This is 30: My Miscarriage Story

“Do you have kids?”

My hiring manager asked me in my interview just 15 days after I learned of my miscarriage and had my D&C performed.
In short I answer “No.”
Setting aside this invalid question as mere small talk rather than an attempt to understand my qualifications.

“Do you want kids?”

He asked next. OK I’m thinking maybe he just recently had a child and is looking for areas where we can relate. Hmm… how to answer this question.
Yes. I was pregnant before. She decided she didn’t want to come after 10 weeks of growing in my belly. I haven’t even been able to say this out loud yet….
“Yes.” I respond as I try to stop my eyes from watering.“Sorry… allergies” I say as I prepare for the next question.

“When do you plan on having kids?”

Now I see the pattern to the conversation women fall victim to over and over again. He can probably tell from my resume and the year I received my Bachelors of Science that I’m almost 30. Plus there’s a wedding band on my finger so he’s assuming children would naturally be my next step.
How can he be asking these questions as interview questions? If I say soon he’s taking a risk hiring me. If I say I don’t know, I may look like I’m not being honest. I’ve never been good at lying, the truth is written all over my face…
Next I do something many would be too fearful to do.
I kill these questions with honesty.

“I was pregnant for the last 2.5 months. I lost my baby and my body didn’t recognize the loss. I had a D&C earlier this month. Are these your standard interview questions?”

Needless to say I got the job but guess what? I had to resign when I found out I was pregnant again. Without a year of employment prior to babies arrival, I had no benefits, no maternity leave and no F.M.L.A…

 

This is America.

 

Where women can expect to be asked these questions in the workplace, even during an interview and then have to choose between working to pay for daycare or leaving their jobs because they don’t offer maternity leave.

 


 

Pregnancy is not easy or even an option for many women. I learned this the hard way. I had never known any woman to have a miscarriage and I blamed my body for failing to support my growing babe. Little did I know miscarriages are more common than I thought. Now why, WHY didn’t I know not to blame my body? Why didn’t I know this was a common occurrence?
Because many women suffer in silence. They go about blaming themselves, or their bodies for failing them. They enter into depression and fear the very questions that I was asked in that interview.
It’s this fear that keeps us quiet, the fear of being judged.
Only when I began to talk about my miscarriage while traveling with my husband was I able to heal and move forward. We took a few months and packed in as many trips as we could to reset and found ourselves healing in far off places. After talking through it with him, I was slowly able to open up to others. And when I did, I was surprised at what I found…
I learned I wasn’t the only woman I know to have suffered a miscarriage. In fact MANY women near to me had.
If only I had known this prior to my loss. Perhaps I wouldn’t have been so hard on myself, maybe I wouldn’t have suffered in silence, while everyone slept. Thinking about my lost baby, how I just knew she was a girl, why did she decide not to come? Why did my body not keep her safe? Why didn’t I wait to tell close friends about her? What if I just wasn’t meant to be a mom… what if…what if…what if…
Almost exactly one year after my D&C our little Rya arrived. I think now my first baby brought her to us. And I’m thankful for the short amount of time I got to know her, because without her I wouldn’t have my Rya and I wouldn’t be the mumma I am today.
This post is dedicated to that one brave momma I know who posted her miscarriage and D&C experience in a foreign country on Facebook. You inspired me to open up, speak up, and begin to heal. I hope this post will help other mummas as yours did for me.
If you or someone close to you have ever suffered a miscarriage don’t let it burn a hole in your heart.
Don’t hold it in.
Speak up.
Let it out.
Share your story and know it wasn’t your fault.
You are not alone.