How do you handle going back to work/school and being around friends when you’re not okay—especially when people either say the wrong thing or expect you to just move on?

Pregnancy and FertilityMiscarriage and Pregna...

1 Jan

Going back to work or school after pregnancy loss is basically performing “I’m fine” while your insides are on fire. You don’t owe anyone a full explanation, but you do deserve flexibility. If you can, ask for: extra time off, lighter workload, remote options, or deadline extensions. You can keep it vague (“medical complication”) or specific (“pregnancy loss”)—your choice, not theirs.With friends and coworkers, scripts help. Try: “I’m not ready to talk about it, but thanks for asking,” or “I appreciate you checking in; I’m having a hard day.” You’re allowed to mute group chats, skip events, and walk away from conversations that hurt. Healing while surrounded by people who don’t get it is exhausting, but boundaries, small routines, and at least one safe person can make going back survivable.If you want help scripting the email to your boss, the text to your group chat, or what to say when someone asks a brutal question at the worst time, you can Chat with Gush and workshop it in real time.

How to go back to work or school after miscarriage when you’re not okay

You are not “too sensitive” for struggling to function

The world treats pregnancy loss like a footnote. Your body just went through a medical event, your hormones fell off a cliff, and you lost something real—and then capitalism and school schedules expect you back in the chair like nothing happened.Struggling to:

Focus on emails or lectures
Care about assignments, shifts, or career goals
Be around pregnant people or babies
Listen to small talk without wanting to scream

…is not overreacting. It’s a sane response to an insane level of pressure.Your brain is juggling:

Grief: Sadness, anger, confusion about the future.
Hormonal chaos: hCG, estrogen, and progesterone falling, which can fuel depression, irritability, and brain fog.
Physical recovery: Bleeding, cramps, fatigue.

Expecting yourself to snap back instantly isn’t strength; it’s self-bullying.

Planning your return: options you’re allowed to ask for

You don’t need to spill your whole story to deserve accommodations. You can say as much or as little as feels safe.Possible options:

More time off: Sick leave, medical leave, or using vacation/personal days.
Reduced workload: Fewer shifts, lighter caseload, or fewer classes for a bit.
Remote or hybrid work: Especially while bleeding or dealing with physical after-effects.
Flexible deadlines: Extensions on assignments, exams, or projects.

Sample email to a boss/professor:

“I recently experienced a pregnancy-related medical complication and am still recovering. I’m committed to my work, but I’m not at full capacity right now. Can we talk about temporary adjustments (extended deadlines / remote work / lighter workload) so I can recover safely and still meet expectations?”

You don’t have to use the word “miscarriage” if you don’t want to. “Pregnancy-related medical issue” is accurate and valid.Halfway through this, if you’re thinking, “Okay but my situation is messy and my boss/professor is a nightmare,” you’re exactly who we built Gush for—come talk through your options with someone who’s on your side.

Handling people who say the wrong thing

People can be breathtakingly bad at grief. You may hear:

“At least it was early.”
“You can try again.”
“Everything happens for a reason.”
Or the classic: total silence and avoidance.

You are allowed to:

Shut it down: “I know you mean well, but that’s not helpful for me right now.”
Redirect: “I’m not up for talking about the details, but I could really use a distraction—how are you?”
Educate (if you have the energy): “Miscarriage is still a loss. I need you to treat it like that.”
Walk away: Literally. Mid-sentence if you need to.

You’re not responsible for managing other people’s discomfort. If someone makes it about them—“I just don’t know what to say, this is so hard for me”—you get to mentally tap out.

Talking to friends: different circles, different access

Not everyone deserves front-row access to your grief.You can divide people into circles:

Inner circle: Gets the whole truth. You can ugly-cry, rage, or say things you don’t fully mean yet.
Middle circle: Knows something happened, gets a shorter version. “I had a pregnancy loss; I’m not okay, but I don’t want to get into details.”
Outer circle: Only hears “I had a medical issue; I’m recovering.”

Script for when you don’t want to talk:

“I appreciate you asking. I’m not ready to talk about it, but it means a lot that you care.”

Or, shorter:

“I don’t want to get into it, but I’m having a hard week. Thanks for understanding.”

Navigating triggers: pregnancies, babies, and social media

Pregnancy announcements, baby showers, and gender reveals can feel like a punch to the gut. That doesn’t make you bitter; it makes you human.You’re allowed to:

Mute: Hide pregnant friends or baby accounts for a while.
Skip events: Send a gift and a simple note: “I love you and I’m celebrating you from afar. I’m not up for being there in person right now.”
Leave early: Go to the non-baby part of an event (dinner, drinks) and duck out before the belly touching and gift opening.

If a coworker gets pregnant or someone at school constantly talks about their bump, you can set a quiet boundary with them or with yourself (headphones, strategic seating, changing study groups).

Keeping your body and brain afloat while you “perform normal”

You’re basically running two lives: the one on the outside and the one in your head. These can help:

Micro-routines: A morning drink you always make, a 5-minute walk between classes, a song you play after work. Tiny anchors tell your nervous system, “We’re still here.”
Grounding breaks: In the bathroom stall or stairwell: five deep breaths, feel your feet on the floor, name 5 things you can see/hear/feel.
Comfort stash: Heat pack, pads, pain meds, water, snacks in your bag/locker/desk for when your body acts up at school or work.
After-work/school decompression: A hard cry, rage journaling, music, or a show you’ve seen 10 times. Your brain needs off-duty time.

If your cycle is coming back while you’re juggling all this, you might notice:

Follicular phase: Slight boost in focus and energy—good time for heavier tasks if you can.
Ovulation: Hormones peak; emotions can also spike. Be gentle with social stuff these days.
Luteal phase: PMS + grief can feel like a wave. Plan in extra softness (less social, more rest).
Menstrual phase: Bleeding itself can re-trigger the loss. Build in space if possible.

None of this makes you weak. It makes you someone who survived something real and is still showing up in a world that pretends it wasn’t a big deal. That’s resilience, not failure.