I had a miscarriage.
Even typing that sentence seems so surreal. I have never experienced grief like this. I don’t know how to cope, but I guess that’s how… you just do. I still function and make it through what I need to. I got out of bed, I got the kids off to school, I go through the routine… it hits in waves. Everything I’ve ever heard about grief & coping all makes sense to me now.
My first appointment was set for December 5th. We’d planned to take photos with the ultrasound to announce it to everyone. In fact, the only person that knew was my mom… we told her while she was here for Thanksgiving. The Saturday after Thanksgiving I started to feel some cramps and there was a bit of spotting. Being that this was my 4th pregnancy, I knew the drill… it can happen, it can be normal, blah blah blah.
Sunday was the same.
Come Monday, I took my preschooler to school and called a nurse from the parking lot because the pain became more severe and to one side. I then picked up Owen from school (he was so confused and a little bit mad about it) and we headed to meet my husband at the ER. Hours upon hours later (I’m not even kidding, our total ER time was 7 hours) they did an ultrasound and an internal ultrasound. There was a mass on my left ovary and they couldn’t see a sac. It was too early to determine if it was ectopic or if the mass was simply supporting the pregnancy & it was just too early in the pregnancy to see a sac. Oh, and I got a Rogham shot. That was just a lovely addition to everything. They sent me home with pain killers and told me to come back Monday for labs. At some point David grabbed Fin & Maddie from school. The kids spent about 5 hours with me in the ER. They gave my husband time off for the next 48 hrs to be with me. I was numb the whole way home. We stopped for tacos because it was Owen’s birthday & that’s the dinner he requested. His presents weren’t wrapped, I’d planned to wrap them while he was in preschool. He told me he didn’t care. “It doesn’t matter, mom… being happy and stuff is all that matters” Oh, the heart of a 5 year old. We did cake & ice cream, David took care of it and got them to bed.
On Tuesday I felt OK. Sore and blah but after the previous day that seemed expected. There was a lot of blood, cramping… it was crappy.. It was boring. David, Owen and I were basically bumbs all day. David handled all of Owen’s crazienss while I stayed on the couch. For the most part I was able to just pretend we were having a lazy day.
I woke up on Wednesday anxious, nauseous, scared… I went in at 10:30 for blood work and had to wait until 1 for my appointment. Labs didn’t even have any knowledge of me, so I had to walk to OBGYN to check on that for myself. Once that was taken care of, labs got me back right away and then we just waited…. come 12:45 I checked in. I got called back… the nurse doing my vitals asked “So this would have been your 4th pregnancy? 3 Kids at home?” and then another nurse came in to tell me that my DR really wanted to see me, but he’d gotten called up to L&D for an emergency. I went back to the waiting room…No problem, I didn’t mind waiting… David left with Owen to go get the older kids from school for fear of them getting home to an empty house (since we weren’t sure how long we’d be waiting)… then the nurse’s words sank in. I called David and told him. He said, “maybe he misspoke… he probably didn’t read your chart.. look at all of my issues with people not reading my charts”. He did not misspeak. What an absolutely shitty way to find out that you’ve miscarried. So I’m sitting there surrounded by people with newborns, and people that are super excited to be pregnant just trying to not fall apart. My heart hurt, my heart hurt for all of the people that had been through that before… for all of the people that probably hated me while I was that happy pregnant person standing there with ultrasound photos… my heart hurt. At 1pm, they called me back. My DR rambled quickly about how he’s sorry to be so fast, emergency in the OR, might have to run out… I told him it wasn’t a problem, that I understoond. I really did understand. My oldest was an emergency c-section, I know how fast emergencies can happen. He quickly told me that my numbers had dropped significantly and then closed the door so I could change.
I changed, they came back in… did an ultrasound… no sac, no fluid, my body was doing what it was supposed to do.
“Come back in on Friday for labs, at the rate your levels are dropping, we should only have to get labs once a week after Friday”.
“Great”, I thought… “I get to be continuously reminded of this… and I can’t even go to my local clinic, I have a 30 minute drive each way to just think about why I’m driving this far”.
I asked if it was ectopic. He said he couldn’t tell since my body was already handling it. But he said that that was a good thing because it meant no surgery required. “It was a bad one” he said at one point.
He left. The nurse (not the same one that originally informed me) apologized… it seemed genuine. I got dressed and called David to see how far away he was. 20 minutes. I spent 20 minutes just sitting in the hopsital (I left the OBGYN clinic), just watching people walk past me.
