The “crunchy mom” trend is on the rise and—for the most part—I’m here for it. We are beginning to see the long-term effects of the lifestyle choices of our youth and understand how holistic approaches can reverse and prevent a number of the effects for the next generation. But the more deeply seeped I become in the crunchy community, the more I see the impracticality of some of its standards and the pressure it’s putting on moms or women trying to become moms. While I still wholeheartedly pursue a natural lifestyle, I’ve had to learn the hard way to what end.

A month after my second miscarriage, I read a woman’s miscarriage story and devoured it. I had no idea how hungry I was for sheer relatability. Knowing dozens of women who have walked through pregnancy loss, I thought I was set on the relatability front. But what I lacked from those women were details. As I began reading more pregnancy loss stories, I suddenly felt seen in the lonely abyss that is miscarriage grief. So today, I share my miscarriage story because I know what it’s like to feel alone after loss, and more than anything, I want other miscarriage mamas to know they are seen.

A month after my second loss, I read a woman’s miscarriage story and devoured it. Having known dozens of women who have suffered miscarriages, I didn’t think the raw relatability of this woman’s story was something I would be so hungry for. But then I realized knowing women have miscarried isn’t the same as knowing their stories. And somewhere in the lonely abyss that is miscarriage grief, I found myself desperate to talk to someone about the less socially acceptable parts of mine. So today, I share my miscarriage story so other miscarriage mamas may know they are not alone.