Navigating a Miscarriage When You’re a Parent: Holding Grief and Motherhood at the Same Time

image source: Nicoletaionescu / Getty Images

Miscarriage is one of the most intimate, devastating losses a person can experience. It’s a loss that often happens in silence, behind closed doors- one that we navigate alone in bathrooms, in showers, in scratchy paper gowns on the doctor’s office table. Something that I feel we don’t acknowledge enough in the spaces where miscarriage is discussed, though, is how uniquely complex and impossibly heavy it can be to navigate when you are already a parent to living children.

At Wildflower Therapy, a group therapy practice in Philadelphia specializing in eating disorders, and women’s issues, we often hear from parents navigating the loneliness and heartbreak of miscarriage. Parents of living children frequently speak about how impossible it feels to grieve such a profoundly personal and gutting loss (and one that, at times, no one else knows they are going through) while needing to stay emotionally and physically available for the little ones already depending on them. I myself have experienced miscarriages while also having young children, and can confidently say it was a different kind of pain and struggle from the losses prior to being a parent. (I am not comparing these losses in difficulty level-they just felt like unique experiences.) If you find yourself in this position—or know someone who is, I want you to know: you are not alone, and ALL of your feelings are allowed here.

In this post, I’ll talk about what makes miscarriage while parenting uniquely challenging and ways to care for yourself through this time.

Why Miscarriage Feels Different When You’re Already a Parent

When you’ve experienced a miscarriage before having children, the grief is enormous. It is viscerally painful, and all-consuming for many. There is the omnipresent fear- “What if this happens again? What if I never get to be a mother?” It’s truly one of the darkest seasons that many will ever experience.

When you miscarry after becoming a parent, that fear of never accessing motherhood is no longer part of the struggle. But, you’re tasked with holding two enormous realities at once: profound loss and the constant demands of caregiving.

Some unique challenges include:

1. There’s No Time to Fall Apart

Parents of young children can speak to the *nearly universal* experience of their needs often coming second, or third, or last. This…somehow does not change when you are going through a miscarriage. It’s jarring, because your entire world feels like it is crumbling- you are trading life for death within your own body-and coping with the psychological torment of that fact- but your toddler still wants his very specific breakfast. Your preschooler still needs to be dropped off at school. You child still calls out for you in the middle of the night when she awakes with a fever. It would almost be comical if it weren’t so unimaginably painful. The grief can feel so huge, and it also feels like there is very little room for it.

There’s little space for long stretches of uninterrupted sobbing. Instead, sorrow comes in brief, jagged moments—during nap time, while folding laundry, or driving to preschool pick up. It can have the impact of making the grief feel suspended-or incomplete. This can feel akin to living a fever dream, pierced every so often by these incredibly painful snippets of mourning.

2. You’re Constantly Reminded of What You’ve Lost

Being surrounded by your children can be both a comfort and a source of acute pain. Every milestone, every giggle, every tiny hand reaching for yours can feel like a reminder of the sibling you so desperately wanted for them.

Many parents describe a strange sense of gratitude tangled with grief—thankful for the children they have, while mourning the one they didn’t get to keep. This emotional dissonance can feel isolating and difficult to voice out loud.

As someone who went through years of infertility and IVF before becoming a parent, I wrestled with that dissonance in a huge way. I kept remembering when all I wanted- all I wanted- was to be called mama by someone. I recalled feeling that people who were able to have a child should not complain ever again, because they accessed motherhood. So when later losses occurred, after I had children, I felt immense grief, but a constant, humming inner judgment about not being allowed to feel this way. This was especially loud when I had a miscarriage as a parent of two children. “Who will care?” I thought to myself. “They all secretly think you should just get over it, and count yourself lucky to have not one, but two beautiful kids here.” And the thing was, I did and do feel acutely, incredibly lucky. They are three and five now, and still, to this day, I go into their rooms every night, without fail, and gaze at them sleeping, wondering how this dream ever came true. How did I get this lucky? How are they real? AND- once I saw that last positive pregnancy test, my dream rapidly expanded to being a parent of three. I instantly thought of who would share a room, and what my daughter would look like in the role of big sis. I imagined how cool it would be for my son to be able to comprehend being a big brother in a real way (when I was pregnant his sister, he was one, and in *exactly 0 ways* did he understand what was about to happen to his world.) The holding of gratitude with grief is tricky, but feeling like that? Like you aren’t allowed to have the grief at all? That’s an even harder experience in my opinion. Which brings me to challenge number three:

3. You Might Feel You “Shouldn’t” Be This Devastated

I know I am not alone in that struggle. So many parents who go through a miscarriage after having children internalize that terribly harmful message: “At least you have kids.” This wildly invalidating sentiment often comes from loved ones, acquaintances, or friends. And even if it doesn’t, many people find themselves bracing for it, which leads many to the decision to share their loss with very few. It feels entirely too vulnerable to risk being in such pain, only to be reminded of why graititude is the important thing to hold in this moment.

