Just weeks after our September wedding in 2010, we discovered we were expecting, but I miscarried just one month later, which devastated me emotionally and physically. As I imagine many women in similar situations would attest to, I went through a long period of wondering what I did wrong. The treatment by an insensitive doctor didn’t help. Compound that with the physical pain that came with the cramping, the excessive bleeding, and a “D& C” (dilation and curettage procedure) that I was conscious for—the high from celebrating our union with more than 200 of our closest friends and family quickly passed. I spent the months that followed our loss working like a maniac to put the loss behind me. But I had hope for the future.

There is no shortage of articles discouraging constant screaming (or raising one’s voice) in relationships, especially when parenting. We all scream, of course. Why? In a TIME article from 2015 on scream science, the reporter writes, “Screaming serves not only to convey danger but also to induce fear in the listener and heighten awareness for both screamer and listener to respond to their environment.” This we already know. What most of us do care about is when that practice is considered acceptable, normal, or actually abusive behavior. (No one can excuse the latter.) Though it isn’t fair to judge other’s personal relationships without taking into account the context and people involved. Cultural norms vary; what’s considered screaming versus talking loudly, or dare I use the word healthy communication, in one household can be completely out of sync with another’s. Some obviously may gasp at the thought of familial relationships surviving and thriving when a household’s volume is often high, but to them, I say, “Ours has!”