First off before you are reading this blog post I want to give you a trigger warning. I will talk about pregnancy loss. Please only read ahead if you feel comfortable with it.
This is a rather heavy post to write, yet it has been sitting in my head for almost nine or ten months. Usually, I do not like to share things this intimate or private. But silence is no option either. I do not feel ready to post openly on social media about it, but this is exactly why I began this blog a few months ago. My art is heavily influenced by my experiences and happenings in my life. It wouldn’t feel right if I would share my upcoming art and not share why painted it.
My story began about one year ago (December 2022) when I found out I was pregnant for the first time. We were happy and anxiously waiting for our first appointment. It was scheduled for the day before the Christmas holiday began. Our plan was to tell our families on Christmas Eve. But instead of happy news, all we got was some confusion. There could be a baby, but also not. I had to go in six days later. And that was when we first learned about a molar pregnancy. Never heard of that before. My doctor called the same evening and told me I needed to come in first thing the next morning to get a D&C done. There was no time to think about it because there was a chance for me to get cancer if this pregnancy had not been removed immediately. That’s not what you want to hear as a 27-year-old. Basically, you don’t want to hear this ever! We went in the next morning, everybody was so nice to me and I was scared.
After half a year I got cleared by my doctor to get pregnant again. This was the news that we were waiting so impatiently for.
In my second cycle, my period was late. We were on vacation and I was scared to take a pregnancy test. What if it is negative? Oh and what if it is positive? I waited a few more days and then tested positive. But there was no joy, the test was faint and the next morning even fainter. A few days after my tests I started my period. I lost this pregnancy. Another. I know it was so early but still devastating. It was a chemical pregnancy.
Another month later I found myself in the same situation as around four weeks before. Standing in the bathroom with a pregnancy test in my hands, hoping to see two strong lines. And there they were. We went in for our first ultrasound a few weeks later and we finally saw our little baby with a heartbeat. I knew it was still very early and things could happen, but I thought after all the things we went through it was now our time. Due to my history with the molar pregnancy, my doctor wanted to see me more often. So we went in for another ultrasound just a few days later. Our hearts sank. No heartbeat and the baby has gotten smaller. My doctor told us that she wouldn’t recommend another D&C for me and we agreed. We went with a medical miscarriage.
This is still so very fresh. I’m still trying to navigate myself through this loss. Miscarriages happen more often than we know, but we don’t talk about it enough. I get it, I know how hard it is to talk about it.
There are a multitude of emotions you go through after a miscarriage or multiple losses. I blamed my body because I thought it was failing us over and over. Concerns about future pregnancies are constantly in my head. All this while I felt the expectations from outside that after the actual act of miscarrying is over you need to get your life together and move on as if nothing ever happened. All the advice and tips you hear do not make it better at all, if anything they make it worse. I am grieving and grief takes time.
As I mentioned at the beginning of this post this is a very sensitive topic and it is beyond vulnerable to write about it. The one thing that helped me most was to find a new daily routine, especially with work. Before my miscarriage happened I had plans for a completely different collection of paintings. But right this moment it doesn’t feel right to paint them. I feel the urge to paint for myself to heal and share my experience with other women. It is easy to feel lonely in moments like these but we are not alone. There are (sadly) many women who go or have gone through exactly this. And I want to paint understanding and hope for you too. Art gives me a safe place for my emotions.
Each brushstroke tells countless stories all while lying there so silently.
There’s so much more to pregnancy loss than this post could hold. Pregnancy loss is a journey of healing, it takes time and we need this time. There are no right or wrong feelings. Take all the time you need but do not forget yourself. I don’t feel in the position to give you advice on what to do or how to handle it, all I want you to know is that you are not alone.
Thank you so much for reading my story. If you are feeling ready I would love for you to accompany me on my journey of healing through painting. I will share my paintings with you and we will see where this leads us. I don’t have a plan for now, but we will figure it out.