This will be a (relatively) short issue because, well, it’s sad for a Friday. But it’s also very important (especially since it’s Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day).
Loss is such a tough subject, so please skip reading this issue if you need to. We’ll catch ya on the flip side. ♥
Content triggers in our darkest times
If you or someone you know has lost a pregnancy or a child, it’s a devastating experience. And since the stigma and secrecy of miscarriage is still so prevalent, it’s not obvious to followers, brands, and algorithms.
We talked about how parenting accounts smell your extra surge of estrogen and start targeting your feed with “Best Monitors of 2021” or “Unique Hipster Baby Names That Begin with ‘P.’” Social media forgets to factor in the 10-15% of pregnancies that are lost in the first 20 weeks (aka a miscarriage).
Pregnancy loss brings a whole new level of insensitivity to parenting social media, which I’ve experienced firsthand.
I had an early-term miscarriage before I got pregnant with my son. Even though the baby was gone and my body was no longer growing (except maybe with emotional-support carbs), I was served post after post of ✨ pregnancy glow ✨ content.
It didn’t make me feel amazing to keep receiving newsletters and push notifications reminding me that my nonexistent fetus was the size of a strawberry during that time.
Parents struggling with infertility or infant loss must experience the worst of this, with potential years spent trying to conceive and seeing parents complaining about having to cuddle their baby. Imagine every visit to social media triggering sadness.
Idea: wouldn’t it be nice if Instagram had a setting to toggle on and off content triggers? This could be used for so. many. things.
Normalizing loss can help us heal.
I believe these content triggers are so painful because there is still so much shame, stigma, and lack of awareness surrounding pregnancy loss. When we start to normalize and talk about trials that are so common (e.g., miscarriages), it can help those who experience them feel supported and validated.
We don’t need to broadcast our experiences with loss, but we can share them.
For me personally, I had only told a handful of people about my first pregnancy. The loss happened the weekend before my first 8-week appointment while we had friends visiting from out of town.
The cramping pain was excruciating, and the bleeding was unsettling. I knew something was wrong. Since it was the weekend, my OB said to ride it out and come in that Monday. I stayed in bed all day, and our friends totally understood that we had to shift plans.
We had nicknamed that baby “Baby Shark” (before the song got popular), and I remember walking the beach the next day and asking God to let me find a shark tooth if everything was okay. I didn’t find one. The Monday ultrasound confirmed what I’d been afraid to think about.
Thankfully, I was able to talk to a few close friends and mourn with them (one good friend sent me an oversized Aerie sweatshirt, and it was the perfect “wallow in this baggy outfit when you need to” gift).
I’m so glad I had these people to surround and love on my husband and me during this time. Talking about it helped me move on and look forward to when we could try again.
Pregnancy loss is not easy, even if the person “moves on” quickly.
I could say so much more about pregnancy loss, but we can save that for another time.
Go check out this post by @ihadamiscarriage on Instagram instead. I love everything about it (especially the “what to say” and “what not to say” slides).
Please practice compassion, empathy, and being a safe space for those who may experience pregnancy or infant loss. If it’s you, talk about it (to loved ones or to your thousands of followers). Use your platform if you have one. Let’s normalize this heartache so many parents endure.
I’d love to hear about your experience with pregnancy or infant loss and how you’ve coped — comment or find a safe space in my Twitter DMs.