"The best way to fight quiet is to talk. The best way to fight fear is with information." - Fatherly, from The Mighty
As a disclaimer, I know this is a taboo topic. Women's stories are all over Internet forums, but I almost never see anyone I know publicly share this. I'm doing so because writing is my therapy, and because the fact that something so common is so hushed drives me crazy.
Written Saturday...
Some people are so in tune with their gut instincts that they are confidently lead to the path or decision that feels right in such a solid way. I've never really been like that--in fact, I sometimes envy those people. I admittedly have a pessimist's mind, mainly for self-preservation. I fight to have a "growth mindset" every single day. So when I get little niggling thoughts, I often ignore them or misread them. When I was pregnant with Parker, I had this feeling that something was wrong. I've written about it before, but in short, what I felt like was risk of miscarriage really turned out to be risk of a different life than we had imagined.
2 weeks and one day ago, we found out (very early) that I was pregnant. Parker is almost 4, and we've intentionally, maybe wisely, maybe foolishly, waited until we were stable enough in our lives with him to grow our family. We were nervous, and ecstatic. Because I was really only 3 weeks and 2 days pregnant, we waited to tell our families. By last weekend, our sisters and parents all knew- which was lovely- their excitement was so palpable. But for whatever reason, for the last week or so, I had unfounded anxiety about bleeding. I checked every time I went to the restroom, nearly holding my breath each time, but still so excited with every day that passed.
This weekend was going to be packed. Thursday night, my cousin from NJ and his friend came into town. We had a great evening, and were planning to drive together Friday afternoon to Ohio for my mom's birthday. At work, I was anxious for the day to be over so I could be with and celebrate with family. Except that morning, my fears were realized, and I saw a small clot of blood in the bathroom. I panicked. I ran outside and immediately called my doctor. The saddest part about being only 5 weeks 2 days pregnant is that it is too early for people to feel any real urgency towards investigating a problem, and despite modern medicine, only so much can be learned or done. After a 15 minute wait, a nurse called me and asked me to come in for blood work. 5 weeks is too soon for an ultrasound.
Because I don't work in a private space, I grabbed my things and ran out without saying a word to anyone. I knew I wouldn't be able to hold it together in front of my co-workers. I made it to the street outside my car before promptly bursting into tears. Poor Matt was in the middle of picking up Parker from school, literally sitting in the front office, when I called him. At that point, in my heart, I knew it was done, despite the nurse telling me she's seen the whole spectrum of scenarios, including a successful pregnancy, happen after bleeding. I didn't "feel" pregnant anymore.
After talking with the nurse and hearing that nothing would change over the weekend until my blood work to be done Monday, and an ultrasound couldn't happen until later next week, we decided to head to Springboro anyway. On the car ride, the cramps started picking up, and with every bathroom break, the bleeding got worse. I will never forget the hollowness and despair that experience instills...knowing that you are most likely literally flushing the remnants of your dream down.
We both cried as we drove, and were thankfully comforted at times by Parker's unknowing comic relief. Just like with any pain, physical and mental, it is always worse at night. I couldn't sleep- I could feel what my body was doing, and couldn't shut my mind off. I kept getting angrier about the cruelty of how the body does this. I'm still pretty angry. This morning, I waited for the lab call with answers about my blood work, and with it, got my confirmation. My miscarriage had likely been set into motion a few days before, because my hcg and progesterone were already showing up as too low to sustain a pregnancy. The phone call both dashed the teeny smidge of hope I had left, and brought relief that I had a definitive answer to my experience. I'm thankful I didn't have false hope until Monday.
This clarity has helped make the bleeding and cramping less traumatic, even though I will be so so thankful when it stops. It is so early that my doctor doesn't even need to see me at all unless my pregnancy test still reads positive in a week. But two weeks is plenty of time to build dreams in your mind. I kind of wish the doctor would see me, if only to legitimize the magnitude of what has happened to us. My first instinct is to compare this to others and say- it could have been worse-- that many people have lost babies - some much much further along, and that some can't get pregnant at all. It is always my go-to move. I'm trying to remind myself that avoiding grief by belittling your own experience is not okay.
I'm trying the best I can to accept, process, and move on. I'm trying to be renewed for planning and trying again. I'm trying to stop reading online and memorizing statistics, like the 40+% miscarriage rate with PCOS. And I'm trying not to be so angry that a horribly cruel event gets dragged out by cramping and bleeding for a week. The constant reminder of what we've lost is infuriating because it is inescapable. And I'm trying to navigate how to go back to being a productive human being at what is sure to be a busy week at work. I'm taking Monday off, less for physical discomfort, though that is real, and more for mental health. I can't imagine passing blood clots while at work and still being effective in those moments.
Just like everything in adulthood, there is no rule book. Do I follow the lead of everyone else, and keep this close to chest? Do I tell my supervisors so they understand my absence at this crucial beginning of the school year time? How do I hide the bitter taste I feel at the hand we've been given? I have no clue. I hope within a week, the rawness goes away and we can step forward on our journey to complete our family. And I hope to God that this doesn't happen to us again. I'm sure that fear won't go away any time soon.
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