When You're Pregnant After Loss But Too Terrified to Feel Joy: Surviving the Holidays When Everyone Expects Celebration
⏱️ Quick Read (2 minutes)
If you're pregnant after miscarriage or stillbirth this December, you might be:
Too terrified to announce your pregnancy (even past "safe" milestones)
Triggered by family's excitement when you feel only fear
Grieving your first baby whilst growing your second
Feeling guilty that you can't match everyone's Christmas joy
This article gives you:
Permission to protect yourself however you need to
Practical CBT strategies for managing anxiety and grief
Scripts for boundary-setting with family
A realistic action plan for surviving December
Not ready to read 7,200 words? Jump to the section you need most:
You're twelve weeks pregnant. Or maybe fifteen. Perhaps twenty. The number doesn't matter because the truth is the same: you're absolutely terrified to tell anyone.
Your sister just posted an elaborate pregnancy announcement video—gender reveal smoke bombs, a perfectly styled photoshoot, squealing excitement. Your mum shared it with crying-happy emojis and "I'm going to be a granny again!" Meanwhile, you're hiding in the bathroom at the Christmas party, staring at your barely-there bump, feeling a toxic mixture of guilt, fear, and something that might be jealousy but feels more like grief.
They don't know you're pregnant too. You can't tell them. Because what if you have to un-tell them? What if there's no heartbeat at the next scan? What if you jinx it by saying it out loud?
Or perhaps you did tell your family, and now you wish you hadn't. Because they're planning. Talking about next Christmas with a baby. Asking about nursery colours. Your mother-in-law keeps saying "Don't worry, it'll be different this time!" and every word feels like shards of glass. They're so certain. You're not certain of anything except your own terror.
I'm Sarah, a perinatal CBT therapist based in Leicestershire, and I specialise in supporting women through pregnancy after loss. In my practice, December is consistently when my clients tell me they feel most isolated. Everyone around them is celebrating—or expecting them to celebrate—whilst they're living in what feels like a completely different reality. A reality where two pink lines don't guarantee a baby. Where excitement feels dangerous. Where hope and grief sit side by side, neither one fully winning.
Today, I want to address three specific struggles that Christmas amplifies when you're pregnant after miscarriage or stillbirth: the paralysis around announcing your pregnancy, coping when family treats your pregnancy as certain when you can't feel that certainty, and carrying your grief for the baby you lost whilst growing the baby you're desperate to believe in.
Why December Makes Everything Harder When You're Pregnant After Loss
Before we dive into strategies, let's acknowledge what's actually happening in your body and mind right now.
Research shows that women who've experienced pregnancy loss face significantly elevated anxiety during subsequent pregnancies—with studies indicating that nearly 20% develop clinically significant anxiety or depression, and for many, symptoms persist for one to three years. But here's what the statistics don't capture: the profound psychological complexity of being pregnant again after your world has already shattered once.
Dr Denise Côté-Arsenault, a leading researcher on pregnancy after loss, describes it as living with "one foot in, one foot out." You're simultaneously allowing yourself tiny moments of hope whilst keeping one foot firmly planted in protective detachment, because you know—viscerally, in a way others don't—that wanting a baby doesn't guarantee getting one.
December intensifies this impossible position because:
The cultural script demands joy and certainty. Christmas is all about family, children, future, magic. When you're pregnant but can't access joy because you're too afraid, the gap between what you're experiencing and what's expected of you feels enormous.
Everyone else's announcements are everywhere. December is peak pregnancy announcement season. Festive photoshoots, cute Christmas-themed reveals, the optimism and confidence in others' posts can make your own fear feel even more isolating.
Family gatherings force proximity and conversation. You can't avoid your mum's hopeful questions or your auntie's well-meaning comments about baby's first Christmas when you're all sitting around the same dinner table.
Anniversary dates loom large. Many of my clients lost their babies in late autumn or winter, or their due dates were around the holidays. Every Christmas decoration, every year-end reflection, becomes a painful reminder of what should have been.
Grief doesn't take a holiday. The expectation to be merry and grateful when you're actively grieving creates a pressure cooker of emotion. You're supposed to be "over it" by now. You're not. And now you're pregnant again, which everyone assumes means you should be happy. You're not. Not in the uncomplicated way they expect.
Let's address each of these challenges with practical, evidence-based strategies rooted in CBT and trauma-informed approaches.
Part 1: When You Can't Bring Yourself to Announce Your Pregnancy
The Paralysis of Pregnancy After Loss
One of my clients described it perfectly: "I see friends posting their scan photos at eight weeks with pure excitement, and I think—how? How are you not absolutely terrified? How do you trust that this is real?"
