Motherhood is often seen as a joyful and life-affirming journey, but for some of us, it is marked by immense pain and heartache. After experiencing the loss of my daughter, I was faced with a grief that no one could truly understand unless they had walked that same painful path. The first few months following her passing were unbearably difficult, but what made it even harder was the number of women I met who shared their own stories of loss. They would say, “I just moved on,” and I found myself asking them, “What happened next? How did you get to a place of healing?” But for me, moving on wasn’t an option. The loss of a child leaves such a massive void in one’s life, a hole that can never be filled. I knew deep down that I couldn’t be fully functional again until I found some kind of closure or healing, which I hoped would come with time and, perhaps, divine intervention.
Why?
As a Christian woman, I repeatedly asked God for answers. I believed that only He could help me make sense of the pain I was feeling, but even then, the question of “Why?” lingered. Why did this happen to me? Why did I have to go through this? It was a question I struggled with for months, and I realized that so many people, both women and men, have similar questions when they face miscarriage or stillbirth. The pain and grief of losing a child are not only physical but emotional, psychological, and spiritual.
The Lingering Pain of Loss
The loss of a child is something that stays with you forever. It is not something that you simply “get over.” For me, the grief has never fully gone away. I realized that my own mother had lost three babies before me, and it helped me understand some of the unexplained moments of sadness I had seen in her over the years. She never spoke much about those losses, but I now see the long-term effect it had on her. I also have a cousin who, even more than a decade after losing her child, still mentions how old her baby would be today. That kind of grief never fades; it changes, but it doesn’t go away. It is a part of who we are, forever.
In our society, the burden of child loss often falls on the mother. The responsibility to bear children is deeply ingrained in our culture, and when a woman experiences a miscarriage, the emotions of shame, guilt, and failure can be overwhelming. I have seen how recurrent miscarriages can lead to stigmatization, with some people even seeing it as a curse or punishment from God. I have heard hurtful myths about women being blamed for their miscarriages, with accusations that it was the result of promiscuity or some kind of moral failing. Even worse, in some tragic cases, a woman’s marriage dissolves after a loss, as her partner moves on in search of a woman who can bear children. The emotional toll of miscarriage is compounded by these societal judgments, which often make women feel isolated and ashamed.
The Increasing Frequency of Infant Loss
At 20, around 15 percent of pregnancies end in miscarriage. By the time a woman reaches 35, the risk rises to 22 percent, and at 40, it can reach as high as 38 percent.
Miscarriage and stillbirth have become more common in recent years, and yet, they remain deeply uncomfortable topics to discuss. I have spoken to many expectant mothers who live with the fear that they might experience a miscarriage, and often wondered why we don’t talk about these issues more openly. One reason for the rising rates of miscarriage is the increasing age at which women are having children. More women are waiting until they are older to have children, and while this may be a personal choice, it does come with risks. Pregnancies after the age of 35 carry higher risks of complications such as miscarriage, preterm birth, and cesarean sections. The body simply doesn’t work the same way it did when we were younger.
According to studies, the risk of miscarriage increases with age. At 20, around 15 percent of pregnancies end in miscarriage. By the time a woman reaches 35, the risk rises to 22 percent, and at 40, it can reach as high as 38 percent. At 45, the risk jumps to a staggering 70 percent. These are statistics every should be informed about so they make reproductive decisions based on accurate knowledge.
The Need for Systemic Change
One of the most glaring issues I have encountered is the lack of adequate support for women and families who experience miscarriage or stillbirth. In Uganda, the current maternity leave laws are insufficient. The employee act of 2006 entitles female employees to 60 days of paid maternity leave, but this includes both childbirth and miscarriage, which, in my opinion, are two very different experiences. After a miscarriage, a woman needs time to heal; both physically and emotionally. The current law does not reflect the gravity of the emotional toll that comes with losing a child. There is a clear need for policies that better support grieving parents, both mothers and fathers. Fathers, too, need more time to grieve and be with their families. Unfortunately, the cultural stigma around miscarriage means that many women suffer in silence.
I found myself in this position, unsure of where to turn or who would understand my pain. But when I began talking about my experience, I realized that there were so many other women who felt the same way. Slowly, I began to meet others who had experienced similar losses, and we began to share our stories. This is when I decided to create Vessel Is Me, a platform that provides care and support for those who have experienced perinatal loss. Through this platform, I connect grieving families with a network of professional counselors, like Mrs. Gorreti Bamwanga, who is one of the few grief counselors in Uganda. It has been incredibly healing to offer a space where parents can grieve together and find comfort.
What Modern Mothers Can Do
For women over the age of 35, pregnancy is often more complicated. It is essential to be proactive in seeking medical care, attending regular doctor visits, and getting the necessary screenings. Pregnancy at this age requires extra vigilance, and if a miscarriage does occur, it is crucial to talk about it. The more we talk about miscarriage, the more we can break the stigma and create a supportive environment for women who are grieving. Every mother’s grief is unique, and how each of us reacts to our loss is part of our own personal healing journey. I have learned that healing from a miscarriage doesn’t mean “moving on.” It means learning to live with the loss while still moving forward with life.
The pain of miscarriage is a heavy burden to bear, but it can also be the catalyst for finding new strength, for helping others, and for creating something beautiful out of tragedy.
Denise Kekimuri Ngesa is a wife, a mother of three; one alive and two angels. She now devotes her time counseling and helping those going through the same predicament to help them get some closure or healing.
Her book So, What Next? is an inspiring tale of turning tragedy into purpose. The book is filled with raw emotion that touches the most sensitive nerves in one’s being. She skillfully tackles issues that affect women’s lives but have remained taboo; miscarriage and stillbirths.
