Why We Need Paid Leave After Miscarriage in the U.S.

The U.S. doesn’t have policies in place to support parents who experience the grief of a pregnancy loss. Here’s why it’s important to change that.

Last week, New Zealand’s parliament unanimously approved legislation that gives couples who suffer a miscarriage or stillbirth three days of paid leave. In joining the small ranks of countries that offer miscarriage bereavement leave, such as India and the Philippines, and in turn helping to pave the way for others to follow suit, the island country was lauded. Given the COVID-19 pandemic’s dramatic impact on maternal health—according to a study published Wednesday, there has been a global increase in stillbirths, maternal mortality, and maternal depression—New Zealand’s groundbreaking law has sparked a global conversation. Stateside, many are wondering: Why doesn’t the U.S., one of the most developed countries in the world, have policies in place to support parents who experience a pregnancy loss?

According to the nonprofit maternal- and infant-health organization March of Dimes, 10 to 15% of pregnancies end in miscarriage, with most pregnancy loss happening in the first trimester, before the 12th week of pregnancy. “Miscarriage is a traumatic and life-altering experience for women and families,” says Amanda Kallen, M.D., a reproductive endocrinologist with Yale Fertility Center’s Recurrent Pregnancy Loss Program. “What compounds the sense of loss and grief is the fact that women still face enormous stigma and shame when they suffer a pregnancy loss and are often not encouraged to talk about their experience and loss. This can lead to isolation and disconnection at a time when women need more support than ever.” In treating patients, Kallen is able to draw from her own experience not just in navigating the initial physical and mental hurdles of miscarrying but also the psychosocial implications—particularly as they pertain to the workplace. After the birth of her son, Kallen went on to experience two pregnancy losses while balancing a job and found workplace support to fall short in both instances.

“When my mother died, I was able to grieve publicly, receive flowers, cards, and well-wishes from friends and colleagues, and take time off to handle her funeral and cope,” explains Kallen. “In contrast, when I lost my first pregnancy, a half day off during the most painful part of the miscarriage was all I could manage because I had a busy clinical schedule that week. My second miscarriage happened at work, and I walked right back to my office after the loss because time off at that point felt impossible. And this is speaking from a position of privilege as someone who has a steady, reliable job and was never in fear of losing it—many women don’t have that luxury.”

In this respect, another essential part of the pregnancy-loss conversation is health equity, acknowledging the disparities affecting Black, Indigenous, and people of color individuals and their need for workplace protections. Providing paid leave after miscarriage, as well as other reproductive outcomes, is critical, emphasizes Nan Strauss, managing director of policy, advocacy, and grant making for nonprofit Every Mother Counts.  “Women of color, and Black women, in particular, are more likely to be the sole or primary providers for their families and are also disproportionately likely to be working in lower-wage jobs that do not currently provide paid leave time,” explains Strauss. “Ensuring that all families have protections—like guaranteed paid leave following childbirth, paid bereavement leave following miscarriage, and other protections throughout the reproductive lifespan—is an issue of racial and birth equity.”

This story originally appeared on: Vogue - Author:Lauren Valenti