The "Grief Gap" for Miscarriage in the Workplace and Why We Need to Talk About It

I'm currently expecting a ??"rainbow baby." I've learned in the past year miscarriage does not need to be a taboo topic in the workplace. Here's my own story.

(FYI: A "rainbow baby" is a child after the grief storm of pregnancy loss. If you haven't heard that term, it's a thing. Google it.)

I had a couple pregnancy losses when I worked on the corporate ladder years ago, but never dared talk about it such a personal and painful experience. I didn't know how.

But having a miscarriage during a pandemic changed me.

And now I'm feeling brave to share my story here because I know so many other working women have the same experience, with 10-20 percent of known pregnancies ending early (according to Mayo Clinic). The following is one of the worst days of my life, and my story is like millions of other women.

My Story

I found out I was pregnant last summer and told my husband when we celebrated our 10th anniversary.

I felt exhausted and nauseous for weeks, but I was excited and pictured my kids with a little sibling. I’ve always wanted four kids. We had plans to announce baby news to our families soon.

Then one Friday, I started bleeding.

Worried, I called three medical professionals. All three told me nothing could be done before 12 weeks, so wait over the weekend and come in on Monday. I was 10 weeks.

That weekend was a mix of blood and tears, the possibility of a new person literally going down my shower drain. I wailed like an animal, and can’t say what hurt more, pains of labor at home or my dreams shattering.

“This is like a horror movie,” my husband said. That’s how it felt to me.

I learned the next week she was a girl with no chromosomal abnormalities. She simply stopped growing and was gone.

For months, I lived in a fog of grief. I gave her a name. I mourned I didn't get to meet her, hold her, see her. So weird to MISS someone you have not met. In my personal pain, a global pandemic was good timing: I needed space to hurt. I didn't want to be around other people when I felt so broken.

The Grief Gap

Where the need for maternity leave after birth is understood, there is no work “leave” for early birth in the U.S. It’s not considered “bereavement,” or accepted as a family member by church or state.

But it’s the same physiological process to heal, whether for miscarriage or full-term birth. And there's no baby prize, so you're also healing a broken heart.

I was grateful to work for myself at Comma Copywriters after my miscarriage so I could create space during that first agonizing week of grief. All I could muster as my reason for putting off 15 meetings was “there’s been a death in my family.”

I could not bear to say the "M" word or acknowledge that death had been *in* me.

I'd lost part of myself, the potential of someone who would share my DNA, and felt it was my fault for a long time. (I am past self-blame now, but I had to do the heart work to get here. Whew, it hurt.)

Without a miscarriage, we would have an eight-month-old girl in our family now. Instead, I type these words grateful to be eight months pregnant with a boy.

Why I Share

I share my story to let women in my circle know you’re not alone if you experience pregnancy loss. I am willing to mourn with you and listen if you need a safe ear.

I share my story to encourage everyone to be gentle with women who lose pregnancies. They are going through something traumatic, physically and emotionally, and everyone heals differently.

I share my story with hope other business leaders will give space and time for those who lose pregnancies to grieve and create compassionate work policies.

I share my story with an urge for American elected officials to follow the example of other countries who have paid leave for employees who experience miscarriage. We can do so much better in the U.S.

And a reminder: Every human you meet is a miracle. Be kind.

In the end, Love is all that really matters.