A Mother's Day Devastation in London
On Mother's Day, Anastasia Shubareva-Epshtein found herself in a private ultrasound clinic in London, facing one of life's most heartbreaking moments. A smiling pregnant woman in the waiting room asked her, "So, when is your baby due?" It was an innocent question, but for Anastasia, it was a painful reminder of why she was there.
The Waiting Room Agony
"She looked radiant, gently stroking her perfectly round bump," Anastasia recalls. "Clearly excited to catch a glimpse of her baby on Mother's Day, of all days. But I wasn't there to celebrate a pregnancy. I was there to confirm a miscarriage."
Fortunately, her husband was with her, squeezing her hand. All she could reply was that she wasn't sure, pretending to attend to something urgent on her phone. The waiting room was filled with glowing expectant mothers, framed baby scan photos on the walls, while sharp cramps twisted through her stomach.
The Statistical Reality
One statistic kept circling in her mind: one in four pregnancies end in loss. There were four women in that waiting room. She was that one. A week earlier, she'd had her first ultrasound where there was a heartbeat, but the obstetrician had expressed concern about the small size of the gestational sac.
When bleeding and cramping began, the only place that could see them was the last place on earth she wanted to be. "I already knew what was happening," she says.
The Journey to Pregnancy
Anastasia had always imagined becoming a mother. With two much younger brothers, caring for babies never scared her. When she and her husband started trying for a baby, she assumed it would happen quickly. They talked about baby names and pictured life with a little one.
But month after month, the tests were negative. Slowly, excitement turned into worry. When she finally held a positive test after almost a year, she felt overwhelming relief. "I will forever cherish the moment my husband and I found out and existed in that pure bubble of bliss together," she shares.
The Confirmation and Aftermath
That joy shattered on Mother's Day when she was about eight weeks along. The ultrasound technician quickly confirmed what she already suspected: there was no heartbeat. "I remember her awkwardly explaining the situation, clearly unsure how to handle it," Anastasia says.
She was asked to move into another room until she could stop crying so "I would not upset" the pregnant women still waiting outside. No one offered guidance about what would happen next, how long the bleeding might last, or where she could find support. She was simply told to contact her GP and take paracetamol for the pain.
The Turning Point
"My husband was in autopilot mode, paying for the scan at reception and trying to get us out of there as quickly as possible," she recalls. Looking back, and after connecting with many other women who experienced similar situations and endured unprofessional treatment, she realized how common this experience was.
"We are faced with devastating news in busy maternity wards, with little to no guidance, and in my case, made to feel like an inconvenience," she explains. "I walked out feeling shattered, but also angry. The bluntness hurt almost as much as the loss itself."
Pregnancy After Loss
That moment became a turning point. Six months later, after IVF, she became pregnant with their rainbow baby. But pregnancy after loss was nothing like the glowing image from magazines or most pregnancy apps.
"I didn't care if my baby was the size of a banana – all I could think about was whether I would see blood each time I went to the bathroom," she admits. "Instead of carefree excitement about our upcoming arrival, all I felt was fear."
Her husband also did not show the same carefree excitement they experienced the first time. He was happy, of course, but also much more cautious.
Creating Support Through Carea
Going through this experience opened her eyes to how little support exists for women navigating miscarriage and pregnancy after loss. So, in the middle of IVF, she left her stable job in finance to start Carea, a platform designed to support women through fertility, pregnancy and postpartum without triggers or unrealistic expectations.
Carea is designed to support women's physical, mental and emotional health before, during and after pregnancy and birth. It offers practical tools that help women feel informed, supported and less alone, and provides a community for women and families.
Moving Forward With Hope
This Mother's Day, Anastasia is the mum of a beautiful 22-month-old boy, and she is currently 16 weeks pregnant again. "I feel incredibly grateful," she says. "But this date will always carry complicated emotions."
Their angel baby feels very present in their lives. She wears a bracelet with what would have been the baby's birthstone, and her son's room is full of rainbows. Last Mother's Day they even saw a huge rainbow while out on a walk.
A Call for Understanding
"Today should be a space where every journey is acknowledged, including the women longing to become mothers, the women raising children and the women grieving the babies they lost," she emphasizes. "Pregnancy loss is not the opposite of pregnancy. In many ways, it is simply a heartbreaking form of postpartum."
Instead of giving presents, she thinks we should encourage women to share their stories, whether they had a happy ending or not. Rather than coldly being told to "not upset" other pregnant women or sent off with minimal support, women need information about what is happening in their bodies and the choices they may face.
"Someone willing to hold space for the full weight of our emotions, whether that's through professional counselling or support groups, can make a world of difference," she says.
As she looks forward to their second baby, due this August, she hopes that the world her children grow up in becomes more understanding of motherhood and gives them the help she never got.
