Friends, the last couple of weeks have been extremely trying for me.
Last month, I found out I was pregnant. My spouse and I were incredibly excited because we want to grow our family. We started thinking about our life with a little one. What names do we like? Who are they going to look like more? Me? Or my spouse?
At my first OB appointment, I found out I was five or six weeks into my pregnancy. I was about two months late, so it was a surprise to learn I was that early on. Anyway, my next appointment after that was scheduled two weeks later. However, I began experiencing some complications leading up to that appointment. To avoid TMI, I’ll stay away from the specifics. It was the Saturday approaching my 8th week when I felt like things were off. Despite my appointment being days away, our hospital liaison suggested I go to the hospital ASAP.
It was then I actually saw our little bean for the first time via ultrasound. I cried. I couldn’t believe I was seeing something that was growing inside of me. Because of the complications, the doctor gave me a hormone shot to hopefully help. They didn’t hear a heartbeat so I was scheduled to come back again on Monday. I was hopeful. We were in a gray area of our baby’s development because around this time a heartbeat should be heard, but it might still be developing. Monday rolled around and it was still silent. My heart sank – and I became extremely nervous. My doctor still couldn’t be definitive, so we scheduled another appointment for Thursday.
That was when we received devastating news. I must have miscarried because she couldn’t find the bean I saw earlier that week. It was then that it hit me. I will never get the chance to see and feel this baby grow. A future that my spouse and I were hoping for ended. I hate being so dramatic, but I can’t explain the flurry of emotions that rushed through my body when I saw my empty belly on the ultrasound. This was our first pregnancy and I was (and still am) heartbroken.
Not only did I encounter a rush of sadness, my body was still suffering from the effects. My doctor prescribed medication in hopes to help my body fully miscarry. But nearly another week passed and I was still hurting. When I went in for yet another follow-up, my doctor suggested a D&C procedure. At that time, I was diagnosed with an incomplete miscarriage.
I thought to myself, “this is never-ending.” I have to come back in again. For the fifth time in two weeks. What is happening? How will I go on?
My spouse was actually the person to tell me that miscarriage is common. About 1 in 10 women experience one. Also, he mentioned that more than 80% go onto having healthy pregnancies afterward.
I know I’m not alone, but it’s still difficult to understand.
I will never get an answer to that question. Even knowing it wasn’t my fault, I blame myself. I feel guilty. I feel pain. I feel helpless.
Instead, I need to focus on coping with our loss and healing physically and emotionally. Things will get better. I know that. I have to focus on that.
Also, thank you all for taking a couple of minutes out of your day to listen to me, a grieving woman that lost her chance to be a mom (at least for now). I wanted to share my story because it helps me to talk about it. I hope to offer any support for others that have experienced a miscarriage. I don’t want anyone to ever feel alone. Despite being thousands of miles from home and in a foreign country, like myself, there is always people nearby – just holler.
A huge shout-out to my colleagues that offered space and kind words during this difficult time. I am truly lucky to work with passionate people that are also compassionate and understanding. It killed me to be away from the office, but I’ve learned that I needed time to heal.