Miscarriage: My Story of Loss
Miscarriage and infant loss are touchy subjects that no one wants to talk about but it’s common. It’s important to know you’re not alone. In fact, one in four women will have a miscarriage in their lives. Many probably wonder why I would share something so personal. Well the truth is, writing is therapeutic for me. It always has been. I also want to be transparent about the things that have happened in my life. Especially with something that could help others. Miscarriage is something that many women go through and they suffer silently because they don’t want people to know or they’re feeling ashamed. Here is my story of loss.
This story starts November of 2015. I was casually seeing a guy. It was one of those "no strings attached" kind of things. Well as we all know, those don't really go well. One person usually gets way more involved than they should and it leads to heartbreak. Needless to say, I was the one that got too involved but I kept my wits about me. I decided to saddle up and move on.
February rolled around and my feelings had morphed into something more serious but I was sick of his shit at the same time. The date was February 29, 2016 and I had decided I was done with him. My period was like clockwork. Every 28 days, down to the hour. So on this day when my period didn't come, I wanted to be sure. So I went to the closest drugstore and bought a pregnancy test. When I got home, I opened it up and took the test.
POSITIVE? What? No! Come on, I don’t need this right now. Those were my first thoughts. After I gathered my thoughts, I went to lunch with a friend and I told her the results of the test. She encouraged me to tell him. I knew what his reaction would be but I knew that I wouldn’t be able to keep it from him for long, so I told him. His exact words, “Wow, when it rains, it pours”. This was not a surprising reaction being that he already had a young child (under 3) and didn’t have the best relationship with his child’s mother.
For the next few weeks, he tirelessly tried to convince me that an abortion was the best option for us. However, I knew this request wasn’t about “us” at all. It was about him. Nothing in that request was about my well-being. As one could imagine, this was hurtful and stressful. However, my mind was made up. There was no way I was going to get an abortion. I was gonna have this baby, with or without his support. He showed up to my job a few times, trying to convince me that abortion would be best. On March 22nd, I was driving home from work and I said to myself, “Maybe I should just get the abortion.” I never actually considered this option, I was just angry and frustrated and said it in the moment.
I took it back the minute I said it. You see, I’m a firm believer in the Law of Attraction. I believe that you declare what you want and the universe listens. The next morning, I woke up to blood. Bright red and new blood. I called the doctor and they asked me all the preliminary questions then told me to keep an eye on it. As the morning progressed, my stomach started to cramp and I felt like something was wrong. At 9 am, I called the doctor again and they told me to come in right away. At this point I was 8 weeks pregnant; I knew that this early there wouldn’t be much they could do to keep me pregnant if I was having a miscarriage.
I hadn’t even had my first ultrasound yet. It was scheduled for exactly two weeks later. At the doctor’s office, the nurse hooked me up to the ultrasound monitor. There was no heartbeat, there was nothing, just blood. Then the nurse said, “this is an early term miscarriage, I’m sorry.” My heart broke. I felt shattered and empty.
The next day, I went to work. I tried to make my life “business as usual”. That’s all I could do at the time. I needed some sort of normalcy because there was no way I could sit at home and cry all day. I needed to stay busy. At this time, I was a daycare teacher. The children in my classroom were 12-24 months. My days were filled with hugs, tears, falls, and ABC’s. Imagine my despair as I sat on the alphabet rug in my classroom, singing Itsy Bitsy Spider to other people’s children as I could literally feel my child leaving my womb.
“Imagine my despair as I sat on the alphabet rug in my classroom, singing Itsy Bitsy Spider to other people’s children as I could literally feel my child leaving my womb.”
The coming weeks and months got progressively more difficult. The only people I could talk to openly were those who had gone through it themselves. People who knew what it was like to have life inside of them and suddenly have it taken away. Those people were the most genuine of ears. The un-relatable ears lent cliché words of sympathy such as, “Everything happens for a reason” and “I get that you're sad but at some point you have to get past this.” Not to say that they didn’t care, they just didn’t know what to say, but who does in time of loss?
I’m grateful for all the love I received during that time. Those who had been through this, felt this feeling, they didn’t offer any of those sympathetic words of encouragement. They instead said, “This is going to be hard. You're going to be sad but it does it easier. Not for a while, but it does.” They were right. It was hard. I couldn’t help but to blame myself. Constantly replaying things in my head. Recalling the declaration I made in the car the day before. Did my baby hear me? Did it decide to give up? Did the universe give me exactly what I said I wanted. Something I said in a moment of confusion. Something I didn’t really mean at all.
I continued to count my weeks and months. Dreading checking my email because although I unsubscribed from all the mommy-to-be sites, they were still sending me emails. November 4, 2016 was a hard day. It was my due date. Only those who had been through it before had asked how I felt that day. Naturally, I was sad. I didn’t really know what to make of it all. I was sad that I didn’t have a baby in my arms but happy that I finally made it to the expected due date. Happy that maybe, I could move on. By this time “dad” and I were no longer speaking. As one could imagine, our relationship had completely changed during those weeks of pregnancy.
Now, at almost a year after my due date, I’m okay. I still think about that baby but I’m at peace with what happened. I know that sometimes these things happen and you can’t blame yourself. You just have to go with it and try to and trust the process of your life. No matter how hard it may be.
We all need an outlet. Writing has always been mine. The book below could really help anyone who may be going through this.