When Your Body Feels Like a Stranger: Navigating Pregnancy Loss

_{Cover photo of a sculpture by Jane Mortimer captured by K. Mitch Hodge}

“How do I trust this body when I feel like it betrayed me?” 

I’ve asked myself this question more times than I can count. After three miscarriages over my parenting journey, I found myself staring at my reflection, wondering how to rebuild a relationship with a body that felt like a stranger.

In honor of Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Month in October, I want to offer the raw, honest truth about what it was like to navigate pregnancy loss while building my 20+ year career in the pharmaceutical industry and raising my three daughters, and how I learned to find my way back to trusting my body’s wisdom.

If you’re reading this while grieving a loss, please know that your feelings are valid, your grief has no timeline, and you are not alone.

The Double Life of Grief

I experienced a miscarriage before I had my first child, and there is a 10-year gap between my first and second children. During that time I navigated two pregnancy losses both within the same year. They were very similar circumstances; I went in for routine first trimester checkups between 12 to 14 weeks and just like that – no heartbeat.

The devastating feeling of receiving that news and knowing that I had to then walk into my office and try to focus on the next regulatory review when my mind was processing the emotions. And then there’s the scheduling of the D&C (dilation and curettage) procedure—a minor surgery to remove pregnancy tissue from the uterus—but for some families it may be stillbirth or other profound losses that require different medical interventions.

This is the reality many families face. Grief doesn’t pause for our jobs, meetings, deadlines, or professional responsibilities. We’re expected to compartmentalize our most profound experiences into neat little boxes that don’t interfere with productivity.

In the meantime, there’s no “right” way to navigate loss, especially as a working individual. Some days you’ll need to step away. Other days, work might be the only thing that feels normal. Both responses are completely valid.

When Your Body Feels Like the Enemy

After the second miscarriage, I remember feeling betrayed by my own body. How could something that had successfully grown and birthed a healthy child (with my first) suddenly feel so unreliable? Every twinge, every change felt like potential evidence of failure.

I stopped paying attention to my body’s signals because they felt untrustworthy. I managed my body instead of partnering with it, treating it like something that needed to be controlled rather than listened to.

What I learned through my own healing journey is that rebuilding trust with your body after pregnancy loss isn’t about forcing forgiveness or rushing back to normal. It’s about slowly, gently learning to listen again.

When I was finally pregnant with my second child, I went in search of something I knew I needed, something different, especially since my first birth was traumatic. That’s when I discovered yoga.

The Wisdom in the Waiting

Your body’s intelligence doesn’t disappear because of loss. In fact, grief and healing are evidence of your body’s profound wisdom—its ability to process, to protect, to eventually rebuild. The same body that experienced loss is the same body with the capacity for healing.

This doesn’t mean minimizing your grief or pretending loss is part of some grand plan. It means acknowledging that your body is doing exactly what it needs to do to help you survive this experience, even when it doesn’t feel that way.

For me, my yoga practice became part of this rebuilding process. Not the vigorous flows I might have imagined, but gentle movements that helped me remember my body as a source of strength rather than disappointment. Yoga became the calm after the storm of miscarriages, a way to slowly rebuild the connection I thought I’d lost forever.

Reminders for Dealing with Loss

Through my own experience, I’ve learned some important truths about navigating this profound grief:

• Be selective about who you tell. You don’t owe anyone your story, but having 1-2 trusted family members, friends or colleagues who know what you’re going through can provide crucial support when you need flexibility.
• Plan for physical recovery. If you’ve had a D&C or other medical procedure, you’ll likely need time off. Don’t minimize this—it’s surgery, and your body needs time to heal.
• Prepare for trigger moments. Baby showers, pregnancy announcements, and casual conversations about family planning can feel overwhelming. It’s okay to decline invitations or step away from conversations that feel too difficult.
• Listen to your body’s timeline. Medical clearance to return to exercise doesn’t mean you have to jump back into intense workouts. Start slowly and pay attention to what feels supportive versus depleting.
• Consider gentle movement. Walking, restorative yoga, or stretching can help with both physical and emotional processing. Movement can be medicine, but only when it feels nurturing rather than punishing.
• Prioritize rest. Grief is exhausting, and your body is working hard to heal both physically and emotionally. Therefore rest is necessary.

The Path Forward

Reflecting on my journey, and those of friends, family members and clients, I know that healing from pregnancy loss isn’t a linear path, and it’s certainly not quick. There will be days when you feel like you’re making progress, and days when the grief feels as fresh as it did in the beginning. Both are part of the process.

What I’ve learned—both personally and professionally—is that healing comes not from getting over the loss, but from learning to carry it differently. Your body, your heart, and your capacity for joy are all bigger than this one experience, even when it doesn’t feel that way.

If you’re currently navigating loss, please be patient with yourself. Your body is doing important work, even when it doesn’t feel like it. Trust doesn’t have to be rebuilt overnight, and healing doesn’t follow anyone else’s timeline but your own.

If you or someone you know is struggling with pregnancy or infant loss, please reach out for support. You are not alone in this journey, and finding a supportive community in national organizations and local support groups provides resources and practical guidance for creating meaningful rituals. One of our previous blogs Empathy in Action: Holding Space for Pregnancy and Infant Loss addresses this. 

Remember, seeking support isn’t a sign of weakness, it’s a sign of wisdom. You don’t have to navigate this alone.

Dr. Michelle El Khoury, Founder of Yogamazia