Pregnancy Loss
in my own words
I had a pregnancy loss at 7.5 weeks in October 2025. October is also known as pregnancy loss month in the perinatal mental health world. Bonus points?
I started my pregnancy loss while in session supporting a Mama who was coping with anxiety & fears about the very thing that I was about to walk myself through. This is the stuff nightmare’s & resiliency are made of.
There are so many angles to choose to write this post from. There’s already been journaling, notes in my phone, and personal reflections that have all felt different than the tone I’m taking on here almost three months later and I’m going with it.
Trust the process we say.
My only experience of pregnancy loss up until three months ago was through holding others through their experience, reading about it & actively learning.
Here’s what I learned about my, as my medical record states, “spontaneous abortion”:
I really wanted to believe that a bit of spotting was normal, even if I’ve never experienced it before. I would have traded it for the probability of having twins, as I learned spotting is more common. My brain searched for the hope first.
Before the ramp up of what felt like endless bleeding; there’s this weird in between stage where you might just be doing life as usual: selling Halloween costumes on marketplace and meeting up with a buyer in a Home Depot parking lot, picking up your child from school, simply eating a meal or even hearing another’s pregnancy announcement. Everything all at once. It doesn’t just stop.
Relating pregnancy loss cramping to the same as “period cramping” is a disservice to women. It wasn’t the same. It didn’t feel the same physically or emotionally. There were moments that felt like contractions. I remember the same sensations in labor throughout my lower back & legs. It was that.
There’s more than blood that’s experienced. There are more colors. There are more textures. There are more pieces. There are more & more & more & more pads.
I don’t regret for one second sharing my pregnancy with those closest to me, as they would be my biggest source of comfort and support during the weeks to follow. I double down on not doing motherhood alone. All parts of it.
The crash of hormones was the most intense wave I have ever experienced. My emotions were at the edges of my skin for 2-3 days in a way I had never embodied them before.
I couldn’t leave my embryonic sac or tissue pieces in a biohazard bin. I took them home and planted them. I didn’t know I’d feel this way or respond this way, but I knew I wasn’t alone when I read a whole reddit thread on women who “flushed”.
The constant monitoring & appointments to ensure “it’s all out” is such a mind fuck. Finding relief in viewing an empty uterus is a surreal experience. My uterus was dark, still & weeping blood on the big screen. Another odd sense of relief to witness emptiness verses anything else.
Things that held me through this time: hugs, text and voice memo check ins from family & friends, delivered meals, time off work, hearing untold stories from family, an empathic Dr., a wise Midwife, a virtual support group, journaling, a safe & secure massage, slowing down with my little one and leaning on my partner.
I was processing my loss with my Midwife and she asked: “What has this loss brought to you”? I sat with that for a while and I landed on the actual miracle that any of us are actually here. Alive. I couldn’t help but remain in awe of my own biology and the vulnerable, complex, awesome sequencing that needs to happen in order to be alive. I feel gratitude for experiencing two pregnancies that came very quickly. One with a full-term baby (very full, he needed to start paying rent soon) and one brief experience with this miraculous process once again.
As I share with the Mama’s I work with “let Motherhood change you” and here I am once again. Forever changed.
I remain in awe of the body’s ability to heal. To soften again. To relax again. To hope again.
With love,
Angela (mother & therapist)