Post-Traumatic Stress

I want to talk about something that doesn't get enough attention. I want to talk about baby loss and awareness, particularly for partners.

Earlier this year my wife and I suffered a miscarriage. Go back and read that again. My wife and I suffered a miscarriage, and I did everything I could to help her through it. I put on the strong face. I let her cry on my shoulder. I provided for her and our daughter, and I was the best version of myself that I could be. I did all of that for her... but I fear I didn't do enough for me. Don't take this the wrong way, I don't resent her for anything. I don't feel bad for being a man and doing what had to be done. In a lot of ways, being there for her helped me too, but grief doesn't tend to go away that easily. I did everything I could to help my wife through this, but what I didn't realize was that in my grief, I probably wasn't doing enough. We really should have seen a counselor to help us understand our grief and work through it.

Since the tragedy I have been doing a lot of research, particularly online because I live online (it is my occupation). There are absolutely astonishing statistics about miscarriage that I/we didn't know at all. However, those seem to change depending on your source. One statistic that sidelined me was that it could be one in four or one in five pregnancies end in miscarriage, or more commonly represented as a percentage - 25%. While that number alone is staggering, support for partners is still shockingly scarce.

Understanding that she feels full emotional and physical aspects of pregnancy loss, partners are not immune to its impact. I read that one in five mothers suffer from long-term symptoms of post-traumatic stress after a miscarriage, one in 12 partners do too. Both parents experience the loss.

This experience had me feeling depressed, insecure, scared, worried, and all the things in between. It made me feel like I wasn't good enough, which is what led me to search for some relief. I needed to know how other men deal with this emotional baggage that was/is weighing me down. Surely the answer is to guzzle a gallon of whiskey and sleep it off, right? But it's too big for that. This was my baby. We were picking names even though we didn't know the sex. Now none of those names could be considered for our next baby when and if we're lucky enough for that miracle. I cannot even imagine why someone would choose this kind of loss, but that's another subject entirely.

Look, I know you're all expecting me to tell you about all the great resources I found at this point, but the truth is, I didn't. There really is not enough baby loss support for partners. Besides that, the more I read online, the more disconnected from the tragedy I felt. And that wasn't the point at all. I needed to feel it. I needed to be overcome with grief so I could get to work on getting through it. It's a sad admission that I've experienced enough close personal loss in my life to know what I need to do to get through it. However, this was a different kind of loss. It was new, so I needed a sort of compass to help get me on my way. The only problem was that I wasn't finding it online. Sure, there are some good spots to land, like the Miscarriage for Men website established by Chris Whitfield. But if you're like me, you need more.

You guys, this is the part that shocked me...

One day a couple of weeks ago I was watching TikTok videos on my phone and an idea popped into my head. It was late and the girls were asleep, so I decided to head downstairs to my hideout (that we refer to as the office). When I got to the office, I looked up and down all the book cases for my Bible. I found a Bible, actually about 4, but I couldn't find my Bible. (Some of you will understand.) So I grabbed one and sat at the desk. This idea that popped in my head was that if I just open it and read I will feel relieved. The idea that this Truth will help me didn't seem to be what I was looking for, but I went with it. Besides it was like  10:30 at night, what else did I have going on. I blindly opened the book to Jonah - to the beginning of Jonah. So, I read.

Now, Jonah is a good and easy read. We all know the story, and I've read it a dozen times. This was a statement from a pastor friend of mine: "Jonah makes us face the fact that our prejudices and hatred can blind us from what God calls us to do." Well, okay, Bible. So what is it that God is calling me to do? The answer was, of course, to read and to pray. Pray. I'm not as familiar with prayer as I used to be. I could barely remember what it was like to communicate with God. I'll tell you this, as soon as I started it was like talking to an old friend. I talked about everything. Talked about all the feelings I had, about all my worries. I asked for forgiveness, and I asked for guidance. I have prayed almost every day since.

That is where I found relief for all the post-traumatic stress. Now I can get through the grief.

Ashley and I need to find a church home. This has been a big missing piece in our lives, and I believe we will find one. And I want to thank God for the man who randomly came to our door last night just to tell us that Jesus loves us, and invite us to church. There was no sales pitch or preaching, there was no pushy prayer, there was just a beautiful older man (scraggly and bearded) telling us that Jesus loves us. Telling us that God changed his life and he wanted to invite us to church. My friends, there is something happening. Are you ready?