A 2629 Word Essay Detailing My Miscarriage :-/

DISCLAIMER:  First, this might obviously be a trigger.  It is the story of my miscarriage – in detail.  Second, I just looked down and I’m at over 1800 words.  And I’m not even close to being finished….. so I might lose ya.  Sorry!  Make that 1942 words…

I think it’s finally time for me to tell my story.  Or continue my story, I guess.  Afterall, it ain’t over yet!

I’m going to rewind and start from December 5th, 2013.

I took a pregnancy test around 10AM that day.  I didn’t think I was pregnant and was really only taking the test so that I could be miserable and cranky and tell my husband that we could drink our faces off over the holidays.  I took the test in the bathroom and went and waited in my room, on my bed, the allotted 2 minutes.  I walked into the bathroom and grabbed the test off of the side of the tub and looked.  I couldn’t believe there were two pink lines.  I’d only once ever seen a second line and I’m pretty sure it was an evaporation line.  Anyway, I almost dropped the test, said “Really????” out loud like 53 times, cried, and then read the instructions for the test again, cause I was sure I was somehow reading it wrong.  I then debated calling my husband and telling him, but then remembered that I wanted to tell him in a special way.  Well, after 4 minutes, that went out the window and I called him at work and screamed “I’m pregnant!!!” into the phone.  I later picked him up from the train and we kissed, giggled, and ate dinner in complete happiness.

The next day (a Friday), I had my pregnancy confirmed by the RE.  However, there were instructions that my progesterone was a little low, so I would need to take 4 suppositories instead of 3.  A couple of hours later, I was getting ready to leave work and I’d started bleeding.  It was too late to call the RE.  I went to my car and called my husband to tell him I thought I was miscarrying.  I cried so much that night and took 2 more pregnancy tests (not entirely sure what I expected to gain from that, to be honest).  Over the weekend, I continued to worry, continued to bleed.  It wasn’t really fresh blood (mostly brown), and there was no pain, no tissue.  But I was still bleeding and not happy about it.  Not being able to talk to a nurse or doctor was slowly killing me.  My husband eventually convinced me to email my doctor.  Dr. R, being the wonderful man he is, replied back almost immediately and told me that it is fine and very common to have spotting in early pregnancy.  He told me to come back in on Monday and we’d do some more tests.

That Monday, my HCG was confirmed to be rising “very nicely”, but my progesterone was still on the low side. I was told I’d need to take the “progesterone in oil” (PIO) shots.  I was scheduled in for an ultrasound at what would be around the 6 week mark.  I came home and was worried, but trying to stay positive.  Cody was a trooper.  The PIO shots go in your ass/hip. Let me tell ya – no matter what “methods” the nurse shows you, there is no way to avoid the pain.  One night, Cody was giving me my shot and it hit something.  I think it was too close to the last spot that was injected 2 days before and it HURT like a mother f-er.  I actually cried.  I felt bad about crying and it made Cody so upset that he had to do that.  As a side note – my ass still has some pain at the injection sites – almost 2 months later.

I didn’t have any cravings.  I was eating a lot of soup and drinking a lot of water – which is weird for me, but other than that, food was fine.  I found myself eating less, but more often.  I was tired all of the time and my boobs were super sore (and itchy…ugh).  Things were relatively mild.

Once I started the PIO shots, my spotting stopped.  I figured that my low progesterone was contributing to the spotting.  You would think that would have made me happy and I could have chilled out a bit… no.  I mean, I WAS happy, but for some reason I liked torturing myself and would research blighted ovums, missed miscarriages, miscarriage statistics, PCOS and miscarriage, diabetes and miscarriage… you get the idea.  My ultrasound was approaching on the 20th and I was terrified there wasn’t going to be anything on that tiny little screen.

I sat in the waiting room while the nurses gave me happy faces and talked to me about pregnancy.  I was called to the back and Cody came with me. I hopped up on that table and my nurse did her thing with the transvaginal ultrasound.  She happily told me that the pregnancy was in the right spot and I measuring at 5 weeks 6 days.  However it was too early to see much or hear the heartbeat.  I was OK with that.  I jumped off the table and got dressed.  I looked up and Cody was in awe, holding our baby’s first picture.  I was also told I could reduce the number of PIO shots to every second day.

