There are a few subjects I haven’t spoken to my therapist about, we’ve covered the domestic abuse I’ve faced in great length, we’ve covered my narcissist and occasionally abusive mother, having two disabled parents to look after and the constant role reversal that comes with it, and finally the time a friend went too far.

What we haven’t spoken about in almost nine months of therapy, is my miscarriage. The event that led me straight back to therapy, because I just can’t talk about it. Every session I tell myself I’ll be able to do it, it’s not like I haven’t balled my eyes out over unresolved issues, but I just cannot understand why I cannot talk about it.

The rebel inside me tells me to talk about the stigmatised taboo we women face with this issue, why it is still spoken about in hushed tones today just makes me want to shout and campaign for the rooftops, but I can’t. I don’t understand why, even as I write this my stomach knots, and my eyes well up.

The topic just makes me feel too much of everything, maybe that scar is just too raw for me, maybe I’m holding onto it for dear life because I’m just scared to let it go, or I won’t be able to talk about it until I’ve had another baby. I was a rainbow baby, I couldn’t just jump into having a baby a few months later, after my mother always used her miscarriage to devastate me, and always being compared to that baby.

I understand my mother was crazy, she used these things to guilt me into obeying her, and I’m definitely not her. Even so, the memory of my mother’s miscarriage haunted me from a very young age, it’s even holding me back now. Every day it gets easier for me, I don’t think anything could make me forget that trauma, but maybe I can stop staying so silent.

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