After loss, your brain has learned a devastating lesson: pregnancy doesn't equal baby. The optimism that allows other people to announce early, to buy tiny clothes at twelve weeks, to excitedly plan nurseries—you don't have access to that anymore. Your nervous system won't let you.
So you stay silent. Weeks pass. Maybe months. You might be showing but still haven't told your family. Or you've told your partner but no one else. Perhaps you've even had the twenty-week scan and still can't bring yourself to say the words out loud to anyone beyond your immediate bubble.
And then December arrives, and everyone around you is making big, joyful announcements. Your friend's Instagram pregnancy reveal gets 200 likes. Your cousin announces at Christmas dinner to squeals of delight. Your colleague does a cute gift box reveal for their parents.
And you feel... what? Jealous? Angry? Sad? Guilty that you can't just be happy like them? All of it, probably. Plus a crushing sense of isolation because you're pregnant too, but you're living in a completely different emotional universe.
Why You Can't Announce (And Why That's Okay)
Let me be really clear about something: your fear is not irrational. It's not you being pessimistic or negative. It's your nervous system trying to protect you from experiencing the catastrophic pain of loss again.
Research on pregnancy after loss consistently shows that anxiety doesn't decrease after passing the gestation at which you lost previously. Getting past twelve weeks doesn't magically make the fear disappear. Neither does twenty weeks. For many women, they don't truly believe they're having a baby until the baby is actually in their arms, alive and breathing.
Here's what I want you to understand: you don't owe anyone an announcement.
Not on their timeline. Not in their preferred format. Not with their expected enthusiasm.
Your pregnancy. Your trauma. Your timeline.
Some women announce at eight weeks because they want support through early pregnancy. Others wait until after birth. Neither is wrong. The "right" time is whenever—if ever—you feel ready.
The Guilt When Others Announce Easily
But here's where it gets complicated, doesn't it? When you see others announcing with such ease and joy, it's not simple jealousy. It's more like grief meeting inadequacy.
Thoughts like:
"Why can she be excited and I can't?"
"What's wrong with me that I can't just enjoy being pregnant?"
"Am I damaging my baby by not bonding? By not being happy?"
"Everyone else gets to have this uncomplicated joy and I'm broken"
Let's challenge these thoughts using CBT reframing:
Unhelpful thought: "She gets to be excited and carefree and I have to live in constant fear. It's not fair."
Reality check: "She hasn't lived through what I've lived through. Her nervous system hasn't learned what mine has learned. Our different reactions make perfect sense given our different experiences. My caution is protective, not defective."
Unhelpful thought: "I'm pregnant but I can't announce it. I'm pregnant but I can't be happy. I'm doing it wrong."
Reality check: "There is no 'wrong' way to be pregnant after loss. My feelings are adaptive responses to trauma. Protecting my heart isn't wrong—it's wise. I'm not broken; I'm wounded and healing at my own pace."
Unhelpful thought: "If I don't feel excited, I'm going to damage my baby. I'm already failing as a mother."
Reality check: "Research shows that what babies need is safe, responsive care after birth—not perfect maternal joy during pregnancy. My baby doesn't know whether I announced at 8 weeks or 38 weeks. My caution during pregnancy doesn't predict my capacity to love and care for my child. Many women who were terrified throughout pregnancy become devoted, bonded mothers."
Practical Strategies When You're Not Ready to Announce
Strategy 1: Give yourself explicit permission to wait
Write this down, put it somewhere you'll see it: "I have permission to announce my pregnancy when and if I feel ready. My timeline is valid."
One client kept a note in her phone that said: "Just because I'm 20 weeks doesn't mean I have to tell people. I can wait until 30 weeks. Or 40. Or until the baby is here. This is my journey and my choice."
Strategy 2: Prepare a script for if you're "caught"
If your bump becomes visible before you're ready to talk about it, or someone asks directly, have a prepared response that protects your boundaries:
"Yes, I'm pregnant, but I'm not ready to talk about it yet given what we've been through. I hope you can respect that."
"We are expecting, but we're being very cautious this time. I'm sure you understand."
"I'm pregnant, but I need everyone to just let me be quiet about it for now. No questions, no planning, no excitement. I'll let you know when I'm ready for more."
Strategy 3: Limit social media exposure during peak announcement season
If seeing others' pregnancy announcements is triggering (and it is for most women pregnant after loss), give yourself permission to step back from social media from early December through early January.
You don't need to explain. You don't need to justify. A simple "taking a break from socials for the holidays" is enough—or don't say anything at all.
One of my clients said: "I deactivated Instagram for six weeks. People who needed to reach me had my number. It was the best thing I did for my mental health during pregnancy after loss."
