The video explores a deeply personal yet widely relatable journey through miscarriages and the struggle to understand their causes. The speaker, a family medicine physician, shares her experiences with multiple miscarriages and their emotional and physical impacts. Despite her medical background, she turned to online community support, where she found vital information that led to her own diagnosis, supporting her subsequent successful pregnancies.

This presentation is vital for any woman who has faced, or is facing, the painful experience of miscarriage. It emphasizes the importance of sharing personal stories, constructing supportive communities, and advocating for medical advancement. The speaker shares gratitude for the online community that guided her through her darkest times and encourages others to share their stories to support the wider community and drive medical research forward.

Main takeaways from the video:

Please remember to turn on the CC button to view the subtitles.

Key Vocabularies and Common Phrases:

1. miscarriage [ˈmɪskærɪdʒ] - (n.) - The spontaneous loss of a pregnancy before the fetus is viable. - Synonyms: (spontaneous abortion, pregnancy loss, stillbirth)

Now, even in the midst of my shock, pain, fear, sadness, as a family medicine physician, I knew the statistics on miscarriages.

2. statistics [stəˈtɪstɪks] - (n.) - Data and numerical facts collected through research and surveys. - Synonyms: (data, figures, numbers)

Now, even in the midst of my shock, pain, fear, sadness, as a family medicine physician, I knew the statistics on miscarriages

3. reciting [rɪˈsaɪtɪŋ] - (v.) - Repeating information aloud from memory. - Synonyms: (repeating, recounting, retelling)

However, after my miscarriage, reciting this information to myself was actually all I needed from a medical standpoint to carry me through my time of loss.

4. progesterone [prəˈdʒɛstərəʊn] - (n.) - A hormone released in the ovaries that helps maintain pregnancies. - Synonyms: (hormone, steroid, compound)

luteal phase defect, or progesterone deficiency.

5. deficiency [dɪˈfɪʃənsi] - (n.) - A lack or shortage of a necessary element or quality. - Synonyms: (lack, shortage, insufficiency)

luteal phase defect, or progesterone deficiency

6. protocol [ˈprəʊtəkɒl] - (n.) - A set of official rules or procedures to be followed. - Synonyms: (procedure, guidelines, standards)

And if a treatment protocol had been established each year, the answer came back the same.

7. recurrent [rɪˈkɜːrənt] - (adj.) - Occurring repeatedly or periodically. - Synonyms: (repeated, frequent, persisting)

It was here that I started to read stories of women who'd suffered recurrent miscarriages.

8. insightful [ˈɪnsaɪtfʊl] - (adj.) - Having or showing a deep understanding or perception. - Synonyms: (perceptive, astute, wise)

And receiving insightful, intelligent, encouraging responses.

9. battling [ˈbætlɪŋ] - (v.) - Fighting or struggling to achieve or resist something. - Synonyms: (fighting, struggling, combating)

It was here that I found a legion of women battling together against recurrent miscarriages.

10. luteal [ˈluːtiəl] - (adj.) - Relating to the corpus luteum or the phase of the menstrual cycle following ovulation. - Synonyms: (menstrual, ovulation-related, cyclic)

luteal phase defect, or progesterone deficiency.

I had two miscarriages, and I’m not alone - Joni Cazeau - TEDxAmoskeagMillyard

In January of 2014, my husband and I found out we were expecting our first child. In February, we found out I'd miscarried. Now, even in the midst of my shock, pain, fear, sadness, as a family medicine physician, I knew the statistics on miscarriages. I knew that when we include both pregnancies known and unknown to the medical community, that approximately 30%, or almost one in three women, have suffered a miscarriage. I also knew that the majority of these women go on to have successful pregnancies in the future.

Oddly enough, prior to my miscarriage, when I'd shared this information with my patients, I'd felt this encouragement was grossly inadequate to address the magnitude of their loss. However, after my miscarriage, reciting this information to myself was actually all I needed from a medical standpoint to carry me through my time of loss.

My husband and I tried our best to follow all of the recommendations from our physicians, and nine months later, in September of 2014, we found out I was pregnant again. Now, this seemed like the perfect gift from God because we found out I was pregnant during the month our first child would have been born. So instead of focusing on our loss, we were filled with great joy and expectation. In November, we found out I miscarried again. Now, this second blow is still difficult to describe because I felt like I died.

To add to it, I also had medical complications requiring multiple doctor visits, and by Thanksgiving, I felt like a shell of myself. However, the worst part was that this second miscarriage brought the realization that there was something wrong with me that was causing my miscarriages, and that was absolutely devastating. I went through November and December, the holidays, in a fog. To help me, my husband took me on a trip to my home church in New Orleans, Louisiana, for New Year's. It worked. I returned from New Orleans with restored life, strength, and hope.

In January of 2015, I began searching for answers. The questions that ran circles through my mind were, what's wrong with me? What's wrong with my body? You see, both of my miscarriages occurred at approximately seven weeks into my pregnancies, and that proximity just seemed too close to be a coincidence. You don't just lose two babies at exactly the same age or within a week of each other, and I couldn't help but think that there was some common factor.

Again, as a family medicine physician, I was very familiar with miscarriages. However, I could not find a diagnosis to answer my questions in any of my textbooks, journals, or medical societies. I actually had to turn to Internet searches, and there I found online chat Groups with other women. It was here that I started to read stories of women who'd suffered recurrent miscarriages, which means they'd had more than one miscarriage. I read as many posts as I could, and at this point, I started to see a community of women sharing information and asking questions, medical and non-medical, and receiving insightful, intelligent, encouraging responses.