David arrived with the kids, I hopped in the car and we went to pickup his truck that had still been in the ER parking lot since Monday. He went on to an appointment he had (he’s still in the middle of his MedBoard) and I drove us home.
Grief comes in waves. All of the sudden I’m keeling over in gut wrenching pain with so many thoughts racing through my head.
*I can’t imagine the pain of people that have gone through this multiple times.
*You drank too much coffee.
*It happened because you weren’t excited when you first found out. You were anxious and nervous and stressed.
*It was so new and shocking still… how can you be this heartbroken?
*Pull it together.
*It’s okay to fall apart, you’re allowed to fall apart.
*I can’t believe how much this hurts.
*You lost a baby… it’s OKAY to grieve.
*You KNEW that this would be the outcome, you’re not stupid… you knew… then why does it hurt so much still?!
*I’ve never experienced anything so gut wrenching.
*Is it my fault? Did I do something wrong?
*It’s not your fault. It just happened.
*This is just devstating.
*My soul hurts.
*It’ll be okay. You just need time.
*Will it? Does time help?
*How can time heal this?
Logically I know that it’s not my fault. I really do. I know that sometimes it just happens.
Numbness takes over and I calm down and I’m just kind of going through the routine..
Then it hits again. Everything reminds me… the leftover chicken and rice that I craved soooo badly sitting in the fridge, the prenatal vitamins on the counter, bathrooms trips, David asking me how I am forces me to think about why he’s asking… my mind is racing just trying to forget about it, but the constant cramping reminds me of what my body is doing.
And then I’m just kind of here, zoned out until the next thing reminds me.
I hate this so much.
My eyes are bloodshot.
My oldest told me this morning that I looked really tired.
My poor husband has no idea what to do. He’s trying his hardest to comfort me, asking me to talk to him, telling me it’s not my fault, it just happens sometimes, etc etc. He’s doing exactly what I need him to do and it’s doing nothing. I told him I needed time. He understands that. I can’t process this, I can’t get past this. I know that in time I’ll heal, but it’s hard to heal and move past this when I get reminded of it everytime I go to the bathroom or feel cramps. It’s unfair… my breasts still hurt, my hormones are out of control. I don’t know how to process this.
I knew that this would be the outcome. It’s not like my hopes were up that everything would be fine… I knew better. I still wasn’t fully prepared to hurt like this. I didn’t know it was possible to feel this heartbroken… devastated.
I have three happy, beautiful, healthy children. I’m glad that this happened after them because I don’t know if I could or would want to even try again after this. I imagine it’ll get easier with time, but it’s so raw… it’s so fresh… it’s soul crushing, you guys.
On one hand, I feel guilty for feeling this way because I do have three children and I know that there are so many people out there struggling to have a baby. I know that that’s silly because I’m allowed to grieve. These emotions are just nothing I’ve ever experienced before. I literally don’t know how to process this or how to cope. I imagine that that’s totally normal. Everything I’ve read says that that’s normal. Guilt, anger, sadness, heartbreak, blah, blah, blah.
Life still goes on around me. I still paid bills, got the kids to school, fed Owen breakfast, etc etc. David keeps calling to check on me. The people that know about it are checking on me. I deleted the Facebook app off of my phone because seeing anything happy hurt me and seeing anything negative made me bitter and mad at the world. I put my phone on “Do not disturb”. I just can’t handle people right now. I’m in hermit mode.
But, I still have to live. I’m still figuring out what we need to get for Christmas, budgeting in gifts, answering emails, accepting blog work. I’m actually thankful for the blog work coming because it distracts me, and it provides some financial comfort with the MedBoard coming and us not really knowing when money will come. That’s stressful because it’s just getting closer & closer and we haven’t really had long enough to prepare and save up what we’d have liked to. David was informed that the Army will keep his last check and then that money that we expected right away won’t come until a month or two later. That rocks our financial plans a bit. We’ll make do & figure it out, we always do, but what a crappy time for all of this to be happening. When it rains, it pours. Having to still process life and live is hard. David told me to just lay in bed all day if I needed to, but I can’t do that. I can’t just sit there and dwell on my sadness. In a way I’m thankful that life is still life… it takes my focus off of it, it sort of distracts me, but then another waves hit… and hits hard…harder than anything I’ve ever experienced before. And I have no control over it.
My body is miscarrying and my soul is crushed.