We’re Glad You Found Us.
Hi, I’m Raina Wadhawan.
I am a licensed psychotherapist practicing in both Nashville and New York, with a specialization in women’s health and trauma. My journey as a therapist and as someone who has experienced the heartbreak of a miscarriage at 9 weeks has shaped my understanding of grief in ways I never anticipated.
Despite my training and experience in mental health, nothing could have prepared me for the emotional toll of pregnancy loss. The heartbreak was raw and disorienting. I felt sadness, anger, confusion, and shame—all at once. And even though I understood these emotions clinically, I was unprepared for the intensity of isolation that came with them. I remember feeling lost and powerless, reaching for resources and support, only to find that there was a noticeable gap especially in care and guidance focused specifically on miscarriage recovery.
This experience changed me. It revealed how silent and invisible miscarriage can feel, even in a world that talks more and more about mental health. I realized how difficult it is for loved ones, no matter how well-intentioned, to truly understand the emotional weight of this kind of loss. The grief is often quiet and misunderstood —and yet it is so real.
This personal loss has profoundly shaped my work. It has fueled a passion within me to create safe, compassionate spaces for those navigating miscarriage and reproductive grief. My hope is to help others feel less alone, to normalize the conversation around miscarriage, and to provide meaningful, trauma-informed care during a time that can feel overwhelmingly isolating.
Hi, I’m Melanie Cooke.
I work as a licensed IFS psychotherapist based in New York specializing in shame, conflict, and emotions around money. I found out that I was pregnant for the first time in early spring of 2024 and, heartbreakingly, miscarried at six weeks. Although my pregnancy experience was short-lived, it has been long-lasting in its intensity and impact. I felt — and feel — forever changed by it. My feelings around the loss have evolved and morphed over time — sometimes quiet, other times loud and all-consuming — but it has found a resting place inside of me and I know it’s a companion I’ll carry forever. You can never fully prepare for a loss, but what I really didn’t anticipate was the level of fear, shame, and anger that I harbored — towards other people’s ‘easier’ pregnancy experiences, towards well-intentioned loved ones who missed the mark by sharing what they thought was ‘support’ (but was actually dismissive and alienating), and towards my own body. Despite my training and experience as a therapist, I felt unanchored and didn’t know where to turn. The only true comfort I felt was in talking to others who had experienced miscarriage themselves — it felt like they were the only ones who fully understood what this feels like and means. The loss never goes away — and I don’t think that it ever should be erased — but I’ve found (and continue to find) peace in healing my relationship with my body.
I think about that me a lot — her innocent excitement and eagerness about the journey of motherhood, her confusion and devastation, her struggle to feel like her ‘old’ self again, and her (continued) realizations that healing is about growing into a different version of me. Raina and I sought solace in each other, and when she reached out to me with this idea of creating a miscarriage resource page, it felt both needed and right. This gives a purpose to our grief — we hope you find solace and meaning here too.