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The First Miscarriage – part two

September 28, 2009

Our new life had begun.  We were married and living in his parents home for the summer.  We had all ready arranged for a 2 bedroom apartment in the married student housing unit for the fall.  We had celebrated our marriage, completed my first year of school, another year for him, and a baby was on the way.  We were happy and in love and excited about our future.  He really didn’t share his feelings.  I was lost in the storm of feelings when I gave myself even a second to think.  I was excited, happy, in love.  I was also filled with doubts, fear, and scared out of my mind.  How could I have gotten pregnant?  What were my parents going to say when we finally told them? 

One week to the day of our marriage, I woke up in the middle of the night.  I was in a pool of blood and cramping.  I had no idea what was happening.  I was ashamed of the mess I had made in my mother-in-law’s bed.  Blood was everywhere.  Then the pain hit.  More pain than I had ever felt in my life.  I was crying and had no idea of what to do.  He woke his parents.  I was told that they were taking me to the hospital.  Did I want to call my parents?  Crying, I heard my dad answer the phone.  All I could say was how sorry I was, he was not going to be a grandfather.  He told me to just worry about me.  He and my mom would come to the hospital. 

The trip to the hospital was long and quiet.  I tried not to cry, but I just kept crying, harder and harder.  I was scared, no one was talking, telling me anything.  We got to the hospital, and I was rushed into a room.  A gown, and could I go to the bathroom?  Yes, it was just over there.  I looked down into the toilet, and saw several huge clots of blood.  I wiped and more blood just kept coming.  This just couldn’t be happening!  What on earth was all this blood?  I knew I was losing the baby, but a part of my brain just wouldn’t let that thought in.  I refused to hear or see or understand what was happening.  The nurse asked, have you passed any clots?  Yes.  When?  Just now in the bathroom.  Where are they?  I need to see them.  Why didn’t anyone tell me that?  My mind had a horrific thought, had I just flushed the baby down the toilet?  How could I have done that!  How was I to know that those clots of blood were important?  I was horrified.  I went into a panic.  The nurse must have realized what I was thinking, she told me not to worry, just let her see anymore clots if I lost more. I just closed that thought down, like it had never happened.  I could not be losing the baby.  Hadn’t I stopped bleeding?  Hadn’t things been going all right?  No one had warned me.  And now no one was telling me anything.  The doctor just said, we are going to take you know and see what’s what.  What’s what?  What the hell does that mean?  I was wheeled down hallways, just like on t.v.  Bright lights overhead, dizzying turns,  equipment, people.  A needle in the arm, then nothing.  I woke up cursing like a sailor.  Where was my husband, what had happened?  The baby?  What about the baby?  Lost?  How could that be?  They had performed a D&C, a what?  Was it a boy or girl?  They couldn’t tell?  What had happened?  What do you mean, you don’t know.  You’re a doctor, what did I do, or didn’t do?  It had to be my fault, my failure.  I could feel my mind just barely holding on.  You need rest.  We’ll talk later. 

That talk never really happened.  There were no explanations. I was just left with the feeling that a  part of me that had been ripped out, a D&C.  Just blood and cells, no baby anymore.  Just the emptiness and feeling of failure.  And to my shame,  there was also a feeling of relief. How could I be relieved, what kind of awful person must I be to be a little bit okay with the fact that there would be no baby.

What followed was almost worse than the loss.  The stories of other women, and their losses.  They went on to have other children.  I could almost stand those comments meant to sooth and console.  What I couldn’t stand, and still can’t are the statements, God has a plan, it’s for the best, it was not meant to be.  How about, shit just happens!  You mean God pointed his finger at me and said, I think I’ll cause you to lose your baby.  Can you really belief what you’re saying?  What had I done to cause God to point his finger at me, and say my plan for you is a miscarraige.  All these years later I some times have those feelings come rushing back when I least expect them.  Loss, anger, failure, relief, confusion, pain, questions unaswered.  That baby would be an adult now.  Maybe with a family of their own.  I didn’t understand it, the doctors didn’t understand it.  We were told, oh don’t worry.  You will have other babies, don’t worry.  Like a fool, I believed them.

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