Published By: HQ
Released On: 04/08/2022
Following pregnancy loss, it can feel like you’ve forgotten how to speak and need to learn a new language. You can tell your story to a room full of people but if no-one speaks this new language, they won’t understand. They will try but ultimately, they won’t fully grasp what you are saying.
This is us. This is our new language. It is a language built from pain, and it is a language we need to teach others. Welcome to our gang.
We are so, so sorry that you’ve found yourself here. It’s the gang you’d never chose to join but it is also a community chock-a-block full of kind, supportive, warrior women just like you.
We are here to tell you that you are entitled to grieve, and that your grief is not disproportionate to your loss. We are here to open up the dialogue around miscarriage, so we don’t perpetuate the shame, judgement and isolation so many of us feel following pregnancy loss. We are here to equip you with knowledge, tools and guidance to support and help you in whatever way you need.
Let’s get talking. Let’s get sharing. Let’s start empowering and supporting one another.
No more shame, no more taboo, no more silence.
Thanks to NetGalley and HQ for the advanced copy of this title in return for an honest review.
I am lucky that I have never experienced a miscarriage first hand, but I do know several friends and relatives who sadly have.
As someone reading this as an outsider, I was worried it would all be filled with scary stories, putting me off the very idea of pregnancy for fear of loss. But it didn’t. It doesn’t sugar coat things, it calls a spade a space, but it’s done in a positive, constructive way.
Due to a neurological condition, I have recently concluded I will probably be unable to physically bear a child or safely raise one, and whilst I fully acknowledge that is not the same thing as losing a baby you’re already expecting or already have, I do feel a kinship to the descriptions of grief and loss, as I’ve had to learn to accept that I may not get the family I’ve always dreamed of, and that can be hard to explain to someone.
I liked the personal stories. It could have so easily turned into a medical book full of scientific facts that overwhelm, but by balancing it with real-life experiences, it makes it a more human and relatable book.
I think it was important to show the father’s side as well as the mother’s. Everyone focussed on the woman who is pregnant because she’s the one who has Physio’s lost the baby, but the dads (or same-sex partner) have still lost their child, but they so often get pushed aside like their grief isn’t as important.
As bizarre as it sounds, it isn’t an overly sad book – or it wasn’t for me. Yes I admit there were a few times I had to have a break as I was getting too emotional to continue, but there’s also such hope in the stories.
There are a number of activities you can do that, for obvious reasons, I did not do, but they’re clearly explained and I imagine would be of great help for some.
I do think that no matter your gender, relationship status or views on parenthood, this book should be read. Whilst expecting parents may not want to see it in the maternity wards, it might be good to have it accessible in medical places for those “just in case” moments that we all hope will never happen.
Overall I would describe the book as a friend, as a shoulder to cry on, and as a lifeline.