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Oversharing? No removing the taboo!

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I’ve never been one for oversharing. Not online. Not with friends. Not even with my family. It’s the very Britishness of me. Something that’s always been a part of me, probably from an early age. IT could be the consequence of being the youngest of five, I just got used to not having the chance to tell my story.

Oversharing is something that goes on a lot these days. Whether that’s through your social media feed, in your office canteen or down the pub, it surrounds us. And I for one am not a fan. Many a time I’ve wanted to leave the room or

SelfishMother.com
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looked at my social media feed and thought ‘you’re just looking for attention’. But maybe that’s me being reserved or harsh and what I think is oversharing is people being honest about their lives?

Earlier this week I posted something on my Instagram account that could have been classed as oversharing but I felt like I couldn’t keep it in anymore. I was being honest. I was being open about something real that I’m going through. I wasn’t liking cat videos, I wasn’t drinking champagne in a posh bar, I was showing my real life and it felt

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raw, vulnerable and unfamiliar.

I shared a life event and it wasn’t one to celebrate. I had a miscarriage.

In 2017 it shouldn’t be taboo to talk about such things but it certainly feels like it. I had a miscarriage. There I said it again. It wasn’t my first. And no I’m not ok. It hurts like hell but I’m still telling everyone I’m ok because that’s what people do. Or at least that’s what I do. So even though I put my heart on my sleeve through my Instagram post I still felt like people are out there thinking I’m looking for

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attention. Or that they’d rather not know as now they feel uncomfortable and don’t know what to say to me.

Miscarriage happens. One in four pregnancies ends in miscarriage. One in 100 women experience recurrent miscarriages. So why not talk about it? We shouldn’t suffer in silence. We shouldn’t pretend to be ok when we’re not. We need to share. Women need to know they’re not alone. And men, as this is just as devastating for the father-to-be.

It doesn’t matter that you don’t know what to say to me sometimes I don’t know what to

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say either. Be there. Make a cup of tea. Distract me with a story about your day. Or just hold me while I cry. Let me, and my husband as we’re in this together, grieve for our baby. The life we had already celebrated, the one we had dreamt about, the one we’d made plans for, the one we loved.

By sharing what I’m going through I hope I can encourage others to break the silence and tell their story. Whether that’s with family, friends, colleagues or strangers. Be honest. Be open. Because people care, those around you care and those sitting at

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home thinking they’re alone care.

Start oversharing. It’s the only way we can begin to remove the taboo surrounding this heart-breaking topic.

SelfishMother.com

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- 24 Jul 17

I’ve never been one for oversharing. Not online. Not with friends. Not even with my family. It’s the very Britishness of me. Something that’s always been a part of me, probably from an early age. IT could be the consequence of being the youngest of five, I just got used to not having the chance to tell my story.

Oversharing is something that goes on a lot these days. Whether that’s through your social media feed, in your office canteen or down the pub, it surrounds us. And I for one am not a fan. Many a time I’ve wanted to leave the room or looked at my social media feed and thought ‘you’re just looking for attention’. But maybe that’s me being reserved or harsh and what I think is oversharing is people being honest about their lives?

Earlier this week I posted something on my Instagram account that could have been classed as oversharing but I felt like I couldn’t keep it in anymore. I was being honest. I was being open about something real that I’m going through. I wasn’t liking cat videos, I wasn’t drinking champagne in a posh bar, I was showing my real life and it felt raw, vulnerable and unfamiliar.

I shared a life event and it wasn’t one to celebrate. I had a miscarriage.

In 2017 it shouldn’t be taboo to talk about such things but it certainly feels like it. I had a miscarriage. There I said it again. It wasn’t my first. And no I’m not ok. It hurts like hell but I’m still telling everyone I’m ok because that’s what people do. Or at least that’s what I do. So even though I put my heart on my sleeve through my Instagram post I still felt like people are out there thinking I’m looking for attention. Or that they’d rather not know as now they feel uncomfortable and don’t know what to say to me.

Miscarriage happens. One in four pregnancies ends in miscarriage. One in 100 women experience recurrent miscarriages. So why not talk about it? We shouldn’t suffer in silence. We shouldn’t pretend to be ok when we’re not. We need to share. Women need to know they’re not alone. And men, as this is just as devastating for the father-to-be.

It doesn’t matter that you don’t know what to say to me sometimes I don’t know what to say either. Be there. Make a cup of tea. Distract me with a story about your day. Or just hold me while I cry. Let me, and my husband as we’re in this together, grieve for our baby. The life we had already celebrated, the one we had dreamt about, the one we’d made plans for, the one we loved.

By sharing what I’m going through I hope I can encourage others to break the silence and tell their story. Whether that’s with family, friends, colleagues or strangers. Be honest. Be open. Because people care, those around you care and those sitting at home thinking they’re alone care.

Start oversharing. It’s the only way we can begin to remove the taboo surrounding this heart-breaking topic.

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Mother. Wife. Daughter. After a long struggle with fertility issues we had a beautiful daughter through IVF. She's now a lively toddler who brings laughter and tears most days!

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