your great life

Ed Ball Launches a Career Advice Pilot Scheme for UK Primary Schools

Yes, You Read Correctly. Seven to Eleven Year Olds are to Receive Career Advice as Part of the Curriculum for Key Stage Two.

Do seven year olds really need career advice?  That question, in a Twitter post , alerted me to an article about Schools Secretary Ed Ball’s plan to launch a new pilot scheme for career-related learning in primary schools.  The scheme would make university life, the working world and access to a mentor available to young students, all designed to get them thinking about their future.  A year ago, I would probably have thought that this idea was a case of too much, too soon.  However, it really got me thinking about my children and all of today’s children, the pressures they will face when they emerge from school and how the cumulative effect of career-related learning over a period of ten years could benefit them.

I do think that childhood has been unfortunately shortened by constant exposure to adult concerns through the media.  I do want my children to play, dream, run around and stay somewhat innocent as long as they can.  I don’t mean they should be sheltered and coddled; I would rather they engage in sports, have club meetings in their tree house, ride their scooters or read a book for pleasure. There is plenty of time in the future to get serious about life. However, as I get closer to having to help my daughter choose a secondary school, I have come around to the “more is more” viewpoint.  

Today’s youngest generation is different than previous ones; they are growing up in the “I want it all” information age.  They expect and are given reasons for and involvement in parental decision-making.  The cliché, “knowledge is power” has never been truer.  Primary school children are influential consumers, not only of chocolate cereals and cheese strings, but also of fashion, social media, toys, music, entertainment and films. They have high aspirations, fair enough; but they need to have a corresponding understanding of what goes into getting the lifestyle they want. Academic success is one part of the equation; knowledge, hard work, opportunity and emotional support make up the rest.

Never fear.  Under the Schools Secretary’s plan, the children won’t be asked to choose a career at such an early age.  They will be given opportunities to learn about different careers. When quite young, children may claim to want to grow up to be a doctor, fireman, pop star, race-car driver, chef or presenter on Blue Peter.  What do they actually know about any of these, except perhaps for the uniform, vehicle or the fame that goes with the job?  While a 4-year old may know merely that people work on computers, a 7-year old will know how to use a search engine like Google.  A 9-year old who is shown that with a computer, you can generate music compositions, original art, historical research, business processes and sharing of scientific and medical breakthroughs will be able to make connections between what is possible and his own ideas. If this experiential scheme is rolled out to all the primary schools in the UK, children in Key Stage Two can find out about both traditional and less obvious career paths, through:

• school assemblies
• links between universities and primary schools
• links with employers and role models for visits to schools
• careers advice, and
• access to mentors.

A guided, up-close and personal view into university programs, vocations and careers will show them what it is like to actually do the work.  Think of it as a mobile classroom. They will get to see the exciting bits, the mundane, the dangerous and the glorious.  Their expanded awareness will probably not be calculable in the short term, but over time I believe the benefits will have a positive impact.

The other aim of the pilot program is to raise children’s aspirations and self-esteem. Given any number of possibilities, ready for the choosing, children have something to work toward and dream about.  Started young, they can set off on a journey of discovery, shedding ideas and experiences as they gain new ones, sort of like throwing mixed seeds into a flower bed and once they have grown, deciding what to keep, what to weed out and what to add next.  

As an American, I probably have a cultural predisposition toward believing that people should have every opportunity to try something new, unique and stimulating to do with their life, not just once, but perhaps once every decade or two.  There are pitfalls and setbacks out there that can quash a child’s self-belief, but this program can help them maintain their resilience and find their way around obstacles, by putting live examples in front of them for a Q & A. Ed Ball’s 7 to 11 scheme could encourage and support a child's ability to discover, stretch and break through barriers. The courage to reach for tantalizing possibilities may only arise if we tell children that they can do it and then teach them how.

I welcome educational experiences operating "outside the box."  I’m ever an optimist. End-of-year assemblies that deliver valuable information, inspiration and support directly to the children have got to be a better use of their time than spending the last week of summer term cleaning their classrooms and watching DVDs.  The impact could be far-reaching. That’s what I want for my children.

I Always Loved Show and Tell

A little light reading for you. I am doing a Show and Tell this morning. Three weeks later, I am still so proud and amused by my "gone, but not forgotten" props for Pip's Egyptian themed birthday party, that I have to show it off.

