My own mother, who upon hearing my news of miscarriage, said “They always say not to be too active in the early…”
I cut her off with screams of pain “MOM, what does that have to do with me feeling incredibly SAD right now? And don’t you think I feel guilty enough…?”
“I’m so sorry you’re hurting…”
She and dad dropped everything and came a few days later. They stayed a full week. It was very nice having them around. I miss them and miss living close to them. I know she’s hurting inside as much as I am, probably more. Because once again, she cannot protect her daughter from harm and pain (re: hodgkin’s lymphoma). I love her and wouldn’t give anything to change it, but sometimes I wish she would be a little less superstitious and think a little more along the lines of logic and reason.
My cousin, replied with “…maybe you were too tired/exhausted from trip…”
Um, yea. I have never heard of exhaustion being a cause for miscarriage.
Then there’s my mom’s cousin. She insists (that word just has too many s’s!) that my recent mountain climbing — at 4.5 weeks — was the cause. My miscarriage was at 8 weeks. My OB confidently told me that since I did not spot or bleed at all after the Mt. climb, infact I only spotted (tiny amount) the night before, and then only bled the afternoon of the miscarriage, that the real cause was most likely chromosome related.
Add in other insignificant people’s comments, hurtful nontheless, it makes me feel worthless and full of guilt. It will prolong my grieving. It will alienate and produce gaps in the relationships. It makes me hate you for saying those things. Even though you mean well.
One friend summarized it perfectly: I just want them to shut up and hug me.