Miscarriage, The Silent Grief
2025
After experiencing a miscarriage at 11.5 weeks in 2022, Rachael Munro-Fawcett began her deeply personal project Miscarriage, The Silent Grief to shine a light on the often-silent and isolating experience of pregnancy loss. Through collecting photographs and stories from women with lived experience of miscarriage, Rachael aims to break the stigma and silence surrounding the subject, offering both services and society a better understanding of how women, and their partners, can be supported during and after miscarriage, with a focus on women's mental well-being.
The project features portraits of six women from Rachael’s family, friends, and peer groups, including herself, and is inspired by the concept of a women’s circle - based around the idea of six women uniting in a safe, supportive space to share experiences, find connection, and embrace healing together.
For anyone needing support after miscarriage contact The Miscarriage Association.
“Miscarriage is a loss—of a baby, a life you’d imagined—and women deserve the space to feel that grief without judgement. The expectation and pressure that's put on women after having a loss, that you’re just supposed to ‘get up and carry on with life’, is huge and extremely overwhelming.
Twenty five years ago I experienced two miscarriages that left a lasting impact on my life. The first at 13 weeks, was a planned and much-wanted pregnancy. I had three children already, but this was my first planned pregnancy, and so when it went wrong, it was catastrophic. I learnt that the pregnancy wasn’t viable at the first scan and so had to return to the hospital for a termination of pregnancy. A few months later I miscarried again at 6 weeks, but this time I denied it happening, both to myself and other people because I felt like a failure. I felt like I hadn’t fulfilled my children, and so I was left feeling inadequate and very lonely.
I poured myself into my three kids and shut myself away, trying to create a home environment where they felt safe and loved. I’d make three-course meals, things I’d never done before, just to keep busy and to feel like I was doing something right. I didn’t feel that there was much of a support network, I had family and friends who would visit me, but nowhere for me to turn to for support. I now believe, looking back that I was experiencing depression after my miscarriages. When I became pregnant with my youngest child Ewan, the aftermath of the miscarriages resurfaced. At eight weeks postpartum, I developed severe postnatal depression and psychosis. I was admitted to one of the few mother-and-baby units in the country, where I stayed for three weeks.
My advice to women going through miscarriage would be, don’t carry it alone. If you can, talk to people who support you and protect yourself from those who don’t. If someone says something that hurts, it’s okay to tell them you’re struggling and don’t want to hear it. Take time for yourself—go for a walk, listen to music, find little things that lift you. And if you’re the kind of person who needs quiet, that’s okay too. Just don’t feel like you have to hold it all inside.
Miscarriage can feel profoundly isolating. At the time, I shut myself off, but hearing others share their stories of loss reminded me I wasn’t alone. Still, it’s rarely talked about—a loss many women experience but one society often stigmatizes or overlooks. Society needs more education on the emotional impact of miscarriage and less pressure on women to simply ‘move past it.’ Losing a pregnancy isn’t just a setback; it’s the loss of a life, a little soul that was meant to be. It’s vital to create nurturing spaces where women can grieve, heal, and move forward without shame". - Claire. Artist. TFMR (Termination for Medical Reasons) at 13 weeks and complete miscarriage at 6 weeks.
“Miscarriage is not a linear journey and there are a lot of ups and downs on the way. After my miscarriage my mental health was the worst it’s ever been in my life and I really struggled with this. I started to feel things I’d never felt before like a complete lack of control of my mind and body and I felt like there just wasn’t enough help or information out there for me to really understand why I was feeling the way I was. So I went through therapy and got some help because I just couldn’t get out of the cycle of feeling very low, worthless, hormonal and really paranoid of my symptoms.
I think miscarriage is such an individual experience, especially for a woman because you feel it both physically and emotionally. But even though it was such a personal thing to go through, I found a lot of strength and solace in speaking to my friends who had either been though the same experience or knew someone who had. Coming together like this as women, gave me what I needed to keep moving forward and to know that there was light at the end of the tunnel.
The narrative around miscarriage is evolving and I do see the different conversations that are happening between different generations. But the conversation needs to go even further so it becomes the norm to talk about something like this, because so many people experience it. Women need to feel supported in the language surrounding miscarriage so it’s not negative and women don’t end up feeling isolated and like their miscarriage was their fault. In such difficult times, what women need is to feel lifted by others, mentally and physically.”- Anna, self-employed. Missed miscarriage at 6 weeks.
"I’ll never get the date May 12th out my head, the date I had to give birth. I was 20 weeks pregnant when the doctors told me that the baby wouldn’t survive outside of me. In the days leading up to giving birth I just wanted it all over and done with and to try again, but afterwards I felt an enormous guilt that I hadn’t acknowledged the baby on the day, I just wanted it hidden away from me. I called the hospital the next day to find out the sex of the baby, this is when I really broke down.
I didn’t tell many people about the miscarriage and looking back I wish I’d told more friends but with it being a taboo subject, people don’t really want you to talk about it, they don’t want to talk about depressing things. But we need to talk about it, not to tell horror stories to pregnant women as this is something I’m very conscious not to do, but because it's a reality which you never really hear of. When I was giving birth I had no idea I had to go through what I did, so the more the different stages of miscarriage are spoken about, it should be helpful for other women.
