Individual Psychotherapy For
Perinatal Grief & Loss
You lost your baby and you had to keep going.
You had to drive home, or call someone, or figure out what to do next. You had to tell people, or decide not to. You had to recover from procedures, or labor & delivery or your milk coming in. You had to go back to work, or clear out the nursery, or sit through a conversation where someone said something so wrong you didn't even know how to respond to it.
At least it was early. At least you hadn't told many people yet. At least you already have a child. At least you know you can get pregnant. At least you didn’t get to know them.
People mean well. They say the wrong things anyway.
This grief often doesn't get the space that other grief gets. There's no bereavement leave for a miscarriage. There's no casserole. Most people don't know it happened, or if they do, they assume you're over it faster than you are. You're expected to move through it quietly and get back to trying.
You may have experienced:
● Not knowing how to talk about it, even when you want to
● Wondering whether you're allowed to be this sad, whether the loss was "big enough" to grieve this hard, especially when others aren’t grieving with you
● Feeling alone in it, even with a partner, even with people who love you
● Being blindsided by it in ordinary moments: a song, a due date that passed, someone else's announcement
● Trying again and realizing the fear has changed everything
● Not talking about it because you don't want to make people uncomfortable, or hear the wrong thing again
A loss is a loss at any stage, under any circumstances, whether this was your first pregnancy or your fifth, whether you have children already or not. Whether you terminated a pregnancy for a medical reason. Whether this is your first loss or the heartbreak of recurrent loss. You don't have to earn the right to grieve it.
What we do together
This kind of grief doesn't follow a timeline and it doesn't always look like crying. Sometimes it looks like numbness, or anger, or throwing yourself into the next treatment cycle before you've had a chance to process what just happened. Sometimes it looks like being fine until you're suddenly not.
We don't rush it, and we don't have a destination in mind other than: you get to feel this, fully, in a place where someone isn't going to expect you to be okay.
If you're trying again — or thinking about trying again — we'll make space for what that's bringing up too. The fear is different after a loss. The hope is different. The way you relate to your own body can be different. All of that is part of the work.
Some clients use EMDR to process the traumatic parts — specific moments that keep replaying, physical memories from the experience itself. Some need to talk through what happened, what it meant, what it cost, before anything else is useful. We figure out what's useful for you specifically.
What changes
The grief doesn't disappear. That's not the goal.
What my clients describe is the grief having room to exist without swallowing everything else. Being able to talk about the loss without it undoing them for the rest of the day. Not needing everyone in their life to understand it at the same level in order to move through it.
That last part is worth sitting with. The people around you may never fully understand what this meant. That doesn't have to be as lonely as it sounds. It can just be yours — something you carry with clarity instead of in secret.
Schedule a free 15-minute consultation. We'll talk, see if we're a fit, and go from there.
