Talking openly about miscarriage: Councillor Rhiannon Spear on the decision to go public about her loss

“My wee pregnancy has failed and I will have a miscarriage.”

Rhiannon Spear took the decision to announce on Twitter two weeks ago that she had lost her unborn child.

The SNP councillor for Glasgow Pollok did it “to smash the stigma around miscarriage” that sees so many couples suffer in silence – when the chances are a significant number of their friends and family have had a similar experience.

Spear was informed that she had lost her child right in the middle of Baby Loss Awareness Week, which aims to remind people that the death of a baby is not a rare event and can happen to anyone.

Around one in eight women who find out that they are pregnant will subsequently be told that their baby has died in the womb, according to NHS estimates, but the proportion of miscarriages is thought to be as high as one in four when you include women who weren’t aware that they were pregnant.

Statistics suggest it is one of the most common bereavements a couple will have to endure, and yet it is barely discussed.

Couples are commonly advised to keep quiet about their pregnancy until the 12-week scan to avoid “awkward conversations”.

Spear and her partner, Rhys Crilley, decided to tell family and friends that they were expecting when their pregnancy test came back positive, in the full knowledge that there was a statistically significant chance that they would have to come back a few weeks later with some bad news.

But then Spear revealed her miscarriage on Twitter on 12 October – and three days later, Prince Harry and his wife, Meghan, officially announced that they were expecting their first child.

The London Evening Standard said: “It is understood that Meghan, 37, is past the 12-week mark when it is regarded as safe to announce a pregnancy.”

Safe to stop worrying in silence about whether you will have a healthy baby?

Safe to stop lying to your colleagues about why you’re being sick all the time?

Safe to stop pretending your soda water is a G&T in case your uncharacteristic Friday night abstinence prompts some awkward questions?

The throwaway remark reflects the widespread consensus that couples should keep quiet about their pregnancy before 12 weeks, suggesting that silence and subterfuge is the ‘safe’ way to proceed, instead of a candid acceptance that pregnancy is a precarious condition that could have various outcomes.

“It’s important to know that not everyone gives birth to a beautiful, pristine, healthy baby,” Spear told Holyrood.

“When I became pregnant, the first leaflet I got was about Down’s syndrome, but there still aren’t enough conversations about the other side of pregnancy from this blue and pink dream.

“Revealing my miscarriage has 100 per cent opened up a new door to this conversation, where people have made confessions and we feel like we know more about our friends.

“They have never spoken about it before, ever, and one woman told me it took her a year to get over it.”

Spear believes most women keep quiet to avoid an awkward conversation or head off uncomfortable expressions of sympathy.

“I think it is emotionally harder to not have that conversation, to take time off work and make pretend excuses about why you’re not feeling well,” she says.

“You’re still feeling emotional, but you’re lying to people about why you’re feeling emotional.

“You jump through hoops to keep it a secret, but then if you do miscarry, you have to jump through more hoops to hide the emotions that come with that, which leads to more lies.”

It is also a testament to Scotland’s ongoing unhealthy relationship with alcohol that a decision to have a soft drink can have relatives speculating wildly about an impending arrival, forcing some expectant mothers to go to great lengths to hide their uncharacteristic abstinence.

“I didn’t have people asking me why I wasn’t drinking because I could tell them that I was pregnant,” says Spear.

“Just have the conversation, rather than play games with the fact that you’re not drinking alcohol.

“I actually stopped drinking a month before because we were trying for a baby, and I was open about the fact that we were trying and that I didn’t want to drink because I was trying to stay healthy.

“I do wonder why we don’t want to have that conversation.

“It hurts, it’s strange, it’s awkward, but it’s only strange and awkward because it’s not normalised. It’s going to happen to so many women.

“I thought it was one in five but a doctor recently told me that it’s one in four, so why is it awkward?

“The hurt and pain isn’t going to go away but surely talking about it is healthy?

“For me, all of this is rooted in gender discrimination and women being told to just be quiet and get on with it and have a stiff upper lip. Society makes it very difficult for women to get help.”

The 27-year-old said her family is “incredibly open” about the unfortunate links between pregnancy and death that most baby books fail to properly address.

