I still cannot believe this happened to us. It is so so hard to write about this, but I know that sharing my story will help break the silence. I am not alone. We are not alone. But I still feel so alone.
Millions of women have miscarriages. No one talks about it.
I am conflicted.
I am angry.
I am so beyond devastated.
We lost the pregnancy very early. “At least you know you can get pregnant” “You’ll just try again” No one knows how to react or what to say.
What do you say to someone who lost a piece of themselves. Literally.
I couldn’t talk to ANYONE about it. I still have NEVER TALKED ABOUT IT with anyone but my husband. I have been silently suffering with extreme depression. I feel so ripped apart. I think about it EVERY DAY. We should have a 3 month old now.
Here I go:
I was at the lunch table at school with my coworkers. I ate a hearty meal and felt fine. I wanted to go to the bathroom before the next class. I sat down and saw blood in my undies. I was wearing a pad because I constantly leaked the vaginal Estradiol pills. I was so glad I had one on. I was terrified. I didn’t know what to do. I froze on the toilet. I heard the kids outside of the bathroom. I had to get it together. I wiped. I stood up. I felt a clot gush down. I got back on the toilet. This was it. My dream was over. Our dream was over.
I cleaned up and looked at my coworker who knew everything that was going on with me. We share a classroom and I needed her to know about my appointments, etc. We locked eyes, I told her I had to go home. She knew.
I cried my whole car ride home. I knew I was losing the baby. I frantically called my husband. He frantically googled bleeding in early pregnancy. “Maybe it’s normal. You could be fine.”
I called and emailed my RE. She told me to drive myself to the Emergency Room and to come in to the clinic the next morning. I’ll never forget the fear I felt. I walked up to registration. “How can I help you.” I started bawling my eyes out. “I think I’m having a miscarriage” I’ll never forget the look in her eyes. She looked sad. I was helpless.
I was called back for the initial check up. Blood pressure, etc. I saw my husband through the window and called him back. After the check up, we went to sit in the waiting room. The whole time I thought I was leaking blood. I could feel it gushing down.
We were finally called back. I asked to go to the bathroom and told the young male nurse that I needed many sanitary napkins. I ran to the bathroom and felt like my whole insides were coming out. I had blood clots the size of my fist falling out of me. I was so scared.
“Do you feel pain?”
“Do you feel cramping?”
They took blood samples and sent me back to the sonograher room. Normally they don’t let anyone else in, but I needed my husband to be there with me.
They confirmed everything that I already knew. There was nothing there.
I was wheeled back to my small room. We had to wait for my bloodwork to come back. When it came back, the OBGYN was there. She said my levels didn’t drop very much, but I was having a miscarriage.
“How long will the clots and bleeding last?”
“A few days. Law down and rest.”
I wanted to dig a hole and crawl into it and be erased from the world.
It was time to go home. My husband and I fell into each other’s arms and cried. I know that this was equally just as hard for him. I could see the pain in his eyes. The sorrow. He looked lost.
The next day I went to my RE’s clinic. They wanted to do a check. Nothing. I don’t think I ever stopped crying from the moment I entered the clinic. I could barely talk. After the internal sonogram, they took blood samples.
My RE was amazing. She hugged me hard and expressed how sorry she was.
“How long do people wait to try again?”
“It depends on their situations. I want to get further testing done. For now, go home and rest. It will take a few days.”
We got home. Our embryo was framed on the dresser. I fell apart. I couldn’t look. I failed. I was broken. I’m still broken. I’m still raw.
They called me the next day. My pregnancy levels significantly dropped.
I had towels under me on the bed because I was bleeding so much. My pads didn’t always catch the clots falling out.
I stood in the shower for the longest time sobbing and sobbing every day.
I couldn’t even imagine going back into work. I will forever be grateful to my coworker. After 3 days off, she convinced me that the best thing was to come back to work and have a routine. I cried A LOT. I ran to the bathroom to cry A LOT. I couldn’t look at anyone in the eye. People knew something was wrong. It was hard to breathe at some points. It was so overwhelming. There was never a good time to go back to work in my mind. Being so far away from my friends and family, I had to go back. I needed the human connection.
I had to go for blood work every couple of days to check my pregnancy levels. They needed to get to 0 before moving on with anything.
Zero. Waiting for that number was heartbreaking.
I need to move on from this post. It has almost been a year since this happened. It feels so raw still.
This is jumbled. I am just typing as I am remembering it. I will not edit this. This has really fucked me up.
I needed to share this story.
I need to move on and be strong to try again. I’m terrified.