Miscarriage is a deeply personal and complex experience, one that affects many women in ways that extend far beyond the loss of a pregnancy. It carries emotional, physical, and psychological impacts that often linger quietly, unseen by others

While we’re beginning to recognise and validate the significance of this experience, there’s still—dare I say—contention around the language we use to describe it.

This isn’t a new issue. Historically, medical and research communities have used terms like habitual abortion, foetal wastage, premature expulsion of the ovum, and total pregnancy wastage to describe what we now call miscarriage. These phrases, once considered standard, went largely unquestioned until the 1980s. Their clinical detachment often failed to reflect the lived reality of loss.

Using the word miscarriage here is something I’ve sat with for a long time. Personally, I lean toward shifting our collective language to terms like reproductive loss or reproductive trauma—words that feel more expansive, more accurate, and less burdened by implication. The prefix “mis-” in miscarriage suggests something done incorrectly or poorly. That implication does not belong here.

And yet, miscarriage remains the most widely recognised term. It’s the word most people search for, speak aloud, and encounter in medical settings. So, it’s the word used here—not because it’s perfect, but because it’s familiar.

Why language matters

Language is more than semantics. It’s how we honour, understand, and reflect on our experiences. It’s also a tool for systemic change, shaping research, influencing cultural narratives, and guiding the development of care, services, and resources that meet the real needs of women.

Discomfort with the word miscarriage is valid. So is the desire to name things differently. These conversations matter. They deserve space, nuance, and ongoing attention.

A note on woman-centred language

At Daisy, we’ve chosen not to remove the word women from our work. We recognise that woman-centred language can feel complicated, especially for those whose bodies or identities sit outside conventional definitions. Being inclusive doesn’t mean erasing sexed language, it means making room for both sexed and non-gendered language within the broader conversation around miscarriage and reproductive trauma.

Daisy is unapologetically woman centred. This is a political stance, especially in a post-Roe world where reproductive autonomy is under constant threat. We believe that women’s reproductive health is non-negotiable. That belief is foundational.

This doesn’t mean we are intentionally othering those who live outside the experience of being a woman with a female body in a patriarchal world. It means we see womanhood—and the cultural, physical, and emotional realities that come with it—as worthy of its own language, its own space, and its own recognition.

Shared values, diverse voices

Daisy is one of many passionate, competent spaces working in the field of reproductive trauma. Each of us brings our own values, language, and approach. What unites us is a shared commitment to care, advocacy, and change.

If you’ve ever felt unseen by the language used around miscarriage, you’re not alone. These conversations are evolving.