Over the next 9 days I was mostly normal. I had some craft shows to go to, which was probably good since I was able to stay distracted.  I was adamant about not buying things for the baby yet, but caved on a handmade crocheted Minion hat.  To this day, it’s the only thing we bought.

I had a hard time telling people and even harder time not telling people.  My parents knew the day after I took my pregnancy test.  My brother knew a couple of days after we had our ultrasound.  Two friends knew.  I went back and forth on telling Cody’s immediate family.  Cody wanted to wait until there was a heartbeat, but we had a picture to show them so we decided we would tell them over Christmas.  On December 26th, we slipped the ultrasound picture into a card for them.  After all of the gifts were exchanged, we handed them the card we “forgot” to give them.  Cody’s mom cried, his dad took a picture of the ultrasound photo on his cell phone.  We told them that we didn’t want it to go any further than that room because of the progesterone issues.  I even opened up to his mom… kind of.  I told her we’d been trying for a long time and that we were seeing a fertility clinic.  When she asked me if it had gone as far as IVF, I told her no.  And then for some unknown reason, I told her that I was just getting help with ovulation.  I could not bring myself to tell her that it was both of us with some issues.

On December 30th, I was at work.  I had moved a couple of heavy-ish boxes.  I was putting medications away.  The pharmacist was with a patient.  I felt cramps.  Not the ones I’d been feeling for the last 25+ days.  I ran to the washroom, but it was occupied.  I came back to the pharmacy and prayed and pleaded with God not to take my baby.  I waited a couple of minutes and went back to the bathroom.  I got in that time and there was nothing on my underwear.  I wiped.  Bright red blood.  I quickly walked back to the pharmacy and told the pharmacist I had to go to the hospital.  I got in my car and called Cody.  I started to cry harder as he told me he was already on his way to me.  I realized I was going the wrong way to the hospital and had to turn around.  It was then that it registered to me that I didn’t even know where the hospital was since I’d never even been there before.  As I was driving I was crying silent tears and praying.  I remember noticing that it was a bright, sunny day.  I acknowledged at that moment there was no saving my Bumble.  If it had been raining or snowing, then God would have been telling me that it was going to be ok.

I made it to the hospital and was greeted by someone very sweet.  I asked her where emergency was and she asked me if I was ok.  I told her I thought I was miscarrying.  She got very panicked but was able to quickly bring me back to triage.  I answered all of the triage nurse’s questions (even though she was bitchy).  I was given a bag and I went to the bathroom.  In the “care package”, there were hospital issued mesh underwear (I didn’t even know those were a thing), a mat?, and a few HUGE pads.  I threw out my own underwear out at that point since my bleeding had increased.  I was walked back to a room and was thankful to be put in a room with an actual door.  My main nurse came back and told me that it might be a while before the doctor came in, but if I was actually miscarrying, there was nothing they could do anyway.  In some weird way, I appreciated the complete honesty.  The doctor came in after a while.  At this point I was bleeding more and having back pain.  He told me that this was common and no reason to get upset – yet.  I knew I was miscarrying though.  There was no way that this level of blood would mean a good outcome.  He told me that they would do blood work and an ultrasound and we’d go from there.  He left and eventually the nurse doing blood came by.  She also had no personality, but she did her job well.  After another half hour or so another nurse came by and told me that we were going to head to the ultrasound.  Before we walked over, I asked to go to the bathroom.  She was so sweet and told me that she was going to stand outside of the door in case I needed her.  I wish I knew her name.  Anyway, at that moment, I passed my first clot.  I was bleeding much heavier and it was hard to stand up straight.  I remember looking down at my ugly black work shoes and thinking that I’d rather be walking in my socks than in white sock and black shoes.

