I lost 2 pregnancies during the first year of my PhD

It’s been a week since I lost my second child, and here I am sitting in my PhD computer lab with my head in the clouds and my body floating around like it’s not attached to the ground, deciding to write down my stories as a way of piecing the past few months of my life together.

I found out I was pregnant with my first child—Nem—in September, and I lost him by the end of October. I had the second child—Tieu—in December and soon lost him in early January. It’s funny how easy it is to describe what happened in just two sentences, because for me it has felt like a lifetime. When I was miscarrying Nem I was devastating, but this time, when Tieu left my body, the only thing I felt is emptiness. I guess it has hit me harder than I’m allowing myself to let in. And so I’m doing what I always do when faced with hardship: contemplating about life and death and the meaning of life.

A profound revelation started to sink deep down inside me that I have been greedy and contradictory about what I want to do. Having a child during my PhD was not part of my plans in the beginning, because I was well aware that a child could and would slow me down, and if I ever wanted to complete my PhD on time then a baby will counteract that. Now that I am into my second year, hit hard by the cost of living crisis and political instability, having a child has become a luxury that rationally I should not be thinking of. On the other hand, me being me, a positive person in the negativity of reality, I want so badly to start my own family as soon as possible because I know comes what may we’ll get through it. That was why even though Nem was an accident, I was so happy and full of hope. Losing Nem was like a sign for me that maybe then was not a good time for my baby to come into the world, and instead we should be more focused on our career so we can give our children the best possible life. But of course we were too stubborn to care about all that. We decided to try again right after the doctor gave us the green light without thinking much about whether it was the right time. And Tieu came and went, this time much quicker than Nem but the impact was just as big. Exhausted, physically and emotionally—I think this might be the limit for me. Reality was screaming at our faces that we’re not ready in every way. Understandably, like an incompetent child trying to ride the mono cycle without the proper skills and falling face first, we were angry, ashamed, and helpless. But at the same time, we grew a little bit, and learned to accept our limitations.

That being said, as a scientific person I am not blaming the entire thing on our unreadiness. Would the outcome of the pregnancies be different if we were more ready? I doubt it. But this is the way of thinking that is making sense to me at the stage I am in right now. It gives me a reason, a sense of control, and hope. Hope that at the end of the line there will be a time when things will be alright and I can hold my baby in my arms.

Why am I sharing this on a blog that is supposed to be about my PhD life? First, because this was part of my PhD life. When I was miscarrying the first time, I was looking for information and support specifically for PhD students, but there was none. I think the impact of such events on one’s studies is so substantial that it deserves more attention. In the following posts I’ll be sharing my own experience with the miscarriages in case some poor mommy/PhD-to-be needs it. Second, the other day when I was feeling very weak and needed to go home early, some of my colleagues jokingly told me that I was ‘complaining’ a lot about my poor health, and that they also had problems but they didn’t complain as much. I’m not blaming them because they didn’t know my situation and although it was a bad joke, they meant well. But this post is a kind reminder to myself and all the struggling doctoral researchers out there that this is not a race. It’s not about who chips in more hours and progresses quicker. Everyone’s got a life outside of their PhD and got problems of their own. So it’s fine to take a step back to take care of ourselves.