I'm a pretty good cook, but not really a cake baker. I rented 3 tins for 24 hours and got busy.  Also, my big Garland range is out of commission, so I used something not much bigger than a toaster oven to bake in.  By tripling my recipe, I made enough batter to fill 5 cake tins and 6 cupcakes. Thank Gd for my KitchenAid mixer.  Not only that, but each of the 3 largest cakes fell through in the middle, making the whole construction weak. I cut a few cupcakes horizontally, then plugged the holes in the cakes with them and frosted over them with buttercream.
It was Brian's idea to make a sarcophogus out of refrigerator boxes, so I got busy making King Tut, followed by Nefertiti. On the day, we had 35 children and about a dozen parents out in the garden for a few hours, doing a tug of war, obstacle course and wrap the mummy in toilet paper games. My house could never have fit that many children, so we were very glad and lucky to get mild weather that day. It was lots of fun. Brian, the kids and I  really rejoice in these homemade parties. It gets the 4 of us working on a project together, laughing ALOT and proud of our achievements. I don't think children care that it doesn't look professional, as long as they are having fun and get cake.  At least, that's what we tell ourselves.    

I sent soooo much Pyramid Cake home with friends to save us from a buttercream sugar-high and a few thousand calories. Gone, but not forgotten.  By the way, Pip took one bite and returned it to me. He liked the Pyramid, but doesn't much like frosting.

Can We Lighten Up a Little about Infertility?

Ask anyone in my family. I am renowned to be the one with no sense of humour. As an adolescent, I guess I was slow on the uptake, so I kept a passive expression while I worked a joke out in my mind. Either my mother or father, aunt or uncle used the fact, that I wasn't laughing along with everyone else, to embarrass me. Once I had become the butt of the joke, I became hurt, insulted and cranky, playing right into their hands; more jokes at my expense. I'm older, quicker and more at ease with myself these days. But, don't tell my family PLEASE. Keeping up my image is the best way to avoid receiving the endless stream of jokes that are circulated via Group Email.

Meanwhile, I was thinking today, while reading Tweets and blog posts, that perhaps the infertile need a few jokes, specific to their situation, sent their way.  Ouch! I can hear some screeching from people who will think that this is completely inappropriate for such a fundamental life crisis.  Aw, c'mon. Lighten up a little.  I can see that this may be one of those situations in which no one else can make up a joke about infertility, except for the infertile and their nearest and dearest.   

Infertility is an extremely serious subject; one that causes untold pain, emotional and sometimes physical, to many people. It complicates and devastates people. It disappoints and disrupts plans. That's where humour comes in. However, infertility is so widespread that it's practically become a cliche now, touching millions of people worldwide and constantly in the media. I think it may have taken over from eating disorders as the "explanation" for celebrities who have been out of the limelight for a while and need a PR boost.  No one can live life miserably all the time, regardless of how serious the issue. I'm sure you have heard and even laughed at Osama Bin Laden jokes, as well as jokes about illness, death, adultery, obesity and financial collapse.

We all need to maintain perspective in order to live a successful, balanced and rewarding life. You gain perspective by looking at all sides of a situation, comparing them and balancing out the pros and cons, the good and bad.  Humour helps us through dire situations.  Smiling and laughing are proven to be therapeutic; they are infectious and relieve stress. So, perhaps we should trot some jokes out.

I'm not a comedienne, so I won't start with a joke I have made up myself.  However, I can see the potential fun in jokes about ridiculous infertility-related situations we have all found ourselves in at one time or another during fertility treatment.  I invite you all to submit one you have created or overheard, about anything fertility-related, perhaps on one of these topics:

• awkward, or even completely insensitive comments received about your infertility
• the pin cushion that is your bottom during IVF and other hormonal treatments
• playing embryo-roulette in the lab
• date and time-stamped sex
• a fertility patient that insists on giving you TMI (too much information)
• the stoppage of time between implantation and that fateful phone call from the clinic
• both sides of (potential grand)parents broadcasting each step of your fertility treatment among all their friends as well as the butcher, greengrocer and librarian
• Psychosis induced by fertility meds

We can all use an excuse to laugh, can't we?

I'm going to start us off with a joke I found on www.fertilityplus.org:

Why did the RE cross the road?
Because there was an affluent, infertile woman in her 30s on the other side.

See? That didn't hurt a bit. Tell me you didn't laugh.

