by Eleanor Scott

Created on: May 30, 2009   Last Updated: June 02, 2009

To suffer a miscarriage is to suffer a very common fate, and yet a mysterious one. It is mysterious partly in the purely medical sense that the particular reasons why a given pregnancy self-terminates are usually unknown. But more than this, it is mysterious because people don't generally talk about it. And as one of the other writers on this topic has pointed out, there's a sense in which a miscarriage is always a private loss for the woman concerned, and maybe that's part of the mystery too.

I had a miscarriage in the early hours of New Year's Day this year, at precisely 12 weeks gestation. I'd had some slight bleeding for about a week beforehand, so I had some idea that all might not be well and the cramps didn't come as a total bolt from the blue. After a couple of hours of bad cramps, I felt everything just fall out of my insides. I staggered off to the bathroom and flushed it all away, then went back to bed.

My husband woke up and I told him what had happened. I thought I was coping really well. I still think I coped pretty well. But I really didn't appreciate the extent of the physical and emotional changes I would have to experience and adjust to over the next few weeks and months.

In the first place, when I felt that sudden sensation of the contents of my womb detaching themselves, I assumed that was it, that everything was out and that I'd just have a bit more bleeding. I thought I'd be able to concentrate on getting better. Instead I had more cramps and heavy bleeding, and three more lots of "stuff" being ejected over the course of several days, including what were clearly parts of the fetus.

Next, I had to talk to various midwives and doctors, including several people I'd never met before. I meant to be calm and sensible and factual, and instead I wept all over the place every time I had to discuss what was happening. What I felt was mainly shock and disappointment and an odd feeling of failure. The doctors warned me that I might have a "delayed grief reaction", but I didn't really know what they meant at the time.

I also had to tell the friends and family who knew that I was pregnant. Speaking to my parents about it was particularly difficult, although they were very good and didn't overreact. My female friends were very supportive, which I imagine may have been difficult for those who were pregnant themselves. One of my girlfriends had herself suffered two miscarriages in the past, so I was able to find out what had happened to her and how

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