Strategy 4: Create a micro-support network who "know"
Even if you're not ready for a public announcement, having two or three people who know and can hold space for your fear is crucial. This might be:
Your partner (obviously)
One close friend who's been through loss
A therapist or counsellor
An online pregnancy after loss support group
These are people you can text at 2am when you're convinced something's wrong. People who won't say "just think positive!" People who understand that terror and hope coexist messily in your body right now.
Strategy 5: Challenge the "jinx" thinking gently
Many women describe a magical thinking pattern: "If I tell people, something will go wrong. If I buy baby clothes, I'll jinx it. If I let myself hope, it'll be taken away."
Here's what I say to my clients: Announcing or not announcing your pregnancy does not cause outcomes. Buying a babygrow does not make your baby's heart stop beating. Hoping does not jinx anything.
I know your anxious brain doesn't believe that. Your traumatised nervous system is looking for control wherever it can find it. "If I just stay quiet, stay small, don't hope too much, maybe this time it'll work."
But the truth—the hard, unfair truth—is that you don't have control over whether this pregnancy continues. Announcing doesn't cause loss. Staying silent doesn't prevent it.
What you do have control over is how you care for yourself in this uncertainty. And if staying quiet feels protective right now, that's completely valid. Just recognise it for what it is: a coping mechanism, not a magic spell.
Strategy 6: Consider a "soft announcement" approach
Some women find a middle ground helpful: telling people individually rather than making a public announcement. This allows you to:
Control who knows and when
Gauge reactions one at a time rather than being overwhelmed by responses
Pull back if it feels like too much
Share with the caveat "I'm not ready to talk about this widely yet"
One client told close family in person, one at a time, with the explicit request: "Please don't post about this on social media. Please don't make a fuss. I need this to stay quiet."
Strategy 7: Remember—you can always change your mind
Maybe you decide to wait until after birth to tell anyone. Then at 35 weeks you suddenly feel ready to share. That's okay.
Maybe you announce at 14 weeks, then wish you hadn't, and ask people to stop discussing it with you. That's okay too.
Pregnancy after loss doesn't follow a neat script. You're allowed to feel your way through, adjusting as you go.
If the paralysis around announcing your pregnancy feels overwhelming, or if you're struggling to manage the anxiety day-to-day, you don't have to navigate this alone. I offer specialised CBT therapy for women experiencing pregnancy after loss, helping you develop practical strategies to cope with fear whilst honouring your grief. Book a free 15-minute discovery call to see if we might be a good fit.
📌 Key Takeaways: Announcing Your Pregnancy After Loss
Remember:
You don't owe anyone an announcement on their timeline
Your fear is protective, not defective—it makes sense given what you've been through
Announcing (or not) doesn't cause outcomes; it's not a jinx
You can change your mind at any point
Other people's ease doesn't mean something is wrong with you
Most helpful strategy: Give yourself explicit permission to wait as long as YOU need, not as long as others expect.
Part 2: When Family's Certainty About Your Baby Triggers Your Fear
The Unbearable Weight of Their Hope
You finally told them. Your mum. Your in-laws. Maybe wider family at a Christmas gathering because you knew the questions were coming and you couldn't keep deflecting.
And their reaction was... everything you feared and needed in equal, complicated measure.
Joy. Relief. Excitement. Your mum immediately starts planning. Your mother-in-law wants to talk names. Someone asks if you've thought about the nursery. Your sister starts sending you baby clothes links. Everyone keeps saying versions of the same thing:
"This time will be different!" "I just know this baby is going to be fine!" "Next Christmas, we'll have a little one here!" "Don't worry, you're past the danger point now!" "I can't wait to meet them!"
And every single word, though meant with love, lands like a small violence.
Because they're so certain. And you're not certain of anything. Their hope feels like pressure. Their excitement feels like expectation. Their planning feels like tempting fate. Their reassurances feel like minimisation of your very real, very valid fear.
This is one of the most isolating aspects of pregnancy after loss: the gap between how everyone else experiences your pregnancy and how you're experiencing it internally.
Why Their Certainty Feels So Triggering
When you've lost a pregnancy, you've learned something that fortunate people don't know: that wanted pregnancies end. That healthy scans can be followed by death. That babies you've named and loved can simply... stop.
Your family haven't learned that lesson. Or if they grieved your loss, they've moved past it in a way you can't. For them, this pregnancy is a fresh start. A reason to be excited. Hope restored.
For you, this pregnancy is terrifying. Every day you don't bleed feels like a miracle you don't trust. Every scan is an ordeal, not an excitement. The idea of "next Christmas with baby" isn't joyful—it's presumptuous. How dare anyone assume this baby will be here? How dare they speak with such certainty about something that feels so fragile?
Research by Dr Denise Côté-Arsenault found that women pregnant after loss often describe feeling like they're not actually "expecting a baby"—they're "enduring a pregnancy" and hoping for the best. One woman in her study said: "Someone sent me a baby present six weeks before my due date and I started crying because I hadn't let myself think I was actually going to have a baby."
