"I Had a Miscarriage" by Jessica Zucker

In October 2012, alone at home and 16 weeks into her second pregnancy, Jessica Zucker experienced a traumatic miscarriage. The baby was a girl she later named Olive -- a favourite name of her older son, Liev. A psychologist specializing in reproductive and maternal mental health issues, Zucker suddenly found herself relating to her patients in an entirely different way.  

Almost exactly two years later, an article she wrote detailing what she'd lived through that was published in the New York times on Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Day 2014. Her use of the hashtag #IHadaMiscarriage went viral, and led to the creation of her popular Instagram account of the same name. 

In "I Had a Miscarriage: A Memoir, a Movement," Zucker tells her personal story as well as the stories of some of her patients, backed up with research and statistics. This will all be painfully familiar territory to anyone who has experienced pregnancy loss:  the shock and trauma of the loss itself, the pressure -- from others and ourselves -- to move forward quickly, the "strident trifecta" of silence, stigma and shame that women experience after a miscarriage, the exhaustion from dealing with others' shocked reactions and dismissive platitudes ("at least..."), the anxiety of enduring a subsequent pregnancy, and the healing to be found in honouring our losses and in connecting with others who have been through similar situations.  

Full marks to Zucker for acknowledging (particularly in Chapter 12) that "Sometimes rainbows follow storms. Sometimes they don't." 

Blindingly relying on the comforting notion that every traumatic storm is followed by beautiful, awe-inspiring happiness is common within the pregnancy- and infant-loss community. But we all know this isn't always the case. Some people don't go on to get pregnant again. Some get pregnant and have yet another loss. Some stop trying to conceive altogether. So while this hopeful message is encouraging for some, it might feel alienating to others, and in ways that are not always obvious...  Alternative outcomes -- outcomes that do not consist of full-term pregnancies and babies wrapped in rainbow-colored blankets -- deserve to be acknowledged too... Sometimes a rainbow follows, and sometimes it doesn't. Sometimes a rainbow is a child, and sometimes it's the renewal of vows, a career milestone, a new sense of self, the ability to self-love. 

This is a great addition to the existing (and, happily, growing) literature about pregnancy loss. Four (4 & 1/2) stars on Goodreads. 

This was Book #20 read to date in 2021 (and Book #4 finished in April), bringing me to 56% of my 2021 Goodreads Reading Challenge goal of 36 books. I am (for the moment, anyway...!) 10 books ahead of schedule. :)  You can find reviews of all my books read to date in 2021 tagged as "2021 books."