Finding Your Anchor

We all have a story that begins when we are young.

What are we going to be when we grow up?

Where will we live?

Will we be married or single?

Will we have children? If so, how many?

The story morphs as we get older, sometimes multiple times.

Once in a while we land in our fairy tale, but most of the time real life is far different than our childhood imaginations. For good or for bad.

As a society, we celebrate the positives in life. Graduations, new jobs or job promotions, marriages and children. We find joy in celebrating with others, and often relish the opportunity to share our own accomplishments.

It’s a wonderful thing being able to celebrate, but as with most things in life, there is often more to the story than what meets the eye.

Sometimes that story has heartbreak.

A move, a job loss, a loss of a marriage or a family member.

As a society, we mourn these losses with others. We come together to offer support and encouragement. It’s fantastic when communities can rally around those who are hurting. Goodness knows, there are far more opportunities than we would like.

There are other losses that are more private and not socially acceptable to talk about, and they affect 1 in 4 of us.

1 in 4.

That’s 25% of the women in our country that are often suffering in silence.

…and that isn’t taking into consideration the toll it takes on the men.

"But, Amy, what are you talking about?"

I’m talking about reproductive loss.

When we have a story in our head about children, and that chapter is ripped away, it leaves a hole that sometimes no one else is aware of.

Perhaps it’s a result of infertility, miscarriage, abortion, or stillbirth.

It could be the tragic loss of a young child or a failed adoption.

These life events often leave us struggling to grasp the situation.

There is often a perceived need to outwardly live life like nothing is wrong, yet we are shriveling on the inside.

If this is you, you are not alone.

And there CAN be hope.

There CAN be healing.

Dr. Earl Grollman, a pioneer in the field of crisis intervention, is quoted as saying “Grief is not a disorder, a disease, or a sign of weakness. It is an emotional, physical, and spiritual necessity, the price you pay for love. The only cure for grief is to grieve.”

I’ve had my own journey with reproductive loss.

The loss of hopes and dreams. Of well-meaning comments that cut like a knife.

Feeling like I was alone, suffering in the midst of everyone else’s celebrations.

I want you to know that it IS okay to grieve, and there is no “right” way to do so.

I also want to shout out to the world that it IS okay to talk about reproductive loss.

We shouldn’t have to hide behind a shroud of guilt or shame.

1 in 4.

That’s A LOT of us!

If you are one of the 25%, or perhaps you know of someone who is, I want you to know that you are NOT alone.

There is assistance.

There is support.

Your loss may have been recent, or it may have been decades ago. There is no set time frame on processing a loss.

If you’d like some wonderful online resources, consider visiting one (or both) of the following sites:

If you have experienced miscarriage: miscarriagehurts.com

If you have experienced abortion:  yourabortionexperience.org

Both sites offer a wide range of resources if you want privacy in exploring healing options.

If you would like a more personal interaction, I offer a program entitled Finding Your Anchor: A path to healing after reproductive loss. Finding Your Anchor is a non-judgmental space to explore grief and healing for any type of reproductive loss. We look at what grief is, how to recognize the various stages (it can be messy!), different types of grief, and ways to find healing.

To find a sense of wholeness within yourself not to move on, but to move forward.

If this speaks to you, join me in Finding Your Anchor, or send me a personal message; I’d love to hear from you.