The ultrasound.  I have never been through something so traumatic in my life.  First, I was sitting outside the room while looking at a poster that showed how a “normal” pregnancy progresses.  The I could hear a woman having her ultrasound done and the baby’s heartbeat was strong.  Very strong and loud.  I was called in and we started with an abdominal ultrasound.  She couldn’t see anything.  We moved on to transvaginal where she couldn’t see anything there either.  It was painful and I told her that, but she told me that she had to keep going.  A few minutes or an hour later and the main radiologist came over to have a look.  The fucking “dildocam” was still in me and they kept pushing harder and harder trying to see something.  The radiologist was getting frustrated with me flinching and pulling back.  She told me off, basically, with saying that they needed to find the sack to find out (A) how far along I was, (B) to confirm I wasn’t having an ectopic pregnancy, and (C) to see if I was having a miscarriage.  I told her that I knew exactly how far along I was and that it was a normal fucking pregnancy since I’d already had an ultrasound for all of this shit.  They kept up their crap and I had enough.  They were hurting me and I couldn’t take the pain any more.  I told them that if they didn’t stop I was going to puke everywhere.  Well, let me tell you how quickly I was “released”.  I got up and was mortified.  There was blood everywhere!  All over me, all over the bed.  I started to cry and apologize for the mess.  The ultrasound tech found it in her heart to comfort me at that moment.

I went back to my room and waited for Cody.  I started to cramp pretty badly and was so tired.  My main nurse came back and brought me a warm blanket and some Kleenex (she had to go searching for it, apparently).  She even tucked me in.  Cody finally got to the hospital and I broke down as soon as I saw him.  He let me cry before asking what the doctor said.  I told him that I didn’t have any answers and that I was upset about the ultrasound.  After a long time, a new doctor came back.  He kept staring at me and winking (nervous/awkward tick?  I hope so.).  He confirmed my dates and then eventually said what we didn’t want to hear but we already knew.  I was miscarrying.  I was told that I would probably bleed for 2 weeks and then my period would eventually come.  He then also said that while they did my blood work, they discovered I was 0 negative blood type (I could have told them that..).  Since Cody is A positive it meant I would need a shot called Rhogam.  True to the fashion of that day, he left and my main nurse came back in.  She took my blood pressure again (still high, but to be expected), gave me a script for Naproxen, and then gave me my shot.  In the ass.

We walked out of the hospital and I noticed that I should have paid for parking.  Oops.  We came home and Cody called my parents.  I cried a lot that night and the pain was intense.  I passed a lot of tissue and clots.  Eventually I passed out from a combination of pain, exhaustion, sadness, and maybe a little too much medication.  The cramping lasted about 3 days.  I bled for a week.  I had an ultrasound about a week later and it was confirmed that “everything {was} out”.  My RE told me that miscarriage is common and that it was likely I miscarried due to something not developing as it should have been.  And then I was told the most UNcomforting thing:  AT LEAST WE KNOW YOU CAN GET PREGNANT.  Awesome.  I really would have preferred to carry full-term and brought my baby home, thanks.

Eventually, the ultrasound picture became too much.  I had it in a drawer, but even there it was bothering me.  On my 3rd day off of work I put the ultrasound picture, pregnancy test, and baby hat away.  It didn’t feel good, but it needed to be done.  

I kept my pain hidden and to myself.  And finally, after a moment neither my husband nor I are very proud of, I found myself on the bathroom floor sobbing that I killed our baby.  It was that moment that my husband really saw how I was handling the miscarriage.  It was also the moment that he (literally) picked me up and helped me move forward.  It is because of him, my parents, and a few really good friends that I am even writing this blog entry at this moment.  But I will talk about them in a separate post.

Sorry for the super long post.  It’s cathartic, in a way, to write it all out.  And I made it through without shedding a tear.



8 thoughts on “A 2629 Word Essay Detailing My Miscarriage :-/

  1. Oh Beanie! You are so strong and so amazing. I’m so sorry that you had to go through all of that. As if a miscarriage isn’t traumatic enough, that U/S sounds unbearable. The fact that you are able to share this is incredibly brave and strong. I’m so proud of you. I’m sending you love and lots of big bear hugs!

  2. After reading you post getting close to the bottom I read the words that i so often hear that don’t make me feel any better. “At least you know you can get pregnant”. You will be in my prayers!

    1. Thank you so much! I know people were meaning it in a “good” way, but honestly… some people need a lesson in “How to NOT Put Your Foot In Your Mouth”. When my doctor spit out those words, I rolled my eyes and he followed up with “No, really. Proven fertility is huge!”. I zoned out after that.

      Thinking of you as well!

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