Miscarriage Grief Doesn’t Expire. Stop Acting Like It Does.

The hospital floor was cold and hard. I was lying on it, bleeding.

Cramps tore through me like poison. I didn’t need anyone to tell me. I already knew.

I was losing my baby on November 3, 2020.

An hour earlier, the day had already broken me twice. First, the news: my wasband’s father had cancer, and I was the one who had to tell him. Then my phone rang. It was my dad, struggling with his housing, needing me too.

So I did what I always did. I held it together. I took myself to the hospital.

And then my body let go.

It began discharging what the hospital would later call “matter.” It was never matter to me. It was my child.

Getting pregnant had been hard. Staying pregnant had been hard. Nothing could have prepared me for this kind of grief.

It took me years to understand what my body was doing that day. It was protecting me. Bracing me for the dark six years to come.

Why does my body remember a miscarriage anniversary?

Grief doesn’t only live in the mind. It lives in the body. Many people notice their body reacting as the anniversary of a loss approaches, sometimes before they consciously register the date. Grief professionals call this an anniversary reaction. Heaviness. Exhaustion. Tears that show up out of nowhere. A pull to stay under the covers.

Six years is not “over.” There is no expiry date on loving someone you never got to meet. The calendar moves forward. The body keeps the date.

What I did with the day

I went to the spa. I read. I slept.

That’s it. No big ritual. No productivity. No explaining myself.

Being at a thermal spa gave my nervous system a message that I am safe. It grounded me. Reading allowed me to slow down and be in the moment. Sleep happened because my body asked for it. My grief often shows up as exhaustion.

I didn’t open my email. I didn’t respond to business texts. I didn’t run any errands. I didn’t do any work.

Taking space doesn’t have to look dramatic to count. Rest is a way of grieving. Sometimes it’s the most honest one.

Is it okay to take time off for a miscarriage anniversary?

Yes.

Let me say it again for the person reading this with a date circled on next month’s calendar. Yes.

Somewhere along the way we learned that grief has a deadline. That pregnancy loss is something you’re supposed to quietly move past. That asking for a day, years later, is too much.

It isn’t.

In my Navigating GRIEF framework, the G stands for Grounding in the Present. Grounding isn’t pretending the day is ordinary. It’s letting yourself be exactly where you are, in the body that remembers, and giving it what it needs. Some years that’s a full day. Some years it’s an hour. Both count.

If your miscarriage anniversary is coming up

If your body remembers, you’re allowed to listen to it.

You don’t have to justify the day. You don’t need a reason anyone else would accept. Your loss was real. Your grief is real. Whether it happened six months ago or sixteen years ago.

So take the day. Or the morning. Or the bath, the nap, the walk, the book. Take whatever space your body is asking for.

You’re not falling apart. You’re remembering.

If someone you love has a date like this coming up, send this to them. It might be the permission they didn’t know they needed.

What does your body do when your date comes around? Tell me in the comments.

XX Blair

P.S. I am booking keynotes and workshops for 2027. Interested in having me speak at your event or to your organization? Let’s talk: blair@blairkaplan.ca.

Where’s Blair?

* January 3-9, 2027, Marrakech, Morocco

Join me and Happy Grieving for the Morocco Grief Retreat to kick off 2027. Grief can make the world feel small. Morocco does the opposite: it fills the senses without demanding anything from you. The souks, the spices, the calls to prayer, life continuing everywhere, in colour.

And then there’s the stillness to balance it: a traditional hammam to let your body release what it’s been holding, pottery in the medina, a full day in the Agafay Desert where the horizon gives your thoughts somewhere to go. Daily grief workshops thread it together, always optional, always held by facilitators who have walked the path of loss themselves. Learn more and book your spot.

* January 23-24, 2027, The Westin Lake Las Vegas Resort & Spa

Join me at Camp Manifest this January. Rekindle the carefree joy of camp days—bonfires, group games, laughter under the stars—reimagined for adults with an intuitive, soul-nourishing twist. Step away from the noise of everyday life and step into a sacred space designed just for you. At Camp Manifest, you’ll be guided through a powerful journey of self-discovery, healing, and intention-setting alongside an intimate group of like-minded women. Over the days, you’ll reconnect with yourself, deepen your intuition, and leave with renewed energy to manifest the life you truly desire.

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