That's the disconnect. Your family are buying baby presents. You're still not convinced there will be a baby to give them to.
The Guilt Layer: "I Should Be Grateful They're Excited"
And then there's the guilt, isn't there? Because part of you knows they're just trying to be supportive. They're excited because they love you. They want to believe this time will work because they want it for you.
But knowing that intellectually doesn't stop their words from landing wrong. Doesn't stop you wanting to scream "STOP PLANNING. STOP BEING SO CERTAIN. YOU DON'T KNOW. NONE OF US KNOW."
Then you feel guilty for being angry at people who are just trying to help. You feel guilty for not matching their joy. You feel guilty for making everyone walk on eggshells around you. You feel guilty that your trauma is affecting everyone's ability to be happy about this pregnancy.
Let me disrupt that guilt cycle right now: Your family's discomfort with your fear is not your responsibility to fix.
Your job right now is survival. Getting through each day. Making it to the next scan. Protecting your mental health. That's it. You are not responsible for managing everyone else's emotions about your pregnancy.
Practical Strategies for Managing Family's Certainty
Strategy 1: Set explicit boundaries about pregnancy talk
When you tell family you're pregnant (or if you already have), include boundaries in that conversation:
"I'm pregnant, and I need you to know I'm not in the same emotional place you might be. I'm terrified. So I need us to agree on some things:
Please don't talk about 'when baby arrives' like it's certain. I can't handle that certainty yet.
Please don't ask me about nurseries, names, or planning. I'm taking this one scan at a time.
Please don't tell me not to worry or that everything will be fine. You don't know that, and it doesn't help.
What I need from you is to sit with my fear alongside me, not try to fix it or dismiss it."
Strategy 2: Create a "safe phrase" to pause overwhelming conversations
With close family members, establish a phrase you can use when pregnancy talk becomes too much:
"I need to pause this conversation." "This is feeling like too much right now." "I'm not in a space to talk about this today."
Practice using this before you need it. Write it in your phone. The more automatic it becomes, the easier it'll be to deploy when anxiety spikes.
Strategy 3: Redirect the energy toward present support rather than future planning
When family want to help but their "help" feels overwhelming, redirect them:
Instead of: "I'm buying you a cot!" You say: "What would actually help is if you could come round and cook dinner once a week so I don't have to think about it."
Instead of: "Have you thought about names?" You say: "Actually, what I need is someone to come to my scan with me because I'm terrified."
Instead of: "I can't wait for next Christmas with the baby!" You say: "I need us to focus on right now, not next year. Can we just be in today together?"
Give them concrete, present-tense ways to support you that don't involve certainty about the future.
Strategy 4: Educate them about pregnancy after loss (if you have energy)
Sometimes family genuinely don't understand why you're not excited. They think you're being pessimistic or not letting yourself be happy. If you have the emotional bandwidth, you can try educating them:
"After losing a baby, my brain works differently now. I've learned that wanting a baby doesn't mean you get one. So when you talk about next Christmas with certainty, my nervous system responds with panic because I don't have that certainty. I'm not being negative—I'm protecting myself. What I need is for you to be able to sit in this uncertainty with me rather than rushing to fix it with optimism."
Share articles from Tommy's UK or the Miscarriage Association about pregnancy after loss if it helps them understand.
But here's the crucial bit: you are not obliged to educate anyone if it's too exhausting. You can just enforce boundaries without explanation.
Strategy 5: Limit time with people who can't respect your boundaries
This is hard, especially during the holidays when family time is expected. But if certain relatives consistently dismiss your feelings, push your boundaries, or make pregnancy after loss harder, you can:
Attend gatherings for shorter periods
Skip certain events entirely
See people one-on-one rather than in large groups
Be "busy" or "unwell" when you need an out
One of my clients told her family she had hyperemesis (extreme morning sickness) and used it as a legitimate reason to limit visits during her first and second trimesters. She didn't actually have hyperemesis—she just couldn't handle their constant pregnancy talk.
Strategy 6: Use CBT reframing for the guilt
When guilt about "spoiling everyone's joy" overwhelms you, challenge it:
Guilt says: "I'm making everyone miserable with my anxiety. I should just pretend to be happy so they can be excited."
Reality check: "My family's emotional regulation is their responsibility, not mine. I'm not 'making' them feel anything. They're responding to a difficult situation. My authentic feelings don't make me a bad person. Faking joy to spare them discomfort would damage me further. The people who truly love me can handle my complexity."
Guilt says: "They're trying to help by being excited and I'm throwing it back in their faces. I'm ungrateful."
