Sadly, we often view the loss of a pregnancy as something minor, a signal that the fetus wasn’t viable or this wasn’t the right time or for those who are religious, this is God’s will.

But, with all the hormonal changes that occur with pregnancy among other complicating factors and the uniqueness of each person’s personal story, any loss of a pregnancy can be traumatic and generate trauma symptomology. The idea offered by outsiders who say: “Just get over it; move on; get pregnant again,” misses the impact of a lost pregnancy.

So, here’s the point: Trauma is real and so is its symptomology. And it is often retriggered by other events (pregnancy of a friend; seeing an infant; hearing a nursery rhyme or story). There are strategies to help deal with a pregnancy loss, and it is not something to hide or feel guilty about. The feelings are real and we’d all be wise to wise-up to the reality that the loss of a pregnancy is real, whenever it occurs in a pregnancy. And like all trauma, it will be a part of who one is and never goes away. That’s not all bad; we need to accept loss as something that is part of our personal history.

I am often asked on forms or by others: how many times have you been pregnant or how many children do you have? Depends how you count, doesn't it? Are live births the only ones that count? What about children that are yours but not by birth? For parents who have lost a child post-birth, the same issues arise when asked: how many children do you have. I recall ever so vividly one couple to whom I asked this question separately at a social event. He answered two; she answered three; he did not count their son who died at war but she did.

Bottom line: don’t minimize the trauma that a lost pregnancy can invoke.