Welcome to Kim Crossman’s column, Pretty Pregnant – this week, for Kim very generously takes us back to her first pregnancy – a pregnancy that so sadly ended in a miscarriage. Kim’s talked a bit about it before, but, for Baby Loss Awareness Week she wanted to share for the first time what happened in that first pregnancy, and, the year that followed – as well as what she does to honour her first baby and the impact it has had on her current pregnancy.
Missed her last edition? Click here to catch up!
TW: Miscarriage
This week is Baby Loss Awareness Week and here at Capsule we’re committed to sharing the stories and information about this topic which is SO important, yet so rarely openly discussed.
In NZ we don’t collect data on the number of miscarriages, but it’s estimated that between 13,000 to 15,000 women experience a miscarriage in NZ every year. That means for every four pregnancies, one ends in miscarriage.
Then, there are the babies who are stillborn – who die during pregnancy or in utero after the 20th week of pregnancy. Each year about one in every 200 pregnancies ends in stillbirth.I am taking a bit of a pivot from my pregnancy journey this week to both acknowledge and share my experience with baby loss in more detail for Baby Loss Awareness Week. This experience was so pivotal to me, and I hope that by sharing this experience I’m able to offer help or comfort to those who are or have also experienced loss in a similar manner.
I didn’t speak in great detail about this much because I didn’t quite know how to add value to the conversation, and not because I am currently pregnant now, but because it took me a long time to find and source the help I needed to actually help me get to a healthier place with it. The journey is now something that I want to share in this safe space.
I have previously spoken about the loss of my first baby publicly, but how I healed is something I want to share in detail for the first time here.
To set the scene, I will share some context of our journey and then focus on the things that helped me heal.
Shortly after Tom and I got engaged and I landed back in LA and he in New Zealand, I found out I was pregnant.
I have never had a pregnancy “scare” before and was pretty convinced, in some odd way, that I was just infertile.
We weren’t actively trying, so it was a surprise. I was also shocked at the calmness and maternal vibes that flooded me so intensely. Previously, I had always been the “if it happens it happens” type of person; I didn’t know if children would be in my future given what I do for a living, the inconsistency of where I live, and not meeting or finding Tom, someone who I would even consider having children with, till later in life. But after that moment of a positive test, everything changed. I felt a sense of peace, an instant connection to the baby, which was only the size of a blueberry at this point, and the opening of my heart in a way I hadn’t experienced.
The next few weeks felt great. I had only a few symptoms, mainly fatigue, and felt so excited about what would come. I bought a baby journal immediately and wrote daily about my thoughts and hopes so I could share with Tom, when I saw him back in NZ, and my family, who I hadn’t yet shared the news with. At the eight-ish week mark, I went for a scan and that was when things started to change. Baby was growing and the heartbeat was there, but the growth and the heart rate didn’t match the dating we had anticipated. I have irregular periods, so we put it down to that.
What developed was then a three-and-a-half-week journey of scanning and testing every few days, blood tests, and almost a month of clinging to hope as baby continued to grow and the heart rate continued to rise but not on the trajectory that is consistent with a “healthy pregnancy.” Tom was in the mountains filming and calling when he could. My mum flew over to come to the appointments with me, and just prior to the 12-week mark we made the decision to fly back to New Zealand to continue the journey there.
When mum and I landed, we drove straight to a scan and I will never forget the moment when the radiologist went looking for a heartbeat that she was unable to find. The heartbeat I had been clinging to with such hope for what felt like an eternity. The finality of this feeling and the feeling of not having Blueberry anymore after a DNC, I would consider two of the loneliest and saddest moments of my life. At least prior, there was hope. But when that is gone, the emptiness I felt was unlike anything I had experienced. A loss like no other. It’s different than the loss of someone you have known earth-side or have tangible memories with. You are mourning the loss of the plans you made in your head, the inevitable feeling of blame on yourself, and the finality of a dream.
Optically, I bounced back quickly. It seems the world just moves on, but I was not okay. I was upset at how upset I was, how I couldn’t “logic” my way through the feelings. How I felt like this was it – that was my baby and I didn’t want another one. I wanted that one, the one I had connected with, the one that felt so perfect and so aligned and so resilient. Then having to manage the comments (meant with nothing but love, I know) of the “your body now knows what to do,” “at least you know you can get pregnant,” and “it’s super common.” All of this may be true, but not all equally helpful.
I know anyone reading this will have their own version of this story and that’s often where the conversation ends, so I wanted to share the ‘what I did next’ part of my story. It took me a long time to get to a better place and I think that is hopefully what will be helpful to hear.
I spoke to my hypnotherapist about some tangible tools around breathwork and mindset around grief and specifically the grief of hope. Being able to decipher the difference and take some of the judgment – my own judgment around how and why I was feeling grief, and redefining it as the grief of hope and plans that won’t eventuate, helped me reframe things slightly.
I spoke with a medium, and I understand this is not for everyone, but a year on, when I was still struggling with the loss, the opportunity to talk to Blueberry in a way or even know she is always around gave me a sense of peace and helped mend a bit of that loss. I also had my Nana come through, and the idea they are together, wherever that is, gave me a sense of comfort I needed. Again, I know this is not for everyone, but for me, this was really helpful. I see Blueberry as my little angel that is with my Nana and that thought is always there when I need it.
I did some Neuro Emotional Technique (NET) therapy. NET is a type of therapy that takes the idea that emotions are stored in the body. When I started to really focus on my own fertility and wanting to conceive, there were a few signs that perhaps I was emotionally or spiritually blocked in some way because I was still grieving and had trauma around Blueberry. Honestly, I think I was scared to experience loss again; my wound was not healed, nor did I want it to be. This kind of therapy helped me a lot. It’s not talk therapy as such; it was more about shifting energy for me to feel it was safe for me to get pregnant.
I got a tattoo, a little blueberry on my hip. It’s hidden, but I know it is there and a way for me to reframe that she’s my little partner in crime; I am stronger with her and because of her.
We got some blueberry roses and planted them in the garden. They are my screensaver on my phone and something my mum very kindly will always put in my room when in bloom.
I don’t know if any of these things will be helpful to you, but I do know even writing this today I have been balling, in a good and healthy way. Not everyone will feel this way with miscarriage and that’s okay. Not everyone will feel the same with every miscarriage and that’s okay. Catering to your own needs is important and has taken me a long time to work through.
Early in this pregnancy, it felt really hard to connect to the baby. I didn’t write in a journal; I tempered my excitement. It wasn’t till I did a cool henna ceremony with a friend in LA that I felt permission internally to connect. She told me that Nana and Blueberry were with this baby, holding its hand, and will take care of it till it’s ready to be earthside with us.
Again, this might not be for everyone, but it really worked for me so I wanted to share that here. Hope was taken away from me once and then was kindly gifted back to me by some amazing women, and I will be forever appreciative of their guidance, kindness, and generosity. And the amazing, intuitive, healers and therapist women who helped me with my emotional blocks and healing played a vital role in my recovery too.
I have listed them below if you are in need or open to chatting, but know there are many people in this space who can offer some healing too.
I’m also always here if you need to chat. I will be back writing about my current journey in the next edition, but I felt that it was important to share this chapter in my life given the week and the importance of support always and not just during Baby Loss Awareness Week.
The amazing women who helped me work through my journey with miscarriage are:
@be_hypnotherapy @jacquelynlarson_lmft @iamemilypogany @Leslie.indigo @teereadings
