Who are you without the badge?

If I’m being honest, I am tougher with the badge then I am without it. I try not to rely on the system in order to survive and I rarely go along with mainstream narratives as I believe that thinking for yourself is important. I believe in making a contribution to the planet and taking care of it.

I am a crunchy mom who believes in living off the land. We raise animals, hunt and fish and even have honey! I’m trying to raise human beings that critically think. I hope my children do not become the criminals we deal with while on the job. In our home we have rules with an understanding that respect, support and love is to be equally given and received.

What lies beneath what people see on the surface?

What lies beneath the labels is deep seated grief, sadness and sometimes anger for the two miscarriages that I had. I lost two babies within two years. Western medicine makes miscarriages sound so common and normal, therefore I didn’t grieve over it. There was a feeling of “oh well, I need to move on.” 

I wish I would’ve dealt with it earlier because now I have no choice but to deal with it. It’s harder to work through it when you’re forced to. It’s been two years and I’m still working through it with a therapist because there’s an overwhelming amount of grief. The grief arises out of nowhere and shows up in all forms. It’s easier to ignore and try to push past it but it isn’t that easy when something triggers it. The layers feel never ending and the emotions are so intense. These have been struggles that I didn’t know were going to be struggles and now they are mine to deal with it. 

Do you think there were defining factors that contributed to the miscarriages? 

The role stress plays in our health is vastly underestimated. It has societally become a badge of honor to fit more in and constantly be working, running or doing. For two years I was a crash reconstructionist. It was eye opening to realize the amount of stress this job carried, which I couldn’t see until I was no longer in that environment. 

After my first miscarriage I was asked how much stress I was under, I said none. After my 2nd one I quit that position and realized how much lighter I felt. I had learned how to adapt in that environment and didn’t have a clue as to the toll it was taking on my body. 

After the second miscarriage I realized something was wrong. All the tests showed normal and yet, intuitively I knew something wasn’t. I started working with an acupuncturist who confirmed I had more going on, which was later verified through a scan. Alternative practices started making the most sense in terms of how our bodies operate and finding the root cause. I learned that we are unknowingly consuming so much poison. This excessive intake is contributing to so many health ailments and people don’t realize that many of these issues stem from how we treat our body and what we put in it. However, insurance doesn’t cover a lot of alternative modalities so I stopped seeing some of these practitioners due to cost. Invitro was an option but it was a lot of money for no guarantee. I felt as though I’d done everything and yet it felt like dead end after dead end.

What is grief to you and what stages have you gone through? 

It’s not a learned process that is talked about or deemed as “normal.” Many just expect a person to move on after a miscarriage or loss. I just want to be able to talk about it without crying. It’s so hard. It feels as though I will never get to that point. There’s still people consuming drugs that are getting pregnant. It’s hard not to question why things are the way they are or why we get dealt the hands we do. 

Do you and your husband grieve differently? 

Completely. I watch him and wonder what I’m doing wrong. I feel as though I’m constantly comparing myself to him and everyone else. I don’t know if it’s the way society has trained men to cope with emotions or if it isn’t innately a part of them to express but it can feel as though we’re in two different universes when it comes to grief. It makes me feel like I should be further along in the journey then I am. 

How has your faith played a role in coping?

I have always relied on the church and spiritual practice to get me through tough times. I made a bargain with God after my last miscarriage that “If I can’t carry a baby full term then I don’t want to get pregnant” and I haven’t been pregnant since I said that. Be careful what you wish for because sometimes it can come true in a way you didn’t intend.

It feels impossible not to ask questions like WHY or HOW?! Miscarriages happen to people everyday. How can I get pregnant and deliver one child and then not be able to carry full term after that? I don’t understand it. God made our bodies to have babies and yet mine feels defective. What am I doing wrong? What have I done to deserve this? Why is this happening to me? Why our babies? Why are people who don’t want children able to conceive when they won’t care for them? Then, I’ll read a bible verse that often provides a sense of peace. It’s a tug of war with my faith. I think many that have faced adversity can relate. It doesn’t fix the situation that’s happening, but it can provide some insight and internal peace knowing that this is all for a larger cause, whether I can see it or not.   

What is something you want others to know about miscarriages? 

Grieving is hard but it’s important. Get whatever help you need, whether that’s therapy, a support group or seeking out alternative practices. I have sought out different modalities on my journey and learned something from each of them. Recently, I wrote letters to the babies and got a tattoo in their memory. I was surprised at the weight that was lifted after getting the tattoo, it was the relief I very much needed. 

Despite what societal norms say, it is a loss and it’s taxing on your body. Allow yourself time to recover physically, mentally and emotionally and know that each person’s journey is specific to them. Most importantly, remember that you are not alone and you deserve the support! 

** Don’t forget to read “Part 1” of Kara’s story, “Chasing Tailights.“**