The 12-week taboo: talking openly about miscarriage

By Felicity Frankish

It was no secret to anyone – I was baby mad.

I had been this way since I was a little girl. I started babysitting at the tender age of 13, then started working at a kids’ toy store, before eventually working as a nanny for two years.

What’s not to love about kids! I loved cuddling them, playing games and looking after them. There was no denying I had a real maternal instinct and I couldn’t wait to start my own family.

When I was lucky enough to find myself engaged to the love of my life, I knew it was almost my time. We could start a family together.

Chris knew what he was getting into from day one. He readily agreed that once we were married it was time to start trying – and try we did!

In hindsight, we were so lucky, although it didn’t feel it at the time. On our second month of trying, we got the two lines on that pregnancy test.

We followed protocol and booked in the doctor’s visit, had my bloods taken and had everything confirmed. Then it was the fun part, at least in my eyes: telling people.

I didn’t think twice, as I wanted everyone to know straight away. Chris felt the same. We were pregnant! We were expecting our first baby and we had nothing to hide.

The thought of miscarriage didn’t even enter my mind – and why would it. It’s not something you ever think about happening to you. If it did, I knew I wanted my friends and family around for support.

Family were told first and, then after a scan at 9 weeks, we started to tell friends. By this stage we had been told there was a less than 1% chance of miscarriage. We were on cloud nine.

I was the first of most of my friends to fall pregnant and I was surprised by how many seemed nervous that we were announcing so early. I had to keep justifying our decision over and over, telling people why we were announcing and that it was okay for them to get excited. There it was. In plain sight. The 12-week taboo.

We all know it. Even if you have never fallen pregnant you will have heard of it.

It’s the theory that most miscarriages happen in the first trimester, so you should wait until 12 weeks to announce. What shocked me most was how many people follow it blindly without question. Had these people ever considered what would happen if they did have a miscarriage?

Would you want to suffer that in silence?

It’s like this unspoken rule that no-one wants to hear about sadness and death, so we should just wait and suffer in silence if anything happens. Basically, sit down and wait for it to happen – at least that’s how I felt.

And in the end, we did have a miscarriage. That perfect little baby stopped growing at 11 weeks and we had to say goodbye.

It was heart wrenching and so, so painful but the one thing I am grateful for is all the support we had. There were flowers, messages of comfort, phone calls where people let me break down on the other end. Fruit baskets turned up on my doorstep and I felt so loved. I don’t think Chris and I would have made it through that time without all those people. It was a rollercoaster ride, but one I am so glad I brought my friends and family on board for.

The next time we fell pregnant, I didn’t even hesitate – I told people straight away. Even before the scan this time.

Sadly, we miscarried again at 6 weeks. Once again the pain was unbearable and I found myself wondering if I would ever get my rainbow baby. But friends and family shared their stories of loss – some had never spoken up about them before – and this is what gave me hope.

It is amazing how much impact we can have on other people if we open up and share our experiences. A miscarriage isn’t something to be ashamed of. It isn’t something that you should suffer in silence. The 12 week taboo needs to be broken and people should feel like they can rely on their friends and family if they need to.

Every baby – whether they make it or not – is special and worth celebrating.

I now have my precious rainbow baby and her sister on the way. I will never forget my first two babies, as they helped shape who I am today. They also help me appreciate just how lucky I am to have my two gorgeous girls and to be surrounded by such caring friends and family.

Read more: 

The day I met my online mums’ group in person

No, you can’t meet my newborn baby

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