Miscarriage, a mum's private pain.

Miscarriage is a pregnancy that ends spontaneously before 20 weeks or when the baby's weight is under 400gms and the baby dies. About one pregnancy in four miscarries and 99% of miscarriages occur in the first 13 weeks of pregnancy. Sometimes a doctor or nurse may refer to your miscarriage as a spontaneous abortion. Abortion is the common medical name for all pregnancies that end before 20 weeks. 82% of conceptions do not result in the birth of a live baby.

A bereaved mum whose child dies is acknowledged, her child has a funeral and he has a grave where the loved ones can go to visit indefinitely. Yes, that basically sums up my lot with my late Andrew.

But a "miscarried" mum, her child is not considered a child. Often, he is not mentioned. She mourns in private. Last night, I was having dinner with two mums. Out of the blue, (I didn't even initiate it) they shared the sad news about their miscarriages.

In Wellington, New Zealand, there is a Samaritan, Joan Curie. She herself experienced a miscarriage.

She works for Sands, an organisation which offers support for parents who suffer stillbirth or the death of their newborn baby.

Curle works at Wellington Hospital, making up baskets and mementos, such as a certificate of life.

"They don't get a birth or death certificate, so this is really important to their parents - their babies did exist. It's really important for them," she says.

The baskets are made so all parents can have a record of their child.

"They do exist, they are not brushed away, they are not just put in a kidney dish, which is what they used to be put in."

The first time I encountered this tragic situation was shortly after my Andrew had died. A very good friend miscarried. She requested that I be told of her sad news. We went to see her at home. She was semi lying at a bay window, with a blanket over her.

The great impact that touched my heart was , my oldest girl D had made a card for her daughter, and I over heard D tell M," I know how you feel." D was not even five years old. And M was a the cemetery when we buried our little boy.

They buried their little baby under a fruit tree in their garden.

This year, I was rejoicing with my niece when she shared she was pregnant. Then I held her hand when she suspected she could have trouble. There was false hope when the doctor said it was okay. But when I came home to New Zealand, I learned that she miscarried. The baby was due to be born any time now. It's going to be a difficult time for her.

This photo is a hibiscus in winter. When I think of all the babies that had been miscarried, they are similar to this flower. Something harsh has caused them not to develop to be the flower we expect them to be.

I made this cross stitch tapestry about twenty years ago. It says," God is love." Despite our sorrows and tribulation, God is there. I was still hurting from losing Andrew. I sat up every night to the wee hours of the morning, and made this one meter by half meter tapestry. People take months, and they could not believe I made it in a month. Today, it is my heir loom. It is unlikely I will make something like this.

This post is for all mums who are bereaved and "miscarried." To my new friends R and C, thanks for sharing your pain last night.