It was on a Thursday that we went to the doctor’s office to confirm the suspicion of our pregnancy. I couldn’t keep the secret and let my husband know we were conceiving as soon as I made it to the parking lot. We quickly started making lists of people we wanted to tell and started looking up creative baby announcement ideas. Needless to say Thursday was a happy day.
Fast forward to Saturday. I was working during the morning and began feeling cramps. I finished my group session and the pain worsened. After my last couple’s session I rushed home to rest. I researched that cramping could be normal, so I wasn’t initially alarmed. Things got scary when blood started to appear.
Now let me insert here that I was well aware that miscarriages are an unfortunate common experience. I remember having conversations with my peers in graduate school and most of the women in this particular discussion had experienced miscarriages. Multiple of my closest friends had also experienced a miscarriage. So mentally, I was not shocked that it could happen to me. What I failed to realize was how physically painful it would be. Women had only discussed the emotional toll that miscarriages take.
So, I’m at home and my husband and I accept that I am having a miscarriage. But the pain I experienced was very unfamiliar to me. I was experiencing contractions and not knowing. I was throwing up, had an intense migraine, and was having difficulty controlling my bladder. After a few hours of enduring the pain I finally asked my husband to call someone for advice on what to do. My husband reached out to a handful of close friends and each phone was painstakingly painful. I hated that instead of calling people with joy we were calling amidst our pain. I also hated hearing how sorry they were for us. In the end we were advised to go to the hospital. And so we went.
Upon arriving at the hospital, I was triaged and waited for over an hour before being seen. I wanted to punch everyone in the face. When a nurse came to get me they mistakenly took a different pregnant person who was also having a miscarriage. I almost lost it. Eventually I was treated with some low-grade pain medication and IV fluids until the baby passed. It was an exhausting experience.
As I mentioned, miscarriages are quite common, but how we experience them can be quite unique. I had no emotional scarring from that experience, but I left feeling obligated to share more openly about women’s issues so that anyone within my circle of influence can feel comforted, supported, and educated. Next to the physical pain, the only thing I wish I had was more knowledge about what to do in that situation.
I wish someone would have known hospital procedure for addressing a miscarriage. I would have stayed at home honestly. I also which that my friends would have been more forthcoming with the details of their miscarriages. Sharing this experience with you gives me hope that you can share openly with someone too.