“My mum had two children who died, my big sister who died at childbirth and my little brother who was born with genetic problems and a hole in his heart who passed away at three months old,” says Spear.

“It was hugely traumatic for my mum and dad, but death associated with bringing life into the world has been an open conversation for my family.

“I was terrified of telling my mum because there is so much weight on her shoulders when it comes to childbirth.

“I’m dealing with it in a very different way than she would have dealt with it – or even have been allowed to deal with it – when she was younger.

“Whatever people choose to do, it is their choice, but as a society, we have to make that conversation easier because the conversation isn’t easy right now.

“Maybe me talking about it will make it easier for someone who doesn’t think they can talk about it, but for me, as an open person, society is not there yet.

“People wince when you tell them you’re six weeks pregnant, but why not talk about it?

“Bringing babies into the world is an incredibly long, hard process. Let’s make it easier.

“The reason it’s not easy is that it is rooted in decades of gender discrimination. Let’s get rid of that.”

Spear said she had no idea just how many friends, family and colleagues had suffered a miscarriage until she took the decision to open up about it.

“My direct messages are open on Twitter, so I’ve had a lot of direct messages from people saying that they’ve been through it and letting me know that I will be OK,” she says.

“MSPs have contacted me, and strong high-profile women that I don’t really know have contacted me to say that they have gone through it and not told anyone.”

One high profile woman that did publicly reach out to Spear was Nicola Sturgeon, who opened up exclusively to Holyrood’s editor, Mandy Rhodes, in 2016 about her own miscarriage five years previously.

“I know how you’ll be feeling just now so take care,” the First Minister told Spear on Twitter.

Sturgeon kept quiet about her miscarriage for years as she regarded it as a private matter, but she was compelled to speak out after years of unseemly press speculation about why she had never had children.

“By allowing my own experience to be reported I hope, perhaps ironically, that I might contribute in a small way to a future climate in which these matters are respected as entirely personal, rather than pored over and speculated about as they often are now,” she said.

Spear respects her party leader’s position that no woman should be compelled to reveal personal pain to dispel rumours about her life choices.

“If you’re someone like Nicola Sturgeon, who felt like they didn’t need to talk about it, that it was a private grief between her, her partner and close family, that is totally normal,” she said.

“But you can’t win. You’re either cold and dead inside, or you’re a career woman, and that is where we are at with gender politics.

“My everyday experience is that we are not as far down the road with equality as we think we are, but something like this shines a light on it.

“Why can’t I talk about the fact that I am six weeks pregnant, with all of the things that is associated with that?

“I’ve had people direct message me saying that I shouldn’t be on Twitter when I’m having a miscarriage, saying that it’s a career move, saying that I’m not coping with it well if I’m on Twitter.

“We were at home crying, cuddling, chatting some more, it was a sad day, and it wasn’t like I thought it would be a great thing to put on Twitter, but it made it easier.

“Once I had had a bath, some beer and some sushi, I tweeted that I would be back ‘smashing the patriarchy’ soon with a laughing emoji, and someone questioned whether that was appropriate.

“Even the conversation around this is so divorced from reality.”

For the avoidance of doubt, Spear was approached by Holyrood to share her experience and continue the conversation she started on Twitter about the code of silence surrounding miscarriage, and did not actively seek publicity or career promotion.

But some may question why she chose to announce her miscarriage on Twitter, a notoriously reactionary forum crawling with political opponents and trolls.

“I use Twitter to facilitate conversations that I want to have and I don’t get distracted by trolls,” says Spear.

“Other people don’t have that relationship with Twitter and those platforms, but I’m so used to it.

“I said on Twitter that if anyone knows someone who knows about this pregnancy, please tell them, as personally, I thought it would make the conversation easier if I did it that way.

“It would also emphasise that this is a normal thing to happen and that it has happened – I was pregnant and now I am not pregnant.

“For me, putting it on Twitter took away the awkwardness and normalised it, but there was a lot of judgment came back as well.”

Crilley, 29, who is originally from Wakefield in West Yorkshire, said he was completely on board with the decision to tell friends as soon as they found out about the pregnancy, and the subsequent decision to announce the miscarriage on Twitter.

