The mitzvah of mikveh was explained to me in many beautiful ways: It’s an opportunity to connect with our spouse. It provides a rhythm and structure in an otherwise hectic life. It’s a reminder to make sure we’re prioritizing our relationship. It’s a fresh start, every time you go. It’s a trip to the spa. It’s a chance to pamper yourself. It’s a prime time to pray for things you need before you head back home to the rush of life.
It’s not that I don’t think about those lofty thoughts, sometimes, and maybe, just maybe, if we had a master bath with a nice tub with Jacuzzi features, maybe it would be easier to remember.
But considering the grit on the bottom of our shared family bathtub, it’s not exactly a spa experience. I don’t usually feel pampered so much as harried and mildly grossed out.
Even if the tub was pristine, the idea of relaxing me-time is hard to tap into when I can hear the chaos of bedtime just outside the thin bathroom door. When I jump every time little hands rattle the locked doorknob. There are times of year when it is more relaxing, when the sun sets later in the day, but that feeling of tension from the bedtime routine doesn’t wash off so quickly. It lingers.
The actual mikveh experience is usually nice enough. There’s something about the waters that make me feel directly connected to God, that make me feel refreshed on the deepest level.
I quickly whisper prayers, my thoughts and dreams, during that precious final immersion.
“Please help me with shalom bayis.”
“Please help my children succeed.”
“Please help me be more patient.”
“Please help me not have another miscarriage.”
That last request was a new one for me. For ten years I didn’t experience that kind of loss. I was one of those charmed women who got pregnant relatively easily and had uneventful pregnancies, save for the one where I gained a little too much weight.
In the past, when comforting a friend who had experienced a miscarriage, I was only ever able to give remote empathy, to listen and support from the distance of someone who didn’t have personal knowledge of that kind of pain.
When I realized I was pregnant with my fifth child, I was happy but relaxed enough that when the first available appointment wasn’t until I was eleven weeks along, I didn’t push for an earlier date. This wasn’t my first rodeo. I could wait a few extra weeks to start that relentless schedule of regular appointments.
In the doctor’s office, I innocently made pleasant small talk with the nurse, who had raised five children of her own. We chuckled about what a handful little boys could be, those rascals. She deposited me in the exam room and I waited for my doctor, new to me since our relocation back to Cleveland.
As my doctor was preparing to start the ultrasound she asked me, “Are you happy you’re pregnant?”
“Yes,” I replied.
“Good.”
Then, instead of that familiar rapid whoosh whoosh whooshing of the little heartbeat, nothing.
“Your bladder is very full,” she commented. I had just emptied it prior to entering the exam room. Where was the baby? Why couldn’t she find it? Was she incompetent?
She tried a different kind of ultrasound.
“This baby doesn’t look eleven weeks,” she said.
“Too big or too small?” I asked. Not that it mattered. Not that I knew anything except that this was not how this appointment was supposed to be going.
What she didn’t tell me, even though I knew, I knew, was that my baby wasn’t alive.
Then she told me she was sending me to the big ultrasound office to see if they could find the heartbeat. What she didn’t tell me, even though I knew, I knew, was that my baby wasn’t alive.
The ultrasound doctor confirmed my fears, handing me a box of tissues as I started sobbing. I was startled by the intensity of my reaction. Once I was more composed, I was shuttled back to my ob-gyn’s office to talk about what to do next. What to do besides feel like I had crossed into a parallel universe where now I would be able to empathize with my friends. Where I joined the ranks of the many, countless women who had lost a baby.
Of course, I hadn’t “lost” the baby. What a ridiculous euphemism. That was something else I noticed. The language to describe this experience was either very blunt or very avoidant. It made it hard to talk about. Harder than it already was.
I survived the next difficult couple of weeks with the support of my incredible friends, my family, and my therapist. I was surprised at just how much I withdrew from the world during that time. I don’t normally react to loss or pain in that way, but I suppose this is the most personal loss I’ve endured, so of course it could have the capability to surprise me.
It is a uniquely personal experience, and it was hard for me to accept that whatever I was feeling was okay, that I didn’t have to feel the same way my friends did. That it was okay to be sad, but it was also okay to not be sad. That there wasn’t a time constraint on how long or short it took me to find my footing again. That it was okay to view this loss as something more complex, something where I could feel both disappointment and relief.
By the time I was ready to go to the mikveh, I was more or less on emotionally stable ground again. I was able to joke around at carpool, schmooze with neighbors and wasn’t really thinking about my miscarriage all that much.