Reality check: "I can appreciate their intentions whilst still needing different support than what they're offering. Gratitude doesn't mean I have to accept help that hurts. I can say 'I know you mean well, but this isn't helpful for me right now.'"
Strategy 7: Find someone who gets it
Sometimes you just need one person in your corner who understands that their certainty isn't helpful. This might be:
A partner who can run interference with family
A friend who's been through loss
A therapist who specialises in pregnancy after loss
An online support group
Someone you can text: "MIL won't stop talking about baby's first Christmas and I'm 18 weeks and having panic attacks. Help."
Someone who responds: "That sounds brutal. You don't have to match her energy. Do you want me to call you in 10 minutes so you have an excuse to end the conversation?"
If family dynamics around your pregnancy are affecting your mental health, therapy can provide a safe space to process these complex emotions. As a perinatal CBT therapist, I work with women to develop boundary-setting skills, challenge unhelpful guilt, and manage the anxiety that comes when others' certainty triggers your fear. Learn more about how I can support you or book a discovery call to discuss your specific situation.
📌 Key Takeaways: When Family's Certainty Triggers Your Fear
Remember:
Their certainty doesn't obligate you to match it
Your family's emotional regulation is their responsibility, not yours
You can appreciate their intentions whilst needing different support
Boundaries protect your mental health—they're not mean or ungrateful
One person who truly gets it is worth more than ten who try to fix you
Most helpful strategy: Set explicit boundaries about pregnancy talk when you first tell them, not after you're already overwhelmed.
Part 3: When Grief Lives Alongside Your Pregnancy
Carrying Two Babies in Your Heart
Here's the truth nobody tells you: being pregnant again doesn't erase your grief for the baby you lost.
In fact, pregnancy after loss can intensify grief because you're constantly reminded of what should have been.
It's December. You're growing a baby. But you're also counting: my first baby would be six months old now. Would be starting solid foods. Would be wearing that ridiculous Christmas jumper Granny bought.
Or: my baby was due this Christmas. I should be heavily pregnant right now, not trying again. This should be my first, not my second pregnancy.
Or: if I hadn't lost that baby, I wouldn't be pregnant with this one. This pregnancy exists because that one ended. How do I hold both those truths?
You watch your partner hang ornaments on the tree and wonder if they're thinking what you're thinking: last Christmas, we thought we'd have a baby by this Christmas. We were wrong.
The grief is omnipresent, complicated, and deeply personal. And pregnancy after loss adds layers:
Grief for the baby you lost. They deserved to be here. They deserved their own Christmas.
Grief for the innocence you lost. You can never have an uncomplicated pregnancy again. That's been taken from you.
Grief for the parent you thought you'd be. You thought you'd be the excited, glowing pregnant person. Instead, you're terrified and guarded.
Guilt about grieving whilst pregnant. Shouldn't you just be grateful? Shouldn't this pregnancy fix everything?
The Myth That a New Pregnancy "Replaces" Your Loss
Let me say this clearly: this baby is not a replacement for the baby you lost.
They're not here to make everything okay again. They're not here to ease your grief or prove that your loss wasn't in vain. They're a whole different person, and your baby who died deserves to be remembered separately.
But our culture doesn't really understand this. People say things like:
"At least you got pregnant again!"
"This baby is your rainbow after the storm!"
"This is your happy ending!"
And you nod because you don't have the energy to explain that you're carrying two realities simultaneously: grief for one baby, desperate hope for another. That you can love this baby and still miss the one before. That this pregnancy existing doesn't diminish your loss.
Research by bereavement experts consistently shows that grief doesn't follow a linear timeline. You don't "get over" losing a child—you learn to carry the grief alongside continuing life. And when that continuing life includes another pregnancy, the emotions become impossibly tangled.
The Fear That You're "Betraying" Your Baby Who Died
Some of my clients describe a painful guilt: being pregnant again feels like moving on from their first baby. Like they're supposed to forget. Like being excited about this pregnancy (if they can access excitement at all) means they didn't love the one they lost enough.
One client told me: "I look at the scan photo of this baby and feel like I'm cheating on my first baby. Like I should still be grieving them, not moving forward."
This is grief trying to protect your bond with your baby who died. Your brain fears that if you love this new baby, you'll somehow love the first one less. That they'll be forgotten.
But loving this baby doesn't diminish your love for the one who died. Hearts expand. Grief and hope can coexist. You're not betraying anyone by continuing to live, by hoping, by having another baby.
Your baby who died will always be part of your story. This new baby doesn't erase them—they add another chapter.
Anniversary Dates and Milestone Triggers During the Holidays
December is particularly brutal for anniversary dates. You might be facing:
The date you found out you were pregnant last time
The date you miscarried
What would have been your due date
Your baby's due date if they were stillborn
Every Christmas decoration, every "This time last year..." reflection, every family photo where your baby should be but isn't—these are wounds reopening.
