Miscarriage
Last year I had a miscarriage. I’ve been in my relationship for 13 years and for that whole time we have avoided pregnancy. But now we are 30 and articles about fertility were starting to play on my mind and questions from family members and friends were becoming more frequent. We giddily decided to start trying. We thought it would take a few goes honestly, but I’ve got my period app and before I even missed my period I knew something was different.
I took the test right before heading out to see friends, we were mostly shocked and delighted and a little bit terrified. The pregnancy from that moment became the centre of our world. We were incredibly busy in those first few weeks, ending jobs and moving out of the city to a small town. This was all decided before the pregnancy but it felt like everything was all falling into place, just a bit hectic. The only hurdle we had to get through was an overseas trip that was booked months ahead, but I had checked with my doctor who gave me the all clear. I was pretty sick for the weeks leading up to the trip. I can’t remember when morning sickness hit, because I deleted all my pregnancy apps as soon as I got the bad news. I was extremely exhausted after our move though, around the 6-7 week mark, and I couldn’t fathom having to go to work. But all of these symptoms actually made me relieved because I felt pregnant, and that was a good sign.
The morning of the 8 week scan, I was nervous. I had worrying thoughts about how the pregnancy was going. I didn’t want to think negatively, but miscarriage had certainly entered my mind. I took about five pregnancy tests over those first weeks, even that morning before we got the scan, all reassuring me that I was pregnant. We went along, excited to get some formal confirmation and go through the motions that I had seen on tv and movies over and over again. I now know, after endless googling, that what happened to me pretty much happens the same way for other women who have experienced a miscarriage. The technician couldn’t find a heartbeat; she asked me if I was certain about my dates and recommended a series of blood tests to check my hCG levels. At this point I was worried, but assured by her calm demeanour. That was until I got home and started researching. There are endless opinions and experiences online, ping ponging you from utter despair to longing that your case might be different.
My case wasn’t different though. I got a call a couple of days later from the nurse to say that I should expect to miscarry within the next couple of weeks. I learned that what had happened was in fact a missed-miscarriage, which is when your body hasn’t yet recognised that the foetus isn’t viable. I still had pregnancy symptoms as we flew that night to London, embarking on our 6 week holiday. I was in shock that entire flight, crying silently while I went over every movement I had made in those previous weeks. Angry because we had tried to do everything “right” but my body had failed. Needless to say, the timing felt like one last kick while I was down. I ended up miscarrying in a public bathroom 3 weeks later (a truly horrific experience).
While the nurse was kind, she didn’t prepare me enough for what was going to happen. I was told to expect a heavier period than usual, and to take some ibuprofen for the pain. In reality, I wasn’t able to manage the “period”, bleeding through everything I had, passing out and ending up in the hospital. While lying in the hospital bed looking at the hallway clock, I could time out my cramps like mini contractions as they came in waves. The trip feels like a strange duality. We were so happy to be there, and in a way it was great to be away from home. But a lot of it I walked around in a daze, mourning something that I couldn’t really get my head around.
One minute I was pregnant, already jumping forward months, years and imagining my new life with a child, and my husband becoming a dad. The next minute I was just me, but turned inside out, broken-hearted. A big part of that heartbreak was feeling like I had let my husband down. It was his loss too, only he didn’t have hormones helping his feelings along. I think it was even more of a jarring experience for him in that way. I listened to some miscarriage podcasts while on trains between Berlin, Krakow and Prague. It helped me feel less alone, realising I didn’t do anything wrong and that this can happen to anyone. They tell you over and over that miscarriage is common, 1 in 4 women. I didn’t know anyone personally, but since talking about it, a space has opened up for those conversations. I’ve made a point to talk about it, honestly, because I couldn’t imagine going through this alone.
My experience has challenged my viewpoints on women’s health. I am a strong believer in a woman’s right to choose but in those weeks after I felt conflicted. Why was my 8 week old foetus “a baby” to me? It was incredibly confronting and something I wasn’t expecting to process. To this I have made peace in that we are all women, just trying to do our best and do what is right for ourselves, for our own mental health and prosperity.
I have gained knowledge, but mostly I have gained so much respect for what women go through, their resilience in the many facets of reproductive health. At this point I am not thinking about trying again. Although I can talk about it very openly, I think I have some residual shock from the whole physical and emotional experience. I’m a little scared to put myself through it again, if I’m honest.
For advice and support on miscarriages visit miscarriagesupport.org.nz
Words — Larissa
Image source — here