I prepared in the slightly rushed mindset that I usually found myself in on these nights. It was just another trip to the mikveh, nothing felt out of the ordinary at all, not until I approached the front door of the building.
I was overcome with a pronounced feeling of unfairness. I wasn’t supposed to be here tonight. I was supposed to be avoiding wine and raw sushi and deli meat and complaining about heartburn and how often I needed to run to the restroom.
And then I thought about how many women have had to go to the mikveh after a miscarriage, how many of us are going through these familiar motions, not knowing when we might be blindsided by the emotions of our loss.
I cried after I immersed. It was a spontaneous emotional cleansing after the systematic spiritual cleansing of the mikveh.
I feel a renewed strength and courage, that whatever unexpected feelings or pains that arise, I will get through them.
For the first time since my miscarriage, I don’t feel scared about getting pregnant again. For those first few weeks I didn’t think I’d be able to bear going through that again. I felt like I would just crumple. But, true to the potential for renewal that we have access to with the mitzvah of mikveh, I feel a renewed strength and courage, that whatever unexpected feelings or pains that arise, I will get through them.
And, though I would rather have awakening experiences that don’t come with a healthy portion of pain, I have been feeling a renewed desire to reconnect more deeply with my own spiritual practice. To embrace that whatever happens in my life, it’s something I am meant to experience. To treat mikveh as more than just another thing on my to-do list. To turn my thoughts and heart more frequently to God.
I am sad for what I lost, but grateful for what I have gained, and those feelings of grief and gratitude are impossible to separate from each other. I am grateful to be alive and to experience the messiness of life.
(12) IrisB, July 5, 2018 1:29 PM
Miscarriage was a blessing
I had experienced gynecological problems and was told that getting pregnant and staying pregnant might be an issue. Our first pregnancy was unexpected, he is now 41 and a wonderful man.
Getting pregnant the second time was not easy. I miscarried at 8 weeks (the bleeding started on my birthday, took a week to be over). Of course I was disappointed, but I reminded myself that most miscarriages at that early stage is because the fetus is not viable or healthy. I was easily able to wipe away the sadness.
Six months later I found myself pregnant again. I did not worry or have any apprehensions, knowing full well that everything was going to be great this time around. My optimism was spot on. My son is now 37 with a wonderful family of his own.
I am forever grateful for the miscarriage. Everyone wants their children to be healthy, that is a given. Instead of keeping a "bad" pregnancy and having a baby that would suffer terribly in life (if they live long at all), I gave birth to a very healthy and wonderful baby boy who turned into a terrific man. If I did not have that miscarriage, I would not have had that son that I have. The miscarriage, for me, was a blessing.
(11) Anonymous, July 5, 2018 4:38 AM
Thank you for this article
As a person who has had children and also has experienced infertility issues along the way I can really relate to this article. When I had a couple of miscarriages I really felt the pain in a similar way to you. It's a lonely path when one is experiencing miscarriages and infertility. What has helped me is knowing that the One who gave this test is the One who can take it away, it's all from Hashem and nothing is random. I wish for you and for all of Klal Yisrael many healthy pregnancies.
(10) Denise, July 2, 2018 9:56 PM
Possible Answer
What a lovely article. I am sorry that you are experiencing difficult times. I have a possible suggestion for you that you probably haven't heard of. First off, there's a doctor who has so much lifetime experience in medicine, really mineral deficiencies in humans and animals) that he was able to sue the FDA 8 times. IN fact, Dr. Joel Wallach is the one who took the FDA to court and demanded that the FDA require pregnant women to take 800 mcg of folate. He also has discovered that a zinc deficiency can cause Down's Syndrome, and a selenium and other deficiencies causes muscular dystrophy. SOund crazy? Well vitamin C curved scurvy, didn't it? And lo and behold, I found this web site on miscarriages for you, and guess what it says? A deficiency in minerals causes miscarriages!! As a woman has several children, her own stores of minerals in her body get depleted, leaving less and less for for future children . https://sites.google.com/site/miscarriageresearch/vitamins-and-miscarriage/magnesium . This is most likely your problem. We take Dr. Wallach's supplememts (without hechsher) because he's curing diseases; it's what the body needs, but you can choose a different brand of highly potent minerals, if you can even find something as highly potent as his brand Youngevity. Best of luck and health to you. May Hashem lead you to a cure for miscarriages and bless you with a healthy baby.