It was here that I found a legion of women battling together against recurrent miscarriages. And while these women discussed many different causes of miscarriage, one particular discussion trend began to catch my eye. Early pregnancy miscarriages. Again, I read as many posts as I could, and one particular diagnosis began to catch my eye. luteal phase defect, or progesterone deficiency. You see, progesterone is the hormone that actually supports and maintains a pregnancy until the placenta formation is complete, which occurs towards the end of the first trimester.

Why hadn't I heard of this as a cause for recurrent miscarriages? I read stories of women who'd undergone successful treatment and gone on to have successful pregnancies. And these women encouraged us to take this diagnosis back to our physicians and ask about it for ourselves. Amazingly, when I did ask my physician about this diagnosis, she tested me. And I too had a progesterone deficiency. I was beyond relieved just to have a diagnosis we could at least try to treat. She did subscribe or prescribe supplemental therapy for me, and I went on to have three successful pregnancies, each one requiring supplemental treatment.

After the delivery of my first child, I began checking yearly to see if my medical resources, journals, and societies had updated their information to include progesterone deficiency as a cause for recurrent miscarriages. And if a treatment protocol had been established each year, the answer came back the same. No, it hadn't. And all I could think was, thank you, Lord, for those women online. What would I have done without those women? Would I have ever had a successful pregnancy? How could I ever let them know what they'd done for me?

So I'd like to pause to say thank you to those women online for giving me life when I was in my darkest hour. Thank you for boldly and unashamedly sharing your stories and creating a community where I could come when I felt guilt, shame, fear, physical pain, emotional pain, extreme sadness, and so, so, so alone. Thank you for encouraging myself and the other ladies to take the information you shared back to our physicians and inquire for ourselves. Thank you for helping me to become a mother and thus experience the joys of motherhood.

Remember almost One in three women have suffered a miscarriage. So women who have suffered a miscarriage, you are not alone. We are not alone. Our stories are all different. Our causes of miscarriage are varied. The physical, emotional, financial, spiritual strain on us is varied. I know my story is not the same as your story, but as you can tell from my story, there's someone coming behind us. Someone who'll be just as scared as we were. Someone who will be just as confused as we were. Someone who'll be searching just as we were. And if we don't share our stories, they will not know. They will not know that their sadness is normal. They will not know that it's okay to laugh again.

I actually remember feeling guilty the first time I laughed after my miscarriage. Yes, I had to learn how to laugh again and to know that it was okay. But they won't know unless we tell them, as in my story. Another important reason to share our stories is because they lead to medical advancements and breakthroughs. Back in 2016, when I had my first child, a woman had to have at least two miscarriages before even starting a workup for recurrent miscarriages. progesterone deficiency, the diagnosis I ultimately received, wasn't even considered a cause for recurrent miscarriages. And if a physician did make that diagnosis, there was no standard of care for treatment in place.

Fast forward to 2024. While not everywhere, in some places a woman is offered progesterone supplementation after one miscarriage, now a lot more research needs to be done on this topic, but that is huge. While there are many causes for recurrent miscarriages, this forward progress alone will help to save so many other women from becoming recurrent miscarriers. So when we share our stories, we not only help other women, we help the medical community get better statistics, which leads to more research, medical trials, medical breakthroughs, and advancements. Our individual stories lead to collective stories, and our collective stories have power.

However, there's another important population of women we must acknowledge. Strong women who, through the generations and here today, who have suffered miscarriage in silence. Women who, for their own personal reasons, never shared their story of miscarriage, but continued on daily with strength and dignity that may have gone unrecognized. Women who continue to pour love into children who were and were not their biological children. I have a voice today because of their silent strength. I am so grateful for these women for continuing to love and to love well, because we know the loss of our unborn children will remain with us for the rest of our lives, whether we go on to have other children or not.

I actually never planned on talking about my miscarriages either, and I said nothing for seven years. But I have a daughter coming after me, and if I want to try to save her from unnecessary pain, suffering and loss, I have to talk about miscarriages. She is my reason. My hope today is that by sharing my story with you that you have also found your reason to share your story.

As I stated before, when we share our stories, we build networks of support for each other, we help the medical community move forward, and we inform and arm our future generations. However, the decision to share your story is your choice. We did not have a choice in our miscarriages. We do have a choice in when, if and how we choose to share our stories. If you have not yet found your reason just by continuing to live and love, you are enough. We are enough. We have done enough. I stand here the benefactor of women on both sides, and I will be forever grateful.

So, women who've suffered a miscarriage, friends, family, acquaintances of women who suffered a miscarriage, even when we feel our most isolated, we are not alone. I will say it again, it is almost one in three of us. So if you choose to leave this talk today and go forward by getting more education on this topic or getting involved in research, I would love to see more research targeting treatment interventions for women following one miscarriage or research better identifying causes of early pregnancy loss.

Or if you choose to leave this talk and go forward by sharing your own story or helping others find their voice to share their story. Or finally, if you choose to leave this talk and go forward by sharing strength and love, our next generations need us all. What does sharing your story look like?

Well, a first step could be opening up to close friends and family. I remember it feels like almost every time I would share my story with someone close to me, they would come back and say they'd also suffered a miscarriage. Women I'd known for years. I already had a support system in place of which I was unaware. Taking this first step may open other doors that you may want to enter.

My hope is that today I'm advancing the needle just a little bit further. In this battle against recurrent miscarriages. However, collectively, the impact we could make could far exceed what any of us could ever imagine or think. And that gift of life to our future generations would truly be a beautiful gift to give.

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