You might find yourself thinking, I shouldn’t be this sad—I have healthy children. I should focus on them. But trust me when I say, grief doesn’t work that way. The love you have for your living children doesn’t cancel out the love you had for the baby you lost. And you aren’t just grieving the loss of your pregnancy- you are grieving the loss of the dream for your entire family. You are grieving watching your child in the role of big brother or sister. You are grieving watching the beams of your family unit expand as the love expands. This dream existed, and you deserve space to mourn it.

The Lonely Nature of Miscarriage Grief

Miscarriage grief can be profoundly isolating. It’s a loss that often goes unspoken, leaving those going through it to navigate the experience mainly alone. And, there is an added layer of loneliness to having the entire experience happen within your own body. You alone go through the waves of pain. You alone cope with the bleeding. You alone are left feeling like your body betrayed you.

When you’re already a parent, it’s even harder to carve out the emotional space you need. Many parents talk about feeling invisible in their grief—that because they’re still showing up at school pick-ups and birthday parties, others assume they’re okay. They are white knuckling it through the day, but going through the motions, so they seem like they are handling it so well.

If you’re reading this and it resonates, I want you to hear this clearly:
Your grief is valid. It matters. I know that you showing up for your children does not mean anything except that you know you do not have the choice to crumble. Your pain is still raw, real, and important. And you deserve support.

Ways to Care for Yourself While Parenting Through Miscarriage

There’s no roadmap for moving through miscarriage while parenting. But here are some gentle, realistic ways to tend to yourself in the midst of it:

1. Lower the Bar

You don’t have to be the “perfect parent” right now (or ever). Let screen time stretch longer than usual. Lean on easy dinners. Accept help when it’s offered—or ask for it, if you can. Lay in bed when you can snatch the opportunity to do so. I promise that your kid or kids will be ok with a less-present you right now. You will come back fully to them in time. Survival mode is real, and it’s okay to stay there for a while.

2. Find Micro-Moments for Grief

If long stretches of alone time aren’t possible, try to create tiny pockets for your grief. Cry in the car. Scribble your feelings in a journal for five minutes before bed. Light a candle after the kids are asleep. Small, intentional rituals can help honor your loss in ways that feel manageable.

3. Talk About It—When You’re Ready

Whether it’s with a trusted friend, partner, or therapist, give yourself permission to say the words out loud. Naming your experience can lessen the heaviness you’re carrying alone.

4. Honor your Loss

Create a small ritual or keepsake if it feels meaningful. Some parents plant a tree, get a tattoo, or wear a piece of jewelry. Others write a letter or name their baby privately.  I have small bracelets with the would-be birthstones for every baby I lost. I will never take them off. There’s no right or wrong way to mourn and remember.

What Support Can Look Like

You shouldn’t have to move through this alone. Compassionate care is available—and it matters. Therapy for miscarriage and infertility grief can help you:

• Process complex emotions like anger, jealousy, guilt, or numbness

• Navigate changes in your relationship, sex life, or family dynamics

• Find ways to grieve while parenting

• Explore decisions about future pregnancies

• Discuss the event of miscarriage itself- and share the story, in all of the detail that you feel called to- with another human. (One who dearly wants to take some of the weight off of your shoulders, and hold it with you so that you are not alone in it). 

• Feel seen, heard, and validated in a world that often silences this kind of loss

At Wildflower Therapy, we understand the particular heartache of miscarriage for parents with living children. As the director of the practice, I can say that I find that my own lived experience with this allows me an empathy that feels unending for others walking this lonely path. We offer individual therapy tailored to those going through miscarriage, infertility, or both- and navigating the complex grief of it all.

You Are Not Alone

If you’re a parent grieving a miscarriage, I see you. You are carrying so much, and none of it is easy. You are allowed to grieve your beautiful dream for your family, while also fierecely loving what is. You are allowed to feel exhausted, angry, grateful, heartbroken, and numb—sometimes all in the same hour.

Get in Touch

If you’re navigating pregnancy loss, infertility, or complex grief, you don’t have to do it alone. Contact Wildflower Therapy today to schedule a free consultation or learn more about our therapy services for miscarriage and infertility in Philadelphia and the Main Line towns.

Wildflower Therapy is a Philadelphia-based group practice specializing in eating disorders, depression, anxiety, OCD, infertility and loss, and maternal mental health. We offer in-person and virtual therapy services to support you through life’s most tender, complicated seasons.

By Dr. Colleen Reichmann, Psychologist & Owner of Wildflower Therapy in Philadelphia