Miscarriage...and why people don't talk about it

I often wondered why people never really talked about having a miscarriage. The statistics are that 1 in 4 pregnancies will end in miscarriage. You'd think, with those odds, it would be a common place conversation. I'm starting to realize why its not. Its been 1 week and 3 days since I found out that our baby was gone. From last Monday to last Wednesday all I felt was shock, disbelief and hopeless sadness.

Last Thursday I had the actual miscarriage. My doctor tried to talk me into having a D&C, basically the same small surgical procedure as an abortion. I opted to have it naturally. So for 3 days I waited. It could have been worse, some people wait and it never happens naturally. But Thursday morning at 5am the cramps started. I would have been entering my 12th week of pregnancy. Only a week and a half and I would have been "in the clear" more or less. That might be one of the worst parts of this. Pregnancy weeks, for me, went by so slow, each week felt like two.

So for 2-3 hours the pain was bad, but manageable. Only the equivalent of the worst period cramps I've had. The final hour was 10x that pain. Its the first time I've ever cried becuase a pain was so intense. Finally it was over. The most awful experience of my life so far, and hopefully the worst, was over.

I should have opted for the D&C.

For the next couple days all I wanted to do was tell everyone of the pain, and wondered why more people didn't talk about it. Pain is so relative. My doctor said it would be painful. My theory was, my body is made to do these things, why have an unnecessary procedure. My doctor, as well as others, told me there were two reasons, pain, and emotional pain. And now I know. All of this is true.

The memory of the physical pain fades quickly. And now the deep sadness is all that lingers. At least with physical pain, there is an end in sight. With my current pain, I see no light at the end of a tunnel. All I see is darkness.

There have been good days and bad days. Life still keeps going, that can be hard. Seeing others forget your experience quickly and then its just you and your memories.

Burned in my mind, is the fateful image from last Monday's ultrasound. The baby, in just a few short weeks, had grown from an unidentifiable blob, into a fully recognizable tiny baby. Arms and legs, fingers and toes. I wonder if this wouldn't have been so hard if I hadn't seen that image. It seems like it would be so much easier to let something go when it was just a blob. In this case, I'll never know.

The doctor said we could start trying again in a couple months. The thought of this gives me horrible visions of more miscarriages, and deeper sadness. A week and a half later, I'm still in shock and as sad as the day we found out. How long will this last?

I guess at this time all I can do is thank my lucky stars that I have people in my life that have been the best support I could have ever wanted. My family, friends, and of course C.

My dearest husband, C, was so unbelievably there for me. I love him more now than I ever thought was possible. Even in his own shock and grief he was able to pick me off the ground before I was swallowed into complete darkness. He held my hand through every poke and prod. He is full of constant reassurances that we will move past this and someday have a healthy happy baby of our very own. He will be the best father someday.