… and that shouldn’t make me feel like I’ve done something wrong, or that it’s something to hide, but it does.
The whole pregnancy and miscarriage experience is somewhat shrouded in mystery. But, it really shouldn’t be. Until I went through it, I never knew how many others had also been through that pain. After reading about, or hearing their stories, I feel lucky that it went as “smoothly” as it did.
It did not.
But it could have been much worse.
We found out when I was 8 weeks, that the baby had stopped growing at 6 weeks. The Dr. rattled off three options over the phone, 1) wait 2) medicine that may not work 3) surgery with a name I didn’t catch, because panic — we’ve lost the baby. I was in shock and didn’t know what to do, what to think, so I chose to wait. He said not to call back for at least 3 weeks and that was the end of that.
3 weeks later, I still felt pregnant, or the same symptoms I’d had for about two months. Nauseous like I’d just stepped off a roller coaster, but not enough to throw up. Just a continuous yuck. Exhausted beyond the normal exhaustion I always feel. If I ate anything, I could only force down a few bites before feeling overstuffed, but in a maximum of 2 hours I’d feel like I was starving. If I went more than 2 hours without some food, I’d get such a bellyache. I never slept well. The whole time period just sort of went by in a blur. I wasn’t really mentally around for any of it.
I lost about 8 pounds throughout the 3 months I was going through all this. I also gained a cup size, and a bigger belly pooch, so I don’t know exactly where I lost it from.
I’ve kept off about 5 since.
After those long 3 weeks, I called the Dr back, ready for anything to make my life normal again. I just wanted to not feel sick, to not be late to work, to make it through a day.
I had the D&C surgery a little over a week ago. I felt better, a lot better, almost right away. Every day I feel more and more like myself. I’m still dealing with some after effects, but I can go to work, feel like I’m doing a good job, come home and be able to do something else.
And that’s huge. I had no idea just how awful I felt until I felt better again.
My point is this: I went through a traumatic experience and only told people when I couldn’t find another way out of it (my mom because I needed a ride home after surgery, my boss’ because I needed to use sick leave). It shouldn’t be something to hide, to lie about, or be kept stigmatized in secrecy.
Early miscarriages are more common than I ever knew. If I had known, I wouldn’t have felt so terrible about telling people. I wouldn’t have felt like I was ruining things, or that I’d be written off as a failure, or dramatizing things for attention. It wouldn’t have taken away the pain of the loss, but it would have helped to have someone to talk to.
My husband has been a sweetheart through the whole thing, but there’s nothing like someone who’s been there to understand. And that’s what this comes down to, if as women we talk to each other about these types of things, than we’ll feel less alone. If we don’t feel alone, or different on top of everything else we’re feeling, than it won’t be as bad. It may still be bad, but at least we’ll know it’s not just us.