Miscarriage.

It's a topic everyone wants to ignore. Just glaze over it and hope it all goes away.

Let me just tell you, it doesn't.

It's taken me a long time to get to the point where I can put this into words. And even now, certain words, pictures and thoughts can bring me to tears. If you think knowing someone who had a miscarriage is rough, try being that person.

Yes, I lost my first baby. People who haven't experienced it sometimes say it doesn't count because I didn't give birth. Because we didn't have a full-on nursery with a complete set of baby clothes waiting. While I hope to God I never experience the pain of a late term loss or losing my child after it's born...I was pregnant, I loved my baby, I had hopes and dreams for it just like any mother would. So no, I don't think that losing my baby early makes me any less of a mother.

The short version of our story is like a lot of couples. We started "trying by not preventing" and to our amazement, became pregnant almost immediately. The excitement was incredible - no one knew we were even thinking about trying so it was a huge surprise to all of our family and close friends. At the first appointment, we saw our little peanut and saw that glorious heart beating. Looking back now, the ultrasound tech clearly saw something we didn't and we were asked to come back a week later. One week later, our baby's heartbeat was gone.

I can't even explain to you the amount of pain that covers your entire body when you find out the child you're carrying has no heartbeat. I cried for days, I didn't sleep and only ate when someone forced me to. It's a pain that compares to nothing else I have ever experienced. You go through guilt, wondering if it was something you did. You go through anger, asking God why He took your baby - a baby that was wanted and would be loved, when so many other babies come into this world so unwanted or unloved. You go through embarassment - so many people you know were able to carry their babies full term so what is wrong with you and your body?

But since no one wants to talk about it, no one ever knows how to react. So here's a list of 5 things that I feel like were important and I wished people had known. This may not apply to 100% of everyone who has experienced loss of course, but judging from an online loss forum I'm a part of, I would say most women agree.

1.  Don't call. Yes, I know you think a good friend would call to cheer you up, to offer condolences. Don't do it. Text, email, send a card or flowers. But don't call. If your friend is like me, I wouldn't even answer the phone - not even for my best friend in the world. The only people I could talk to were my husband and my mother. Letting someone know that they're in your thoughts and prayers is perfect. But don't force them to talk on the phone when they are trying to work through all of these emotions and hormones. I'm a pretty talkative and upbeat person normally. But even when I was on the phone with my mom, it was pretty quiet conversations.

2.  Don't constantly post ultrasound pictures on Facebook or post about nothing but your children. Yeah, I know - once you have kids they're your life. I get it. But what you may not get is that chances are, people on your friends list have experienced the loss of a baby. Put yourself in their shoes. You just lost your baby. Do you think you could handle seeing picture after picture in your newsfeed? Now, before you get all bent out of shape - I know it's pretty unrealistic to ask people to not post nonstop about their baby/children. But don't get offended when people aren't liking/commenting on your posts. If we even have our Facebook active after all those postings (I deactivated mine for 6 months), we've probably blocked you. Don't take it personally. It's part of our recovery. We'll be back eventually.

3. Don't assume that we don't want to talk about it. But don't assume we do want to talk about it either. For me, it depended on the day and the person. Some days (and this was months later) I was able to talk about it with certain people and it was really therapeutic for me. Some days I just couldn't talk about it.

4. Let them know you're thinking about them, especially when real life kicks back in. It doesn't have to be with words or expensive gifts. One of the few women at work that I had confided in pre-miscarriage left a flower on my desk on the day I finally came back to work. Yes, I cried for about 2 hours after that, but it made me feel so cared about. If you think coming back to work after having a baby is hard, try coming back to work after you just lost your baby. Then you'll know the definition of crying all day. I had a D&C with my miscarriage, which kept me pumped with drugs for days. Drugs plus leftover hormones equals painstakingly long days. Having to go back to work was harder than you can imagine. The smallest thing would trigger my tears. I was lucky enough to have a boss who was extremely compassionate - if I needed to leave, I was cleared to just walk out the door whenever.

5. Don't call to say you're pregnant. Oh man. I got a double whammy with this. My sister in law and best friend both became pregnant right after me - they are now due less than a month later than I was originally due. This goes back to #1 on my list. Look, I know you're trying to be a good friend and do the right thing. But even if this announcement is coming months later, it's still more painful than you can imagine. Email or text first. Then we have time to process the news, cry if we need to and grieve for our baby. We're happy for you - promise. But we're sad for ourselves at the same time. There's so many bittersweet emotions involved. Forcing us to put on a happy face for your pregnancy when we're still grieving our own is cruel - a well intentioned cruel, but cruel. We chat, we muster up the happiest voice we can manage, and as soon as we can, we get off the phone and cry our eyes out. Let us process the information and grieve on our own, then when we're able to talk to you, the happiness will be genuine.

Just remember that miscarriage changes a person, especially when it's their first. The rose colored glasses are gone. The excitement over a new pregnancy will still be there, but the stress is constant. Appointment days are terrifying. I cringe when I see people post about their pregnancies on Facebook when they're only 8 or 9 weeks into it. Or even before their first trimester.

It doesn't matter how good it looks or how good of health you're in. It can happen to anyone and I'm proof of that.