Midwife tells: Episode 1 - Fear of miscarriage

The fear of abortion doesn't end at 12 weeks' gestation - but you can learn to deal with the fear of losing your baby

Today I met Tanja, who had obviously been dealing with the midwife shortage, because she contacted me in the 8th week of labour to get my midwife help. And she wanted to see me straight away. No, she couldn't wait two weeks for the first appointment. She wanted to see me now - practically immediately. She said she needed to know who was there for her and her worries. I am a midwife. Of course I'm there for her worries. And of course I'm also there for her worries as soon as they arise. And so I met her today to talk to her about God and the world and her new pregnancy. She's already been to the doctor. He confirmed what Tanja already knew: she is pregnant. He could see the little heart beating in the ultrasound. That reassured Tanja a little. But only briefly. Because then she started bleeding slightly. "Completely normal," she read on the internet. "A sign of a miscarriage" she read on the internet. Two statements. Two possibilities, each with dramatically different consequences. Tanja was not reassured. Now she was really scared. Next appointment with the gynaecologist. The baby's heart was still beating. The doctor gave the all-clear. But Tanja wasn't any more reassured. I listened to her and asked myself what I could do to allay Tanja's fears.

It's not my way of sugar-coating things. Of course, she may also be one of the women who have a miscarriage. But it's also not my way of fuelling fear. After all, many women stay pregnant.

It was our first appointment today. Tanja doesn't know me that well. I was therefore feverishly searching for the right words. I realised that I couldn't tell her that she wouldn't lose the baby. She had this bleeding from time to time. Many women have that. That doesn't say much at first. Apart from that, everything in her case spoke in favour of a normal pregnancy. But of course there are also the statistics: many women have an abortion. That can be frightening. But sometimes fear is also a premonition. So I continued to listen to her. And as she talked about her life, her job, her partner, her medical history, I realised that this woman had wanted to have children for a long time. She had problems with her uterus, which first had to be recognised and then operated on. Then the wounds had to heal. Her desire to have children had to wait longer and longer. Finally she was allowed to become pregnant. And now it has finally worked. What a miracle! What a joy! How much hope! And, of course, understandable fear.

Tanja wants a baby, like so many other women. Tanja is afraid of losing it, like all other mothers. When I think of myself as a mother, I can empathise with all the other mothers. Because I was also terrified of losing my children. If I'm honest, I actually still am. Every day anew. So I sat with Tanja, felt my fear, felt Tanja's fear and then I remembered what helps me with my fear. Maybe it could help Tanja. And so I told Tanja how I deal with this fear of losing my own child. I admit that I have to practise it every day. My trick is not a trick that I have to do once and then I'm never afraid again. Quite the opposite. I have accepted that this fear of loss is simply normal and that I need to look for a role model who is less afraid than I am. I looked for the obvious role model:

My baby.

Have you ever looked at a baby smiling at you full of trust? Have you ever seen a child's smile so full of confidence that it is thrown into the air by its dad while playing? It is absolutely certain that it will be caught. I would have incredibly little confidence of being caught if I was playfully thrown into the air. Children are so dependent. And children are so full of trust in the world. They think everything is fine. They feel everything will be fine. I can recognise eternity in their faces. By the way, crying at birth is completely different. It sounds to me like an outrageous rebellion against loss. I don't hear grief, but rather anger.

I imagined the baby's face full of trust again and again during my pregnancy. What peace and security the baby will radiate when it lies in my arms. And then I thought to myself that my trusting baby deserved the same from me. It also deserved me to trust it. And that's what I did. I simply returned the trust. My baby trusted that I was feeding it healthily in my belly. I trusted him to develop healthily in my belly. That felt to me like I could give the baby an equal gift. My baby gave me courage. My baby took away my fear of loss. My baby later showed me again and again that there will always be new small losses. And also that this is good.

It starts with the birth. I later realised how much loss and farewell there is in weaning, how much loss and farewell there is in his defiant phase. My child moved further and further away from me. But you know what: he never lost trust in me.

The gift has stayed with me. And I have continued to give this gift back to my child again and again.

Whenever I'm worried about my child today, I conjure up the face of my little baby immediately after birth in my mind's eye.

And then I know again: I don't have to be afraid of loss. I can have confidence that my baby, my child, already knows what to do so that everything will be okay in the end.

I told Tanja that. And she beamed. I saw the radiance of her baby on her face. I was happy. My story conjured up the confidence of her baby on her face. In her mind, her baby was already in her arms at that moment. For that moment, the bleeding was forgotten. In that moment there was only joy, only hope. She gave her child confidence and she went home a happy giver.

Maybe this trick can help you too. That's why I'm telling you this story.