Balloon Boy Falcon is a Victim of the Ultimate Stage-Mother and Father

It's probably guaranteed that the story of "Balloon Boy" Falcon will be made into a Hollywood script for a movie.  It has all the required elements: adorable child with memorable name, silver balloon that resembles a flying saucer, danger, seemingly terrified parents, a rush of rescue operations and in the end, the uncovering of an outrageous plot.  What's wrong with that picture? The child's parents created the entire scenario, except for that last bit. Apparently, they thought they would get away with it.  Now, they are possibly headed for Court on felony charges. 

Using their children to promote their own marketing agenda is despicable enough; but only on the surface is it merely the selfish act of stage-parenting. Countless parents have pushed their children toward the ultimate goal of fame, as athletes, Pop stars, academic and art notoriety and more.  But, that's just skimming the surface.  These parents captured international attention, sympathy and acclaim, living their media heaven vicariously through Falcon's supposedly accidental adventure.

Mayumi Heene, Falcon's mother, has apparently admitted that she and her husband invented the entire incident and coached their children to play along and lie when questioned.  It was cruel.  The little boy, who was caught up in his parents' lies, broke down in tears when confronted with the media attention. He looked like a deer trapped in the headlights under the glare of flashing cameras. He looked tired, scared and tearful.

Falcon himself, should not to be grouped with his parents in what is now the wave of disgust that is sweeping both America and the rest of the world over this now-unfolding story. He is a young child, victim himself of his superficial, conniving, and completely irresponsible parenting.  He and his siblings are now seeing how they were manipulated by their parents' lies.  Their parents will almost certainly be prosecuted for raising a false alarm and misdirection of rescue services and public funds. If convicted and sent to prison, the children could be taken into care.

I am heartened by the nearly immediate suspicion, discovery and public announcement, by the authorities, of this scam.  I would like to point out that cases of truly missing, endangered children, like Madeline Mc Can and Jaycee Lee Du Gard, are rarely solved so quickly. The suspicion that Madeline's parents and Jaycee's stepfather have had to deal with these past few years is unconscionable and arose out of the failure of the police to find the kidnappers over a long period of investigation. Legitimately devastated parents will now be scrutinized more thoroughly and very possibly unfairly, because of Falcon's parents.

As a die-hard fan of the American TV program "Without a Trace," I can now give more credence to the amazingly quick wrap-up of missing persons cases. However, that's evening television that adult viewers know isn't real.  How are parents across the world explaining to their children that this other child's parent were unscrupulous and why?  My own children will have questions, and no matter what I tell them, there will be a slight tear of the cocoon maintaining, for just a little while longer, their innocent ideas about parents protecting, not using or hurting their own children.

Switching Focus From TTC to Adoption

I came across Kerri McConnell's blog Will Not Work for Baby while happily fulfilling my ICLW (International Comment Leaving Week) commitments. I am impressed with her warm, friendly writing style, her honesty and most importantly, her story. Kerri and her husband Rick have endured a 4 1/2 year, expensive and rigorous course of fertility treatment.  They are now considering adoption as the route to building their family.

What resonated with me was Kerri's presentation of their challenges, showing her and Rick to be committed to being parents, open-minded to learning, reflective and not at all resentful about their friends' queries, mutually supportive of each other and with absolutely no evidence of pessimism, bitterness or self-pity. 

I have given Kerri a page of her own on this blog (See the left-hand column). I invite you to read her thoughts and let me know if you, like me, would like to follow Kerri's path toward becoming a mother. 

ICLW ~Welcome to Your Great Life

I have really been looking forward to this month's IComLeavWe. I only tried it once before and have to admit that I couldn't keep up the pace. This month I am determined to go for it. It gives me exactly the motivation I need to pop my head up and see what is going on in the blogging world, especially in the context of fertility and creating family.

It's been interesting to see how much detail people go into in describing their journey through the battlefield of infertility.  It's all in there: names, procedures, dates, doctors, medications, etc.. That's not quite my style, probably because I have a terrible memory and tend to lose it when its about something painful.  I'll let you know what you can expect at Your Great Life.  First of all, I named my website, blog and fertility coaching practice "Your Great Life" because that is the direction in which I want myself and all of my clients, friends, family and colleagues to point.  To get anywhere and realize that you have arrived, you have to know what you want. My website looks like the life I want to lead. That is where I am aimed. 

My story?  I always knew that I wanted to be a mother.  In high school and college, my best friend and I used to pass a Baby Names book back and forth to each other. We would read the names, the countries of origin, the meanings and the famous people who have each name.  I liked the names Tess and Carina, Daniel and Liam. I decided that I wanted 4 children, 2 of whom had to be girls. I don't have a sister and fantasized about "her" all the time.  Well, life doesn't always go to plan; you know that.