And if you're pregnant again, you're experiencing these anniversary triggers whilst also trying to protect this pregnancy. You're grieving whilst growing. Remembering whilst trying not to imagine this ending the same way.
One client told me: "I had a miscarriage on December 18th last year. Now I'm 22 weeks pregnant and December 18th is coming up again and I don't know how to hold both things—remembering my first baby and protecting my pregnancy with this one."
Practical Strategies for Holding Grief and Hope Together
Strategy 1: Create deliberate space to honour your baby who died
Don't let the holiday rush push your grief aside. Create intentional time and space to remember:
Light a candle for your baby who died on their anniversary date
Hang a special ornament on the tree with their name
Buy yourself flowers in their memory
Write them a letter
Visit a meaningful place if you have one
You're allowed to acknowledge that your first baby should be here for Christmas too. You're allowed to grieve that openly, even whilst pregnant.
Strategy 2: Talk to both babies
Some women find it helpful to speak to both babies—the one they lost and the one they're carrying.
"I miss you. I will always carry you with me. And I'm so scared about your sibling. I want them so desperately but I'm terrified to lose again."
This isn't morbid or unhealthy. It's integrating your full experience. Your grief and your hope both deserve space.
Strategy 3: Separate your babies in your mind and heart
This baby is not your first baby reincarnated. They're a different person. Giving them separate identities can help:
Use different names for them in your mind (even if you haven't shared names with anyone else)
Recognise this baby's movements as theirs, not a repetition
Allow this pregnancy to have its own story, not just a continuation of your loss story
Strategy 4: Challenge "either/or" thinking
Grief brain often presents false choices:
"Either I grieve my first baby OR I hope for this one."
"Either I remember them OR I move forward."
"Either I'm happy about this pregnancy OR I honour my loss."
Reality is "both/and":
I can grieve my first baby AND hope for this one.
I can remember them AND move forward.
I can experience moments of joy about this pregnancy AND honour my loss.
When you catch yourself in either/or thinking, challenge it: "What if both things can be true?"
Strategy 5: Build in "grief time" so it doesn't overwhelm everything
Rather than trying to push grief down (which never works), schedule specific time for it:
15 minutes each evening to journal about your feelings
A weekly "remembering" ritual for your baby who died
Permission to cry in the shower without feeling guilty
When grief shows up at inconvenient times (which it will), you can gently tell yourself: "I'll give this the attention it deserves during my grief time later. Right now, I need to focus on [whatever you're doing]."
This isn't suppression—it's creating a container for overwhelming emotions so they don't derail your entire day.
Strategy 6: Communicate your needs around remembering
If you want family to acknowledge your baby who died during Christmas celebrations, tell them explicitly:
"I need us to light a candle for [baby's name] before dinner. They're part of our family story and I don't want them forgotten just because I'm pregnant again."
If you need them NOT to mention your loss because it's too painful right now, that's valid too:
"I know [baby's name] will be in our thoughts, but I need us not to talk about my loss directly today. I'm managing a lot emotionally and I need this gathering to stay present-focused."
Strategy 7: Accept that some days you'll cope and some days you won't
Grief isn't linear. One day you might feel almost okay. The next day you're sobbing in the Tesco car park because you saw a mum with a baby who'd be the same age as yours.
One scan you might feel hopeful. The next, you're convinced there'll be no heartbeat.
This isn't you failing. This is normal grief and trauma response. Stop expecting yourself to "manage" it perfectly or progress neatly through stages.
Some days you'll hold both grief and hope gracefully. Some days it'll feel like drowning. Both are okay.
Strategy 8: Consider whether therapy might help
If you're finding grief is overwhelming your daily functioning, or if the anxiety about this pregnancy is preventing you from bonding at all, trauma-informed therapy can help.
Cognitive Behavioural Therapy (CBT) is particularly effective for the anxiety that accompanies pregnancy after loss. Trauma-informed therapy approaches can help you work through the traumatic aspects of your previous loss so that whilst you'll always remember and grieve your baby, the trauma doesn't completely overwhelm your present experience. I work specifically with women navigating pregnancy after loss because this is such a specialised area. You need someone who understands that "just think positive!" isn't helpful. Someone who won't rush you to "move on." Someone who can hold space for the terrifying complexity of what you're living through.
📌 Key Takeaways: Holding Grief and Hope Together
Remember:
This baby is not a replacement for the baby you lost
Loving this baby doesn't diminish your love for your first
Grief and hope can coexist—you don't have to choose
Your baby who died deserves to be remembered, even as you grow their sibling
Some days you'll cope gracefully; some days you'll drown—both are normal
Most helpful strategy: Create deliberate rituals to honour your baby who died whilst being pregnant, so you're actively holding both realities rather than pushing one away.
