test and grows with each minute of each day and each heartbeat.

 “There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside you” – Maya Angelou

It’s okay to feel… Your feelings are valid and warranted All Of Them. Pain. Anger. Grief. You need to feel these things.

-Pain is inevitable.  You have lost a child, remember it was a child to you.  It will take you weeks to recover physically and mentally, you will be fine one minute, and holding back tears the next.  Don’t tell yourself to suck it up- allow yourself to feel. People will ask you how far along you were like this is a measure how painful it was for you.  It is not.  It is a question nearly everyone asks. Even though it may break your heart… or make you angry.

-Anger is natural.  I was angry, and didn’t understand. I was angry at the 16-year-old who was complaining about being pregnant at the doctor office while I was waiting for the results I already knew to be true. At the insensitivity to the person that gave what they felt to be comforting advise that there must have been something wrong with the fetus.  At the news story of a lady with the baby who did drugs her entire pregnancy with beautiful twins.

-Grief is a process.There is no funeral, no service, no obituary to announce it to the world.  That is why it seems to be a painful secret that you carry.   There is no natural way to tell anyone – so you end up blurting it out in a conversation with a friend, or texting it to your sister and mother because you can’t bear to say the words out loud because that makes it real. Grief is love… love that you want so badly to give, but cannot.

Surround yourself with strength… Lean on your husband for he is also in pain but can be your strength. Reach out to a friend. Tell them you need to talk, or to breathe, go to a movie so you can be with your people but not have to talk.

For those who are reading this to find comfort for a friend.  Ask them if they want to talk about it. Many need to talk about it. It is part of the healing process, which is exactly why I am writing this post.

I always wonder who you would have been- Unknown

xoxo, Bryn




One thought on “An Untold Story

  1. So sorry to hear this. I know it’s not an easy thing to go through and take your time to grieve in your own way. Hugs to you and John.

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