Why Self-Care After Miscarriage is Different
NPR may have dubbed self-care a “millennial obsession”, but the basic concept goes way back — Foucault argued that in Ancient Greece taking care of the self was the foundation of morality. (How’s that for deep?) But in the modern sense of the phrase, self-care is more practical than moral. For some people, self-care translates to indulgences: a long bubble bath, a sleeve of Girl Scout Cookies, a glass of luscious wine. For others, self-care means building a life you love: making time for the gym, eating nourishing foods, investing in time with loved ones, finding fulfilling work.
But what does self-care mean in the wake of a miscarriage, stillbirth, or infant loss? “Building a life you love” can feel impossible when a key part of that life you envisioned is gone, and indulgences alone can turn into avoidance (drinking to forget, for example). Self-care in grief requires a different approach.
Here’s a three-step approach to self-care after infant or pregnancy loss.
(Note: These tips may be enough on their own, but they also complement professional counseling nicely. If you need help, check out these resources, or call the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 1–800–273–8255 for crisis help.)
First, make the time and space to understand what you feel.
Recently, my husband and I were bickering over something relatively small that turned into a larger discussion about Big Life Things (as these things sometimes do). And in the course of the debate, my husband said: “You are so unhappy and you don’t even know it.” And after a bit of introspection, I realized…he was right.
It’s nearly impossible to manage your emotions, and find ways to address the more difficult ones, if you don’t understand what it is that you’re feeling. And weirdly, understanding your emotions isn’t an automatic thing. It takes intention.
To understand where you are emotionally, find a time and a space where you can be alone. Silence your phone, put away distractions, take a few deep breaths (or go for a full-on meditation session, if that’s your style) and check in. Pay attention to where your thoughts go, and what emotions come along with them. Then try to give your emotions a name. (This chart can be especially useful.) Perhaps what you’re feeling is grief or heartbreak or something else related to loss — or perhaps what comes to the front is stress about a problem at work, excitement over a blossoming friendship, hope over plan for the future, anxiety about a plan for the future. Or, more likely, a mix of all of that. There are no wrong answers here.
Setting aside time and space gives you the opportunity to identify what you’re feeling, and also to feel those feelings. To acknowledge them, and react to them, and figure out what you’re going to do about them. And then, to move forward with a better understanding of what you need right now.
Next, prioritize gentleness.
As a follow-up to understanding where you are emotionally, the next thing to do is to accept what you find. Be gentle with yourself.
· If you’re grieving, allow yourself to grieve.
· If you’re disappointed, allow yourself to be disappointed.
· If you’re feeling guilty about a miscarriage or stillbirth, acknowledge that feeling, and do a bit of research on causes. (Hint: It’s almost never because of something the mother did.)
· If you need to cry, cry.
· If you need to sleep, sleep.
· If you need distraction, reach out to someone or take yourself out.
These are your new mantras: What you’re feeling isn’t wrong. What you need isn’t bad.
This gentleness doesn’t just stop at accepting your feelings — it extends throughout your life. It might mean taking a day off when you need one (and if you need help getting that time off, check out this great primer). It might mean prioritizing a long run, or conversely, it might mean recognizing that you’re using exercise as a form of punishment and finding more loving approaches. It might mean forgiving yourself for eating a bag of Cheetos — or for being in this situation in the first place. The point is to look at yourself and your actions with an eye toward kindness, gentleness and care.
And yes, indulge.
Loss is grueling. Miscarriage, birth and/or caring for a fragile newborn add a physically demanding element; but grief itself, for any reason, can be wholly draining. The self-care-as-indulgence idea has a lot to recommend it during this time, as long as you aren’t causing yourself more pain later. (You know what makes grief worse? Grief with a side of hangover.) So have that drink (just try not to overindulge, hey?), draw that bath, schedule that massage, get lost in that novel, or take an afternoon off to nap in the sun.
In the depths of grief, the best thing you can do for yourself is to care for yourself — with time, with introspection, with kindness and with a few gentle indulgences along the way.
