TW-graphic description of miscarriage, abuse.
I’ve been having a wee bit of a hard time after finding out I was surprise pregnant, rushing to get married so I’d have medical coverage, then promptly miscarrying said pregnancy. Also, dealing with really, really, wanting that baby to happen. I never thought I seriously wanted children, let alone children that came from my own body. I always assumed one day we’d decide it was time and adopt(although I’m not sure we ever would have actually decided the time was right). That seemed like the responsible thing to do. I’ve always looked at having my own children as the selfish option. Why would I bring a new life into this world when so many tiny lives need so much? I have been journaling and working through a lot of my emotions. I am starting to think I have always looked at having children through the broken lens of my own childhood. I was raised in an inarguably abusive household. I had parents far too focused on themselves to have time for their children, and that culminated in physical and emotional abuse. How could I handle raising a child while constantly analyzing my own actions to be sure I’m not perpetuating my own broken youth? Do I even have the ability to give a child what it needs, considering I never got what I needed from my parents? I’ve also always thought I couldn’t have kids without medical intervention due to PCOS. These two factors combined caused me to write off biological children entirely. That writing off was done from a really unhealthy place of fear, denial, and hurt. I am left reeling with all that has changed in the last 3 weeks.
One thing I’ve been incredibly frustrated with is a lack of information about what it is really like to experience a miscarriage. Some women claim it’s like a bad period, some say it’s like a miniature labor/birth experience. However I’ve found it rare to find detailed information of women’s experiences. Maybe women don’t want to relive it, maybe they think they shouldn’t dwell. I think it would be invaluable for women to speak up and share what their miscarriage experiences were like. So here is my story thus far. I wrote this on Friday afternoon(4/24/15).
Sitting in my pajamas, crying about my loneliness. Scared to ask my husband of less than two weeks to come home and comfort me. He hasn’t taken a single day off of work for this. I haven’t asked him to. I oscillate between needing to be held and hating the way his touch feels. It’s the second day since I would say the bulk of my miscarriage occurred. This isn’t getting easier for me. I thought it would get easier. It’s hard not to feel like I’m overreacting.
On Wednesday I start obviously bleeding. I worked in a kitchen that day, I think to myself that it’s all of the moving around causing my body to get started with expelling this fetal tissue. Wednesday night things get worse. I feel cramped, bloated, exhausted, and nauseous. It feels like something is stabbing my lady parts from the inside with a tiny sword. I lay down with a heating pad on my abdomen at 11pm and manage to fall asleep until just before 4am. That’s when I wake up and I feel it. There is pressure inside my vagina. It’s like I’d left something buried in there. It is the weirdest feeling. I instinctually know it is fetal material. I also instinctually know I don’t want to deal with it. I lay in bed avoiding the inevitable, my doubled up overnight pads lining my underwear, hoping there won’t be a puddle when I get up.
Finally I drag myself out of bed and carefully walk to the bathroom. I sit, and I feel large pieces of tissue pass out of my vagina. The feeling is traumatizing. Nobody told me this would happen. I was told I would bleed, not pass decaying chunks of my would-be baby into the toilet. I instantly start sobbing. My husband sleeps. I spend the next 3 hours mostly on the toilet. I cramp for a bit, then gush blood, then feel a piece of placenta slide out. I cry. This goes on until I think the bleeding maybe has slowed. I walk to the bedroom, wake my husband and ask for ginger ale/crackers. I realize I’ve lost a decent amount of blood and need to get something into my body to help replenish all that has been flushed down the toilet. I end up back in the bathroom before he can return upstairs. Blood feels like it’s streaming out of me. At this point I contemplate going to the hospital. I am feeling nervous and afraid. I take stock of my symptoms. I’m bleeding what feels like a lot. I’m not dizzy, I’m not feeling like I might faint, I’m not losing liquids in any other way aside from my tears. I choose to stick it out. I move between the toilet and bed a few times. At some point my bleeding slows enough that I feel comfortable laying down. This is the only relief I get, less of a stream of blood. Two days later, I’m still cramping every so often, bleeding, once in a while I pass tissue, and I’m nauseous any time I eat. I’m scared to shower. I don’t want to have to clean a chunk of blood clotted placenta out of the drain.
Now it’s Sunday morning. I can fully understand why a woman would opt for a D&C instead of choosing a natural miscarriage. That shit is traumatizing. I’m still bleeding which is pretty normal. I had my tattoo consult on Friday(thanks for all of the suggestions/comments. I was informed the night I posted that, that a good friend of mine found out the same day as me that she was also miscarrying....seriously. So I ran over to her house and promptly forgot to respond to everyone/felt awkward responding so late). I see a new therapist for the first time tomorrow. I still plan to meet with the midwife I had been talking with. Apparently I want to have a damn baby come hell or high water. I hope these words can guide someone in the future, facing a similar situation. I wish someone had told me ahead of time in more detail what the range of miscarriages can feel like instead of “You’ll start bleeding” and leaving it at that.
Thank you for reading and I can’t even begin to express how thankful I am to have GT as a place to work through these feelings while receiving all around positive support.