A Practical Action Plan for Getting Through December
🎄 Quick December Survival Guide (For Skimmers)
Before family gatherings:
Decide what you're comfortable sharing (you don't owe anyone your story)
Write down your boundary scripts and practise saying them
Identify one "safe person" who can run interference
Plan your exit strategy (drive separately, have an excuse ready)
During gatherings:
Check in with your body every 30 minutes
Use the bathroom as a refuge when overwhelmed
Give yourself permission to leave early
Limit/avoid alcohol (intensifies anxiety)
For self-care:
Prioritise sleep (anxiety is worse when exhausted)
Move your body gently (even 10-minute walks help)
Schedule daily "grief time" (15-20 minutes)
Create a coping kit (comfort items for overwhelming moments)
If you need professional support: Book a discovery call
Let's bring this together with concrete steps for surviving the holidays whilst pregnant after loss or grieving after loss:
Week-by-Week December Plan:
Early December (Week 1-2):
Decide on your announcement boundaries. Write down:
Who absolutely needs to know you're pregnant (if anyone)?
Who can wait?
What's your script if someone asks directly?
Set expectations with people who already know. Send a text or have a conversation: "I need you to know I'm really struggling with excitement and certainty right now. Please don't make plans or talk about the future. Please don't ask how I'm feeling about the pregnancy. What I need is just... quiet support."
Identify your safe people for the month. Who can you call at 2am? Who understands your fear? Make a list.
Plan your grief rituals. If there are anniversary dates in December, decide now how you want to honour them. Don't wait until you're in crisis.
Mid-December (Week 3-4 - Holiday Peak):
Limit social obligations ruthlessly. You do not have to attend every party, gathering, or event. Choose 2-3 that matter most. Decline the rest without guilt.
Prepare your exit strategies. For events you do attend:
Drive separately so you can leave when needed
Have a "I'm not feeling well" excuse ready
Identify your safe person at each gathering who can run interference
Protect yourself from triggering conversations:
If someone asks about the pregnancy with too much excitement: "I'm taking it one day at a time."
If someone wants to plan: "I'm not in a headspace for planning. Let's focus on right now."
If someone says "Don't worry, it'll be fine": "I need you to be able to sit with my uncertainty, not fix it."
Schedule grief time daily. Even just 10 minutes to journal, cry, or sit with your feelings prevents emotional overwhelm.
Post-Christmas (Week 5):
Assess how you're doing. Physically and emotionally. Do you need to reach out for additional support?
Release guilt about how you showed up. You survived December whilst pregnant after loss or whilst grieving. That's an achievement. You don't have to have done it "perfectly."
Plan for New Year's mindfully. The "new year, new start" energy can be painful when you're still grieving or terrified. Give yourself permission to opt out of forced optimism.
Daily Self-Care When Anxiety and Grief Feel Overwhelming:
Morning:
10 minutes of grounding before you check your phone (deep breathing, gentle stretching, a cup of tea in silence)
One realistic goal for the day (not "get through the day without crying"—that's not realistic. Maybe "attend the appointment" or "eat three meals")
During the Day:
Check in with your body every few hours: "How am I feeling right now? What do I need?"
Use 5-4-3-2-1 grounding if anxiety spikes (5 things you see, 4 you can touch, 3 you hear, 2 you smell, 1 you taste)
Give yourself permission to step away from overwhelming situations
Evening:
Process the day somehow: journaling, talking to your partner, voice notes to yourself
Grief time if you need it—let yourself cry, rage, or just sit with sadness
Something small that feels like care: a bath, your favourite show, early bed
Remember:
You don't have to answer your phone
You can leave social media whenever
You can say no to anyone, any time
You can change your mind about what you need
You can ask for help
Feeling overwhelmed by all of this? Sometimes having strategies isn't enough when the anxiety and grief are this intense. I offer online perinatal CBT therapy throughout the UK, specialising in pregnancy after loss. Together, we can work through the fear, process your grief, and help you navigate this impossibly difficult time. Book a free discovery call to talk about how I can support you.
When You Need More Than Self-Help Can Provide
All of these strategies are evidence-based and genuinely helpful. But sometimes, the grief, anxiety, or trauma is too big to manage alone.
You might benefit from specialist perinatal therapy if you're experiencing:
Panic attacks or anxiety that interferes with daily functioning
Inability to sleep or eat consistently
Depression lasting more than two weeks
Intrusive thoughts about your loss that you can't control
Complete emotional detachment from your pregnancy
Avoiding all pregnancy-related medical care because of fear
Thoughts of harming yourself or not wanting to be here
As a perinatal CBT therapist specialising in pregnancy after loss, I work specifically with women navigating the complex intersection of grief, trauma, and hope. The research is clear: early intervention for anxiety and depression during pregnancy after loss improves outcomes not just for your mental health, but for your pregnancy and your future relationship with your baby.