I didn't get married until I was 35. For the next 7 years, wanting children was all I could think about. My husband travelled between 3 and 6 months a year for business, so in order to conceive, I followed him around the Pacific and Caribbean islands.  I had 3 gut-wrenching miscarriages in a row and paid a fortune to have every test under the sun, or so it seemed. "We don't really know why" became the most hated words I could hear. One month it was antiphospholipidwhatevers, the next my levels had normalized. Sometimes my thyroid level came back low and sometimes it didn't. I stopped listening. 

My fourth pregnancy was supervised and coddled like an egg and spoon race. I went to a medical practice that dealt with endangered pregnancies, where I was patronized because other patients were on dialysis, had cancer and/or heart defects.  My story was not unusual.  I didn't care one bit. I gave birth at 37.5 weeks to my daughter Sophie, who I also refer to as Honey here and there.  I won't downplay it.  She is the best thing that ever happened to me. 

The following 3 years were spent trying to conceive again.  Yes, I am greedy. I knew that I had been incredibly lucky already, but I wanted more. I knew, deep down inside, that I wasn't finished.  In those 3 years, I moved into the secondary infertility category.  I couldn't get pregnant, for no apparent reason.  Oh, except for one more miscarriage at about 5 weeks that wasn't even confirmed until I began experiencing the enormous hair loss I had had with each previous pregnancy.  I was seeing a specialist, trying Clomid, and fending off all those horrible comments from people who had nothing better to say than "Well, at least you have one. You should be grateful." I was grateful, but it wasn't enough. My husband and I agreed to undergo one IVF cycle as our insurance did not cover anything but the initial tests. We did, and it failed. I won't go through it. Everyone knows what it's about.

I know you will also have heard the last bit elsewhere too. Three months after the end of the IVF cycle, I became pregnant naturally. It fits all the cliches: We had "given up," determined to be a happy family of 3, though I was devastated that our daughter wouldn't have a sibling. We threw around some thoughts about adopting or fostering a child.  We never had the time to pursue it.  We conceived in a hotel room, while away on business.  We weren't anxiously trying anymore; checking ovulation patterns and wasting money on pregnancy sticks. We had stopped talking about it. I pushed the thoughts away. We had even mentally earmarked the money we wouldn't be spending on a second child for a house in France, eventually.  Well, we don't have a house in France, but we have a son, whose appearance in the world is not remarkable except for the fact that we never "tried" to have him and I was close to 43 years old when he was born.

Everything my husband and I went through to have our children was worthwhile, but only because of the result. It was extremely stressful on our marriage, trampled my self-esteem for a long time and made me miserable.  All of that has had to be built back up and we have worked really hard at it. It also changed my direction in life. I trained as a life coach, began volunteering on the Miscarriage Association Helpline, began a free, monthly Miscarriage Support Group and decided to specialize in fertility coaching. I love what I do. I hope I can continue doing it for the next few decades.  I hope you enjoy my blog. Thanks for visiting, if you have read this far, and please come back again.

A request: if you will, I have a page (see the top of the left sidebar) called "Get It Out," where I am hoping I will collect some of the things you all do when the infertility really gets on top of you. Go there and read what I and others have done when I really hated my infertility and miscarriages, and leave your own message.  Also, one of my recent posts "What Is Infertility?" asks how you characterize your infertility, giving some suggestions.  I am not saying that any of them is valid. I want to know how others see it.  Thanks, Lisa

What is Infertility?

I'm not being facetious about it.  I know that the commonly accepted, medical definition of infertility is not achieving pregnancy naturally after 1 year of trying for women under the age of 35, or 6 months in a woman 35 years and over.  What I want to know is what you think infertility is...how you characterize it. Is infertility:

• a disease
• an illness
• a medical condition
• a physiological flaw
• a malfunction
• a disability
• a hormonal problem
• a personal or religious punishment
• a state of being
• an obstacle
• a judgment that you are undeserving of parenthood
• a result of lifestyle choices
• a fluke
• a weakness
• a failure
• an identity
• a female problem
• a female and male problem
• an indication that you are not “whole”
• a sign that you are not "all woman"
• a sign that you are not "all man"
• something that could have been prevented
• a life crisis
• something you can blame on someone else (who? Your parents, God, Mother Nature…)
• payback for something you did wrong, or
• something I have not listed (please feel free to add to the list if necessary)

These are descriptions (not definitions and not my opinions, save a few) that I have read and collected over the years since my own period of infertility. Please don’t come back to me with complaints that the list is very negative; I am well aware of it.  I have yet to meet someone who characterizes infertility in positive terms. 