(9) David Swaggerty, July 1, 2018 9:40 PM
Tears from a Gentile Pastor
Thank you for sharing your emotional journey. I cried with you for your loss and shed tears of joy for your Spiritual growth through this emotional time. I’m so glad you shared and I found it . I was truly touched and blessed. G-d Bless you! David
(8) Liora, July 1, 2018 9:15 PM
Thank you
I'm so sorry for your loss but so glad you shared your grief. It is good to hear that someone could grieve a fifth child. Few people understand wanting more than two or three children. I had a miscarriage after three successful pregnancies. I wept every month (18) until I got pregnant with my fourth child. Later I was blessed with a fifth. Blessings on your head
(7) Craig Keebler, July 1, 2018 8:28 PM
Miscarriage: a common part of normal family growth
As a gynecologist, I am astounded at how secretive a miscarriage event is particularly in the frum community. This is truly a source of unnecessary grief. A miscarriage while an emotional loss for the couple in reality is in most cases a highly protective mechanism by which the body defends against overwhelming mismatches of genetic material. Prior to ultrasound, most early miscarriages were simply interpreted as late periods. Now, with super early pregnancy tests and early ultrasounds, most of those early losses are well documented and sadly interpreted as massive loses portending long-term fertility problems. Nothing could be further from the truth. If couples were more open about their miscarriage experiences, young couples not just gynecologists would understand that 20-25% of pregnancies end in miscarriage and that is not a bad thing.
Anonymous, July 2, 2018 2:33 AM
Really?
Ah, spoken like a true man. You may have seen them but if you’ve never gone though one you don’t know the pain.
IrisB, July 19, 2018 9:29 PM
Pain is not required
When I had my miscarriage in the 8th week of pregnancy, I was initially sad. (It took a week of heavy bleeding and dealing with a 2 1/2 year old suffering with a high fever and ear infection, which I caught as well.). But I quickly remembered that miscarriages this early on is largely because the fetus is not viable or very unhealthy. I quickly came to regard the miscarriage as a blessing. It certainly was. Six months later I conceived my second child who is now 37 with a simply wonderful family. My miscarriage was a good thing. Glad it happened.
(6) Anonymous, July 1, 2018 4:54 PM
Been There (in different "There's")-- Love and Healing to All
Rivka brought home to me yet again that a soul in gestation has a holy purpose in G-d's plan, and, like a living child/soul, helps bring us closer to G-d and mitzvoth. We think the point is for us to help the souls, and it IS. But G-d also made it symbiotic. Meanwhile, Chana heard statements that seemed to too quickly say "look on the bright side," in spiritual terms. It reminds me that it's helpful to pray-- and THANK-- to be able to find or form Torah based support groups (they do exist, but more is also better), and it can be just one friend or "kallah teacher," to help one get to positive outlooks in appropriate stages while the reality is that, thank G-d, busy, quick life with child after child being born in our community keeps going on... with the banging on the door etc. Having experienced miscarriages at different stages, I feel obliged to mention that a Rabbi should be consulted since when there's a long gestation, a burial is required where the parents are involved, but also kept out of things. It does help the mourning process, knowing the souls will return in the time of the Resurrection of the Dead (See Maimonides' "Thirteen Principles of Faith") I personally didn't mourn properly for any miscarriage, or feel I could ask for support, having been raised in the secular society that overall doesn't value life or acknowledge loss. I felt "oh, it's not such a big deal" in comparison to the "silent scream" of so many girls and women I grew up with, and those who are still trapped in a CULTure that has no path to viable marriage, with a man and women committed to each other and trying to become parents, but rather, offers unclear "relationships", and ample "counselling" for women to "choose" loss... It's so very painful. I pray for my sisters (and brothers). May all find their way to Torah as Jews or Noahides, and to renewal. From where I am now, I find "Family Purity" review courses to be so very helpful. Blessings to all.
(5) Anonymous, July 1, 2018 4:34 PM
Miscarriage
We had a miscarriage in 1948 and grieved for years but now in my faith feel it was a little boy child and he is waiting for his mother and is with his father and loved ones.
Anonymous, July 1, 2018 6:09 PM
Response to Anonymous regarding miscarriage in 1948
Dear Anonymous: I am so sorry for your loss. I wish you well.