“It seemed like the logical thing to do because it meant that we didn’t have to have the same conversation with everyone, over and over again,” says Crilley.

“Rhiannon could put it on Twitter, and people we work with can see it.

“People should feel like they can talk about it if they want to. We told people that Rhiannon was pregnant as soon as she took the first test.

“We talked about who we should tell, maybe just our parents.

“But then we thought, why not tell all of our friends too?

“Rhiannon said the only reason we wouldn’t tell people is because of the stigma around miscarriage, but I pointed out that there would also be some emotional conversations if something does go wrong.

“When it did happen, it definitely did make me think, ‘Oh, now I’m going to have to have difficult conversations’.

“You don’t want to ruin someone’s day by saying, ‘D’you know that really happy thing that was going to happen, well, it’s not happening anymore’.

“My parents were super excited about having their first grandchild, but everyone has been brilliant.

“When I was a kid my teacher had a miscarriage, but it was all very hush hush and my mum had to tell me very quietly why she wasn’t at school.

“But the conversations haven’t turned out to be difficult.

“We’ve told people that we aren’t having a baby anymore and nobody has been distant or anything, they’ve all understood and said that they are there for us, and invited us out for coffee or drinks and a chat.

“Talking to people has helped and made us realise that we have got support.

“People deal with these things in different ways so there’s no right or wrong way to go about it, but for us, the amount of support we’ve had from friends, colleagues, family members, has really helped us to come to terms with it, grieve, and process it.

“We know we’re not suffering alone as other people have gone through it, and told us that they’re there for us if we need someone to talk to.”

Spear says she also felt a short spell of apprehension about breaking the bad news to people after being so open about the pregnancy, but said the subsequent conversations “really solidified our reasons for telling people”.

While society still has a long way to go to improve the conversation about miscarriage, the couple say people should look to the NHS for guidance on how to have a compassionate conversation about a tragic but all too common experience.

“Any interaction we have had with the NHS has been unbelievable – phenomenal – I’ve never met someone so prepared and kind than our midwife,” says Spear.

“I genuinely think the specialist midwives who have to tell heartbroken women that their baby has no heartbeat are angels.”

The Miscarriage Association: ‘Whatever’s best for you’

Rhiannon argues passionately and persuasively about the need for women and their partners to be open about both pregnancy and miscarriage.

Not to do so, she feels, maintains a culture of silence and secrecy, even of shame, making it harder to cope if things go wrong.

For Rhiannon and Rhys, the decision to share the news of their pregnancy and, subsequently of their miscarriage was instinctive. 

It was right for them and it helped them through the sadness of their loss and that is true for many people. 

That’s not the case for everyone, however, for a number of reasons.

You may not want family or friends to know for fear of their disapproval (you’re too old, too young, already have too many children…).

You might not want anyone in the workplace to know, for reasons of personal privacy or fear that it might damage your career prospects. 

You may feel anxious that things might go wrong, perhaps especially if they have in the past, and not want to ‘tempt fate’. 

Or you may not be sure that you want this pregnancy at all.  Perhaps you simply want to hug this news to yourself and your partner. 

The reasons for not telling others that you have miscarried may be similar.

You may not want people to know you had been trying for a baby or might try again.

Perhaps you miscarried before and found others’ comments hurtful. 

Maybe you find it impossible to tell and ‘un-tell’ people at the same time.

You might, sadly, feel a sense of shame, embarrassment or guilt, even if you did not welcome this pregnancy. 

Or you may simply feel this is something personal and private.

The main downside to not telling others that you have miscarried can be lack of support when you need it
most and feeling isolated as a result.

Talking to others who understand can bring real comfort, so it’s important to know about private online spaces where you can find support and understanding completely anonymously. But it has to be a personal choice.

Our responsibility is to enable those conversations, to ensure that anyone who wants to talk about pregnancy or loss feels able to do so.

That requires more awareness, knowledge and a culture of understanding around pregnancy and loss.  That has to be good news for everyone.

Ruth Bender Atik, national director, The Miscarriage Association

Useful links:

www.miscarriageassociation.org.uk/forum
www.miscarriageassociation.org.uk/your-feelings/simply-say