Miscarriage Doesn’t Have to be Silent

I had a miscarriage 5 days ago.  I didn’t have cramps, I didn’t bleed, and I had no clue.  I went to my doctor, with my husband, to have our ultrasound.  I was 13 weeks pregnant.  Right at the “safe zone”.  But, as is sometimes, the case Nature had other plans for us. Our baby we had been so excited about had no heartbeat.  The doctor said some words that maybe I heard, but all I really remember is looking at my husband’s face and feeling shocked.  Although I knew this could always be a possibility at any time in the first, and even early into the second trimester, I didn’t expect it to happen to me. But then it did. 

I went to my appointment excited to see our baby and left feeling numb and heartbroken.  No pictures to share with the world or hang up on the refrigerator. Having to make phone calls to the family we had already told to tell them there would be no grandchild or niece or nephew was devastating.  

I didn’t cry right away.  I couldn’t.  It wasn’t until an hour or so after the appointment that I sobbed until I couldn’t breathe.  I had lost someone I had never “met”, but was already deeply in love with.  Someone I changed my life for the instant I saw the plus sign because in that instant, I was a mother and that’s what mothers do.  Before I could see or touch my baby, I as ready to protect them at all cost.  

I know what happened wasn’t my fault.  My doctor simply said the baby stopped growing about 3 weeks prior and that’s normal for miscarriage.  The baby just didn’t develop right.  He also revealed to me that miscarriage now is 1 in 3 pregnancies, only most will never know they are ever pregnant at all.  Maybe he said that to me to make this feel or seem more common or normal, but all I kept hearing was “there is no heartbeat”.  The baby was right there on the screen.  Right in front of my face, but no life in it’s tiny little body.  I think that’s what is the hardest part of this for me to think about.  He or she was real, inside of me, just not there.  He or she was also still inside of me and there was nothing I could do but wait.

Wait I did. Through the Christmas Eve and Christmas, I waited.  I tried to cook and find things I enjoy, but all I wanted to do was sit, fall asleep and try to pass the time.  Monday still brought no change and nothing was open because of the holiday.  Tuesday was my first chance to tell a doctor that I was emotionally ready to finish what had already begun on its own.  Turns out that D&C surgery was my only option due to how far along I was.  6 hours later, meeting with other doctors, and then off to surgery, it was over.  I was no longer pregnant.  No life inside of my body.  Just empty.  

I do have to say, the staff at St Vincent’s Women’s Hospital was more than kind, consoling, and informative.  They answered every question I had without treating me like they had answered it a hundred times before or that it was stupid.  They left me with so many things to help me handle my grief and made sure they answered anything Scott, my husband, needed to know as well.  

Having great care is a large part of what got me through it.  I went home bleeding and wearing a diaper of my own, and I think right now my mind is just focused on “surgery recovery”.  I’m sure when I  have my first regular period in a few weeks it will hit me, again, that life was lost.  Then again, perhaps it will give me new hope that life can now be had again should we choose to try.  I’ll feel what I feel when that time comes and no feeling will be wrong.  To any woman out there having gone through this same situation, no feeling you ever had or will continue to feel will ever be wrong.  Grief is simply expressed however we feel it.  Even years later.

I have chosen to tell my story not to scare anyone, but because I know I’m not alone in what happened.  I want it be “ok” to reach out and share if your story if you want to or need to.  When we have people in our lives for years and they pass away, we share.  We share because we loved them, will miss them, and think of them every day.  Losing a pregnancy is no different.  A life was loved and a life was lost.  I shared my loss because I loved them, will miss them, and think of them every day.  

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One Response to Miscarriage Doesn’t Have to be Silent

  1. Christina January 15, 2017 at 7:59 pm #

    I had a similar experience with my baby lossing it’s heart beat and I found out at 13 weeks also but my doctors were not sympathetic like yours were.. I became another number. I had called the doctor because I knew something was wrong and it was New Year’s Eve and they didn’t want to see me.. they made me wait for three days before anyone could see me.. My husband and I were devastated and are not waiting to see what went wrong with the baby.

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