Some of the descriptions are much more negative than others. Some carry more emotional weight. I’m sure you know someone who makes infertility “all about them.” That’s the “Why me?” brigade.  I stood there once and I completely get it. Other descriptions seem designed to put infertility at a distance for self-protection; as a project to be dealt with in a controlled manner. Still others seek someone or something to blame.

Why do I want to know what you think?  I coach people who are dealing with infertility. I write on the subject. Thousands of women and a few men are blogging about infertility and try as I might, I can’t read them all.  Everyone sees their infertility in a unique way, based upon their life experience and influences.  The first step toward restoring their emotional wellbeing is understanding what ideas about infertility have brought them to their present state of mind. 

You will probably experience the label “infertile” differently while you are undergoing fertility tests and treatment, than if you have achieved some resolution and/or perspective, so let me know, if you will, where you’re at. I can tell you that I had emotional bungee jumps, springing back and forth between panic that I had done something to deserve this curse and calmly hoping that it was a medical condition that could possibly be treated. Now that I look back on it with the distance of six years since my son’s birth, I am more inclined to see it as a life crisis that my family and I made it through.

Please leave a comment, whether for IComLeavWe or not.

Pregnancy After Miscarriage - Self-Coaching

In the previous two posts, I offered a helping hand to your friends and family who want to show their support, but are not sure how to convey their feelings and intentions.

If you want to explore your own feelings about this pregnancy, I suggest that you buy a journal with lined paper and set it up for a self-coaching process by putting each of the categories (previous pregnancy, miscarriage, subsequent pregnancy) above at the top of separate pages, with several pages in between each, headed by the sub-categories (ex. Who am I? My values, my aspirations, what I need to be happy, my satisfaction level at the particular time, my strengths, my frustrations, my expectations, how any of this has changed, etc…)

Once you are set up, take some time to write in the journal at your own pace; whenever a flash of insight occurs, or in purposeful sessions. The writing doesn't need to be done in any particular order; just flip back and forth as you go.

Don’t worry about your language or whether you are “making sense.” This is just for you. It is not about gaining an explanation for your miscarriage; it is about understanding yourself and what you want, accepting that there are no guarantees in life and opening the door to what is to come.

This self-coaching exercise may be all you need to identify and accept, or work through, your feelings; both positive and negative. You may decide, after some time using the journal, that you would benefit from coaching, in which case these pages would be a valuable tool for getting started and useful in our sessions as well.

Returned from Miscarriage Association HQ

Real People Making a Positive Difference; Not a Call Centre

This past weekend, during National Baby Loss Awareness week, I travelled up to the Miscarriage Association's head quarters in Wakefield for my first AGM (Annual General Meeting) and Member's Day for the first time. They would probably laugh to hear it referred to as HQ; it is a plain, terraced house holding crowded offices for three (and a half) staff members who seem to do the work of ten.  At a recent M.A. Advanced Training Day in London, a few other volunteers talked about going to the AGM and I wanted to be part of the gang. That probably sounds a bit juvenile, but these women are great and I am inspired by their enthusiasm and dedication, so I decided to tag along.

The even was held in the Orangery; a beautiful, light-filled space in a walled garden, hired for the day. I took advantage of the intimate surroundings to the charity's National Director, Ruth Bender Atik, Support Worker Lisa Bruce, Editor of the quarterly newsletter Peta Harrison, several of the very committed Trustees, a few other volunteers and a handful of members.  I had feared that the business bit would be boring, however, as each person rose to speaak, my previously sketchy understanding of the M.A. changed to a much more comprehensive knowledge of the structure and history of the organization, the people behind the telephone voices, a sympathy for its financial limitations, admiration for the level of expertise in the room and feelings of synergy and pride for what we all do.  The afternoon session was devoted to the theme of stress, in which I was particularly interested, as we both work professionally as fertility coaches.

As a Helpline Volunteer and facilitator of the North London Miscarriage Support Group, you might think that I was well-informed already. However, it's only on the occasional training day that I interact with others who are as passionate about what the M.A. does, as we are spread far and wide across the U.K.  Andrea Allen, the Volunteers Manager, is my main contact and the person who ties us together. She puts endless energy into keeping in touch with us, making sure that the out-of-hours support rota is covered, giving us support and developing the training program. She ropes us into clever but embarrassing role play to keep our listening skills sharp and our attention keen.  No one wants to volunteer for a lead role in the dramatic presentations, but neither do we want to let Andrea down, so finally someone breaks down, raises a hand and it goes from there.