Cognitive Behavioural Therapy is particularly effective for managing the catastrophic thinking and hypervigilance that often accompanies pregnancy after loss. Trauma-informed approaches can help you process your previous loss so that whilst you'll always remember and grieve your baby, the traumatic aspects don't completely overwhelm your present experience.
You don't have to white-knuckle your way through this alone.
Book a free 15-minute discovery call now to discuss how therapy can support you through pregnancy after loss. Or learn more about my approach to perinatal therapy here.
Final Thoughts: You're Not Broken, You're Wounded and Healing
If there's one thing I want you to take from this article, it's this: You are not broken. You are not defective. You are not being dramatic or difficult or ungrateful.
You're a person who's experienced profound loss—one of the most painful things a human can endure. And now you're navigating either another pregnancy or the attempt to conceive again, and that's triggering every protective mechanism your nervous system developed after that loss.
The holidays amplify all of it because they demand joy, certainty, and social engagement at a time when you might need quietness, permission to grieve, and understanding.
Research shows that up to 64% of women experience anxiety or depression even two years after a pregnancy loss, and the rates are even higher in subsequent pregnancies. You're not alone in this—though I know it feels incredibly isolating.
What you're experiencing makes sense. Your fear makes sense. Your inability to match everyone else's excitement makes sense. Your need to stay quiet and protect yourself makes sense. Your grief living alongside your hope makes sense. All of it makes sense.
And whilst I can't promise you that this pregnancy will have a different outcome (I wish I could, desperately), I can promise you this: you are far stronger than you think. You're surviving something that would break most people. And whether you're able to announce your pregnancy or not, whether you can access joy or not, whether family understand or not—you're doing the most important thing, which is putting one foot in front of the other, day by day, scan by scan.
Be gentle with yourself this December. You're carrying more than anyone can see.
Ready to Get Support?
If you're pregnant after loss and struggling with anxiety, family pressure, or grief this December, I'm here to help.
I specialise in perinatal CBT therapy for women experiencing pregnancy after loss, offering online sessions throughout the UK and worldwide from my base in Leicestershire.
In our work together, we'll:
Develop practical CBT strategies to manage pregnancy anxiety
Process your grief for the baby you lost using trauma-informed approaches
Build boundary-setting skills for difficult family dynamics
Challenge the catastrophic thinking that keeps you paralysed
Help you hold hope and fear together, rather than choosing between them
Book your free 15-minute discovery call here – let's talk about whether we're a good fit and how I can support you.
Or learn more about my approach to pregnancy after loss therapy.
You don't have to navigate this alone.
Aleksandra Balazy-Knas specialises in perinatal CBT therapy for women experiencing pregnancy after loss, offering online therapy throughout the UK and internationally from her base in Leicestershire. She combines evidence-based cognitive behavioural approaches with trauma-informed care to support women through one of the most psychologically challenging experiences: hoping for a baby whilst grieving the one(s) lost.
Resources and Support:
UK-Specific:
Tommy's Pregnancy Line: 0800 014 7800 (Mon-Fri 9am-5pm) - Free support from specialist midwives
The Miscarriage Association: Helpline 01924 200 799, Online support groups, Pregnancy after loss resources
Sands (Stillbirth and neonatal death charity): Helpline 0808 164 3332
NHS Mental Health Support: Contact your GP to discuss perinatal mental health referrals
International Resources:
Pregnancy After Loss Support (PALS): Online community and resources (US-based but global community)
Return to Zero: HOPE: Virtual support groups for pregnancy loss and pregnancy after loss
PANDAS Foundation: Perinatal mental health support
Research References:
Côté-Arsenault, D. (2003). The influence of perinatal loss on anxiety in multigravidas. Journal of Obstetric, Gynecologic, & Neonatal Nursing, 32(5), 623-629.
Nynas, J., Narang, P., Kolikonda, M. K., & Lippmann, S. (2015). Depression and anxiety following early pregnancy loss: Recommendations for primary care providers. Primary Care Companion for CNS Disorders, 17(1).
Muza-Moons, M. M. (2013). Antecedents and processes of self-protection during pregnancy following perinatal loss. University of Toronto.
O'Leary, J., & Thorwick, C. (2006). Fathers' perspectives during pregnancy, postperinatal loss. Journal of Obstetric, Gynecologic, & Neonatal Nursing, 35(1), 78-86.
Robertson Blackmore, E., et al. (2011). Psychiatric symptoms following miscarriage: Associations with ultrasound scan features. Journal of Psychosomatic Obstetrics & Gynecology, 32(2), 61-67.
Hi, I’m Aleksandra
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