I can remember at the time, my sister bought me a baby loss bear and as nice as that sentiment was, I hated that bear. I didn’t want to look at it, it made me so angry so I ended up taking it to a charity shop to get it out the house. People think they’re being helpful by saying things to you like, “at least you know you can get pregnant”, but this isn’t helpful. It's as if people are dismissing the first baby. The way that people can support women post miscarriage is to keep asking the person what they want to talk about or what they want to do and just be there for that person. People can end up wanting to be alone in their grief and thoughts but once you open up, you start to understand how many other people have been through miscarriage or know someone who has. So talk more, it's good to talk because it normalises it and miscarriage should be normalised because it happens every single day.
I’m not religious but everytime I go into a church I light a candle for that baby. There are so many different ways of miscarriages, a miscarriage further down the line at 20 weeks doesn’t make it any different to a month down the line as either way it’s still your baby. And it’s not just your baby, it's your hope too.” - Leah, employed. Miscarriage at 20 weeks.
"You don’t ever get over it. Most of the time I don’t really think about it, but as a woman you think you’re going to have children, well not everyone, but I remember when I was younger at art college, me and my friend would write notes to each other and put them in this wooden bird. I wrote a note to say that I would have two children when I was older, a boy and a girl and I was going to name them Nancy and Philip.
My miscarriage happened when I was 44. I was told when I went in for my 12-week scan. The consultant had no bedside manner and used a lot of medical jargon and horrible terminology, things I didn’t understand at the time. I can remember completely breaking down and for days feeling really stunned and withdrawn and walking around feeling that everyone else was getting on with their lives with no idea what had just happened to me. Looking back there should have been a lot more support after I came out of hospital. Nobody signposted me to a service or told me who I could speak to, the only support I received was from my GP who phoned me out of kindness for my wellbeing.
I think there is a real lack of support for women who have had a miscarriage and discussion of it. When I told my friend I was doing this project she told me she’d had a miscarriage in between having her children and other friends in their late 50’s said this had also happened to them. Nobody talked about it back then, I didn’t even think talking was a possibility. I thought it was something that happened rarely and it never happening to other women. I think the best way that women can be supported post miscarriage is to be able to talk about it and to talk to other women who have been through the same thing.
As an artist I often make ceramics that are hollow, like empty vessels that should have had something inside them. The word vessel is often used as a term to describe women. There’s a famous song by Eric Clapton where he sings about motherless children. But I always think about childless mothers and all the childless mothers in this world." - Belinda. Artist. Two missed miscarriages.
“Miscarriage can be a really dark time and can affect people’s mental health in so many different ways. Even if somebody seems ok on the outside, chances are they’re probably not. The thing that really sticks in my mind, is that people would say to me “but you’ve already got one child” as if losing two was somehow easier. I think people think it’s a lesser type of grief because it’s like an invisible loss and nobody else can see it. And this can lead to a lot of anxiety and feeling like you shouldn’t be as upset as what you actually are, because society deems it as a lesser loss.
Miscarriage needs to be spoken about so much more openly instead of this secret grief that women feel they have to carry with them and keep to themselves. It shouldn’t be kept secret because you should be able to feel your grief and process it in any way you need to. I feel like if there was more support for women going through miscarriage in the same way there is for people who lose living loved ones, then women may feel less isolated. It can be such a lonely time feeling like you’re the only one experiencing this huge loss, when actually miscarriage is so common and so many women are navigating this journey. I think if it was more acceptable to talk about miscarriage then women may feel empowered to do so which might help to process these raw emotions.
My advice for anyone trying to support someone after miscarriage is just to listen and try and not say words to help fix things, because its not something that can be fixed. Just be there for that person and listen to their feelings”. - Riva. Doctor. Two missed miscarriages at 9 and 12 weeks.
“This project is deeply personal to me. It’s my way of breaking the silence and stigma around miscarriage, opening up conversations that I hope will help women feel less alone. By sharing our stories, I hope to show others that grief and healing don’t have to be faced in isolation.
In 2022, I lost my baby at 11.5 weeks, just days before my 12-week scan. I miscarried at home, completely unprepared for what was happening and unsure where to turn for support. There were no resources in my maternity pack to help me understand what might be happening, and the 111 operator couldn’t provide the guidance I needed. The maternity assessment unit told me they couldn’t see me because I wasn’t past 14 weeks, so I was directed to A&E and eventually onto an antenatal ward. The whole experience was scary and overwhelming. I sat in a waiting room surrounded by women excitedly preparing for their scans, while I was facing the pain of my own loss. In the end, I went and sat in a corridor so I didn’t have to see those women and their scan photos. When I left the hospital, I was given no aftercare advice, no compassion in response to my loss, and no direction for where to seek mental health support.
What I learned is that miscarriage isn’t just a physical loss - it’s a deeply emotional and mental one that you carry with you for months, even years, and it isolates you, making you feel as though you are carrying an invisible grief that others can’t see or understand. Even when surrounded by people who love and care for you, it’s easy to feel disconnected. Some people didn’t know what to say to me, which made me feel shame I didn’t deserve. But those who simply said, “I’m so sorry for your loss,” offered immense comfort.
Over time, I found solidarity in talking to other women who had been through the same experience, including my mother and friends. It made me realise how common miscarriage is and how rarely we discuss it. I also turned to nature, finding peace in its lessons: not everything thrives, and not everything is within our control. Miscarriage is not a failure, and it’s not your fault.
My hope for this project is that it raises awareness and supports change in how women are treated and cared for during such a painful time. Through connection and the sharing of stories, I found refuge, and I want other women to know they don't have to navigate their grief alone. Society must recognise the profound impact miscarriage can have on mental health and well-being. We need to take this issue seriously so that women and their grief are no longer left feeling invisible or unheard.”- Self portrait. Rachael. Photographer. Complete miscarriage at 11.5 weeks.