Only six weeks
Motherhood, Writing

“Only six weeks”

4 min read

A couple of week’s ago I published a post in which I told you all that I was feeling sad. I didn’t specifiy why. I wasn’t quite ready. However, I have been working on a sort of poem in which I process some of it.

“Only six weeks”

I don’t know why, but

I had imagined this experience, this loss long before it actually happened.

In my mind I romanticised the sadness,

Pictured myself spending hours playing melancholy songs on the piano.

People would treat me so delicately, hover around, voicing their concerns to one another in whispers.


Of course, reality was different.

There were tears, but no piano playing. 


Life just kept going.

The toddler, the other child, the one who had made it past the “criticial stage”, who grew and was born and grew even more – she still needed me. 

So I changed nappies and made food and read stories and sang her to sleep, like on every other day. And I was grateful for that.


There were no quiet whispers. There was quietness. Because not many people knew. You are not supposed to tell, because – what if something goes wrong?

Then it goes wrong and you feel alone. You have to decide whether to call your friends to tell them and figure out how. Or you don’t tell them because you just can’t find the right words and then feel bad for it.

Am I still supposed to keep it a secret? Should I be ashamed?


When I did tell, there were no quiet whispers. Just a few “I am sorry” and “at least it was only six weeks”.

This grief I had imagined as so consuming and so relatable, felt like it was diminished at every turn. Like I had no right to it.

After all, it was only six weeks. 


Only six weeks.

What does it mean? 

At six weeks the embryo starts growing tiny toes and fingers. The heart is beating.

But it is hardly anything, or anyone yet, right? Can you call this minuscule thing even a baby?

“I lost my baby.” Is that correct?

Am I right to call myself mother of two? Or is that me being overly dramatic?


This sadness is so much more confusing than I thought. It isn’t weeping and sad songs. But questions, so many questions.

Did I do something wrong? Did this happen because I am still breastfeeding? Or because I lifted my toddler too much? Was it the coffee that I drank?

And then, I also wonder – maybe I am not sad enough. A life died inside me. Shouldn’t this wreck me more? Should I not be unable to just carry on? Am I doing something wrong? 

I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know.


For what it’s worth, tiny one, what I do know is this: I was so excited about you. I couldn’t wait to love you. For you to grow inside my tummy and then turn our whole world upside down. I couldn’t wait to hold you, to know you, for you to meet your big sister. 

We miss you, tiny one. 

This is Day 91 of my 100 Day Project. You can learn more about my 100 day project by reading this postIf you want to do your own 100 day Project, I would recommend checking out the 100 Day Project website.

Previous Post Next Post

You Might Also Like


  • Reply Debbie 23 May 2023 at 4:48 pm

    Sending so much love and prayers.

    • Reply Britta 24 May 2023 at 2:17 pm

      Thank you so much Debbie 💛

  • Reply staceypardoe 24 May 2023 at 2:10 pm

    I have lived this out, too. So many emotions go along with a miscarriage. Above all else, it’s so important to just be gentle with ourselves and let ourselves feel what we feel without judgment. It is a very real loss to be grieved, but the “quietness” of it can be hard. Sending love…

    • Reply Britta 24 May 2023 at 2:17 pm

      Thank you for your wise and kind words Stacey. Much appreciated 💛

  • Reply Kinjal 24 May 2023 at 9:32 pm

    Thanks for sharing this – I lost a…well, tiny one (still find it hard to say Baby) at 12 weeks, just before my 12 week scan, in 2021 during the pandemic.

    I still have so many questions, 20 months later, and though we have been able to have our second, it has taken me time to process. I am still processing…I consider myself a mother of 3, privately, though others around me don’t. I don’t know how long they were around for but they were alive. It is /so/ hard and confusing of how to feel – I am sending you all the love and kindness I can.

    I was worried I’d forget about them, and I wanted a way to remember them, so last year I bought a Tommy’s star for the Christmas tree, as I lost them on 21st December 2011 and this bought me peace. The word “lost” angered me too, it’s not like I “misplaced them” but English isn’t a language that is useful for grief. And I worried I was “using up my grief” on someone who didn’t live a long life…and..yeah anyway, lots of meta-thoughts about how to feel..all of this to say, you may, or may not want a physical token to remember them by, but whatever you do is the right thing.

    I just wanted you to know you are not alone. I am not religious, but I hope your faith can bring you comfort. All your feelings are valid.


    • Reply Britta 25 May 2023 at 9:08 am

      Thank you Kinjal for your kind words and for sharing all this. I am so so sorry for your loss. It is such a confusing grief. I hope over time you will find peace and hopefully we get to see our babies again one day.
      Sending lots of love, Britta

  • Reply Julia 29 May 2023 at 7:01 am

    Liebe Britta.
    Ich hab’s gelesen, und weiß es jetzt. Wenn du also jemanden zum Reden brauchst, kannst du dich einfach melden.

    Nein. Du hast nichts falsch gemacht.

    Das Leben konnte nicht bleiben. Aus welchem Grund auch immer. Aber sicherlich nicht, weil du noch stillst.

    Ich wünsch dir Alles Gute!

  • I love hearing from you