3 Things I Wish I'd Known About Working Through Miscarriages
11 years ago, I was rushed into emergency surgery after a ruptured ectopic pregnancy. For weeks, I'd been crossing the bridge from my office to St Thomas's EPU and back again, hiding what was happening, pretending to be fine at work.
The trauma of my life being at risk. The loss of my baby. And the absolutely knackering performance of acting like nothing was wrong.
If you're working through fertility loss right now, whether it's a miscarriage, ectopic pregnancy, failed IVF cycle, you're probably doing the same thing I did. Compartmentalising, hiding and pushing through.
Here are three things I wish someone had told me then.
1. Hiding it makes the physical recovery harder, not easier
I thought if I just kept my head down and powered through, it would be easier than dealing with people's reactions or questions. Turns out I was wrong.
Your body needs time to recover after pregnancy loss. Doesn't matter how early it was. Doesn't matter that other people have been through worse. The mental load of hiding it while your body is trying to heal is massive. Let alone the physical recovery of all the hormone changes, surgery and medication. You're running on empty and pretending the tank's full.
I did take time off but I went back too soon. I sat in meetings feeling like I might pass out when the wound from my ectopic surgery got infected, but smiled and nodded along. The physical exhaustion combined with the emotional exhaustion of the performance nearly broke me.
What to do instead
What I know now is that you don't need to share details but you do need to give yourself permission to not be at 100%. Take the time off you need, you're entitled to it. If you're not ready to tell people what happened saying "I'm recovering from a medical procedure" is enough. And adjust your expectations for 2-4 weeks minimum, not 2-4 days.
2. Your performance might dip but that doesn't mean you're failing
I genuinely believed that if I was capable enough, strong enough, hard working enough, professional enough, I could compartmentalise well enough that my work wouldn't suffer.
What actually happened was I couldn't concentrate. I'd forget things mid-conversation. I'd stare at my laptop and not be able to make even simple decisions. I'd be fine one minute and then someone would say something innocuous and I'd have to lock myself in the loo to cry.
Grief and the hormonal changes after pregnancy loss mess with your head, not just your heart. Trying to perform at your usual level while processing loss is like running a marathon with a broken leg. You can try, but you're going to hurt yourself.
What to do instead
Tell your manager something, even if it's vague like "I'm dealing with a health issue that might affect my focus short-term." Delegate or postpone anything that's not urgent. Track your wins, however small, because your brain will only show you what you're not managing if you don’t. And be realistic about your recovery timeline, it won’t be quick.
3. You need support, even if you don't know what kind yet
I thought I could handle it on my own. Asking for help felt like admitting I wasn't coping, wasn't strong enough, wasn't professional enough.
Having no one at work who knew what I was going through meant I had nowhere to put any of it. When I finally share what was happening with some trusted colleagues the difference was staggering. Not because anyone fixed it but because I didn't have to carry it all alone anymore. They’d check in on me, make sure I knew they had my back.
Unsupported pregnancy loss or fertility challenges and treatment at work can lead to extended sick leave, burnout or leaving jobs you otherwise loved. I've seen it happen and coached people through it. Support doesn't mean crying on your manager's shoulder, it means practical adjustments and emotional space to not be fine all the time.
What to do instead
Identify one person at work you can be honest with. Manager, HR, a trusted colleague. Access support outside work too, such as counselling or coaching that might be available to you through your work benefits.
When I look back at that time, crossing the bridge to St Thomas's, hiding my grief, putting fake meetings in my diary, I wish I'd known these things. Not because it would have made the loss easier but because it would have made the work part less devastating.
You don't have to choose between processing your loss and protecting your career but you do need to give yourself permission to not be superhuman.
If you're working through fertility loss right now and your work is suffering, that's not a failure of your professionalism or capability. It's a normal human response to trauma and grief.
And if you need support navigating this, whether it's knowing what to say to your manager, managing your workload, or rebuilding your confidence after loss, that's exactly why I do this work.