One of the things that this weekend confirmed for me was that this is not a high profile organization.  It does not have a sexy name that attracts a lot of attention. It is not swimming in unused public funds or closely identified with a large, cash-rich corporation.  The staff all buckle down and do what is needed, but they could use a few more people in the office.  The M.A. is what it says "on the box;" an association in its 26th year, that seeks to inform, raise awareness and give support to those who have suffered pregnancy loss.

The M.A. needs more members, private donations and sponsorship in order to flourish and continue to provide its excellent community service nationwide. Despite approximately 100 volunteers, the charity cannot be run without funds to pay staff, produce literature, promote research, liaise with the media, recruit, train and manage volunteers, and promote public awareness of the support available.  I think it needs a new, highly visible Patron or two, who can attract public attention and donations to the M.A., or one well-placed feature on the GMTV sofa. That is a challenging, but not impossible, goal.  It is perhaps, awkward to approach a celebrity who has had a miscarriage to ask for their help. That person will have had their own emotional journey and the M.A. is ever-sensitive and careful about intruding into anyone's private life.  Vulnerability due to miscarriage can last a very long time and makes no concessions to celebrity status.

The best possible scenario, in my opinion, would be if a public personality or corporate head took it upon themselves to approach the M.A. and offer their help.  If you are that person, or know someone who is, please think about contacting the National Director, office staff or volunteer to find out more about what you can do for the Miscarriage Association.

Contact: http://miscarriageassociation.org.uk

Pregnancy After Miscarriage - Supporting her Emotionally

Achieving a Deeper Level of Understanding - As a fertility coach trying to support a woman through a pregnancy after a previous miscarriage, I would go back to basics: her identity, her values, what she wants out of life, her level of satisfaction with all aspects of herself and her lifestyle, sorting out her wants from her needs, and measuring her competing interests. To each of these areas, I would ask her to reflect upon how any of them was changed by her experience of miscarriage and finally, to anticipate how they will be changed by having the child she now carries.  The progression of the coaching process reveals, layer by layer, how deeply she believes in herself, where her strength lies and how she will use it, no matter what lies ahead.  Those are the qualities that will make her a good mother and provide them both with a great life. 

Supporting Her – This process of going back to the beginning, before the trauma of the loss, can work for you as well; encouraging her to talk about her first pregnancy, this one and what makes her to want to become a mother. It is important to pay attention to her signals of being willing, ready and able to talk.  However, you can communicate a state of openness, verbally or through body language.  Looking directly into her eyes will show your emotional availability.  Not expressing any criticism about how she is acting will go a long way toward building trust.

Not sure what to say to her?  It is helpful to understand the differences between knowldege, understanding, sympathy, empathy and compassion. They can be synonymous, but there are nuances to how they are commonly used. 

• Knowledge is the fact or condition of knowing something by experience or association.
• Understanding is either, or both, a mental grasp of what is, or an agreement of opinion or feeling.
• Sympathy is similar, but implies slightly more emotion as its Latin root is pathos. I think most people use it to suggest 'feeling sorry for someone else's distress.'
• Empathy is again, similar, but is used to convey an identification with the other person and what (s)he is going through.
• Compassion combines sympathy with a desire to alleviate the distress.

When you are communicating with a person who is swamped by their own emotions, you can really stick your foot in your mouth if they take the meaning differently to how you intended them. If you have not been in the same situation as she is, it isn't a great idea to proclaim "I know how you feel."  A  woman who thinks she is showing everyone how positive and "together" she is may be quite offended to hear that you talk about her with sympathy. She may take it as an expression of pity, when you didn't mean that at all.   

Please, don’t ever try to stifle her by saying “Forget about it. Surely it won’t happen again.” You can’t give her any guarantees and this may provoke resentment, anger or being misunderstood. She is not looking for you to solve her problems; she may just need you to listen and give sincere comfort. Instead of shutting off those dreams and memories that existed in her with the previous pregnancy, I would encourage them to flow. They are the reason that she is risking her body, heart and mind again.  By remembering and talking about her positive reasons for conceiving and carrying the first baby, she can reach a level of acceptance and underlying strength to move forward into the new pregnancy with renewed courage.  She deserves to embrace and enjoy carrying this child who is, at no other time, more a part of her than right now.