On Miscarriages & Memory Mugging on Facebook

This morning I’ve been prepping to make the most of my Women of the World Festival this week. I’m aiming to take myself as far out of my comfort zone as I can and address some holes in my knowledge. Feeling sated with all things female, (and gently steaming amongst the drying laundry – joys of multi-tasking at home*) I flipped over to Facebook and was #memorymugged by a paragraph I wrote two years ago – see below.
I don’t often do the Facebook retread thing but I was going to share this again on Facebook  with a bit of an update – but somehow to do that now was making me feel a bit queasy. As if it’s overshare, attention-seeking. It isn’t or it’s not intended to be.
I’m simply trying to find routes to articulate what I held onto for years as a trauma, a shame, a shock.
I’m sharing this from 2 years ago because it marked the watershed when I started to talk about this stuff and it was also the first step into my Women’s Equality Party journey.
At the time I wrote this to the author of the attached blog:
“Hats off to you – When I was/am going through this I found for the first time in my life I was totally out of vocabulary. I still am. It isn’t a one time thing – it’s been the single most defining (non)experience of my life and there is nowhere to put a value on the (non)experience of recurrent miscarriage. It’s now the (non)experience which most defines who I am, what I do, which friendships have sustained and which haven’t and I didn’t choose it, unlike almost everything else I have done and do. I didn’t want sympathy and at the time I thought it would go away and all would work out in the end. It didn’t and it hasn’t. I still don’t want sympathy but it’s hard to join back in again when life takes you off on a very different track from (almost) everyone else you know. Fortunately – as discussed previously on this social media page – I have the best of husbands.
Thanks for finding the words – I haven’t read them all, frankly I don’t want to, but I’m glad someone is finding a way to talk about this.”
And this is the blog post – Things About Miscarriage my friend wrote.
Today, I’m not feeling as isolated partly because I’ve found through The Women’s Equality Party a network of committed, inspiring and energising (mostly) women and some great men (all of us doing the ordinary stuff but committing to gender equality and working to make it happen). Through our conversations, campaigns and actions,  I’ve taken heart that the hurts that society doesn’t make time for are increasingly coming to the fore, and that the talents that have been overlooked are claiming their space in the public imagination. When WEP started, its leaders promised to do politics differently: WEP is providing a space for conversations about what life is all about and encouraging to take action to support what is really valuable to us, to explore in action what a quality of life and equality of life actually mean.
None of that decries what I felt and said two years ago  – not being a parent when you wanted to be one  and thought you were going to be one (and there are a myriad of versions that takes ) stinks and it’s a lifelong condition which revisits from time to time. Like everything else,  I have just learned to live with it and make it part of the story.
*read that as you wish….

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