You are such a special lady. It is amazing that G-d has allowed two "anonymous"es who are of very different ages and stages of life, and probably live miles away from each other, and have never met, to elevate technology and share expressions of faith in G-d, life after life, and enduring love. You gave me quite a boost. Thank you. Thank G-d. I can't wait until you are reunited with your child, his father, and all the loved ones with the complete revelation of Moshiach and the Redemption. I thank G-d for you, Aish HaTorah, the participants in this article and comments, the readers, and so many others for helping to make it happen. We are in the "three weeks", a time when we are sort of feeling together the loss of the Holy Temples in Jerusalem. As G-d enables us to support each other through it, we are part of the third and eternal Holy Temple, built so strongly, coming down here on earth, with us together forever from all generations etc. A message to searching souls: Keep going to G-d, Who loves you and has a plan for you in particular. You are a precious individual who can be redeemed from all past pains--which DO have purpose-- keep searching and finding in the Torah. By trying to go through your journey with faith, you help towards the Redemption for all, with unique qualifications based on your experience. Keeping a "Thank You, G-d" journal, and reviewing it, helps. Again, I am so grateful for the "Anonymous" special lady who wrote in. And that goes for other comments as well. I just had to respond to this one in particular, who is likely a venerable elderly person. G-d bless you.
(4) Anonymous, July 1, 2018 4:01 PM
I lost a twin
It was early in a long-awaited pregnancy after many years of infertility that I started bleeding. I rushed to the doctor's office in a panic. An ultrasound showed that there was still a baby with a beating heart -- but also a "lost twin" -- how strange to have a miscarriage and still be pregnant! When I went to the mikva, still pregnant, it was with a strange bittersweet feeling, sorrow and joy mixed -- one lost baby but one living baby. I surprised myself at how sad I felt about losing the twin even while being so grateful for my baby, Baruch Hashem. My baby is all grown up now and of course the sadness at having a sort-of miscarriage has long since lifted. I have other children B'H but I haven't forgotten my daughter's "ghost twin" and sometimes think wistfully of what might have been.
(3) Janet Kasten Friedman, July 1, 2018 2:15 PM
Honest writing!
When I had a miscarriage (it was a generation ago!) it was after a few months of "bed rest". During that time, I read in my "pregnancy book" (they change with each decade) and found out that ONE IN EVERY 6 (!) pregnancies end in miscarriage! As Chana in the previous comment said, it is very common; but I had no idea it was THAT common! After that, I looked around: of the women I knew who had large families, almost all of them had had at least one miscarriage! Some women whispered it to me as a shared secret, showing me how everyone feels scared and alone! So I kept repeating to myself: "This is not unusual. It happens to most families. This year, it was my turn!" Of course I was still unhappy and cried; but reminding myself that I was not alone, that this was not some kind of freakish curse with which I was being punished, helped me a lot.
(2) Anonymous, July 1, 2018 2:09 PM
Thank you for your very true thoughts about immersing in the mikva after a miscarriage. I would love to see an article from a woman who did not have the privelage to have other children before her miscarriage. It is a much more painful experience when you don’t have those children banging on the door and you don’t have the chance to hug your already born children....
Anonymous, July 1, 2018 2:33 PM
Miscarriages before and after having children
I agree and disagree with "Anonymous". I've suffered 10 miscarriages in all - 3 losses, 3 children, 7 losses, 2 children. The feeling of the losses before having children is like "a black hole". Everything you do in your daily life, you are engulfed in your sadness. When I suffered miscarriages after having children in some way it was worse - I was more aware of what I had lost. I looked at my 3 children and cried even more. But also I didn't have as much time to think about it, because there was always a kid "banging on the door" or needing something else. So my thoughts were distracted. And then when they came back, sometimes they hit even harder. Hugs to any woman who has lost a baby at any stage of its life!!!
Anonymous, July 1, 2018 5:19 PM
No, it’s not worse
Sorry, but no it is not worse to have a miscarriage when you have children at home. It’s worse to go home to an empty house where your (7) children should be.
(1) Chana, July 1, 2018 8:39 AM
Thank you so much for finally sensitively covering this topic. I find there is a massive lack in understanding in our community about pregnancy loss, stillbirth and infertility and often the advice quoted is inappropriate ("don't be jealous of others but just be happy", "it's Hashem's will" without letting a woman mourn her loss at all which would be the healthy and normal response). I hope this story will help people to be more sensitive and understand the pain of a woman who loses a pregnancy (it is actually very common!).