The topic is taboo. People avoid discussing this at practically all costs, but we, women, should talk about this when “it” happens. We aren’t doing each other any favors by keeping this type of thing so “hush-hush”. I understand some people might not agree with what I’m about to say and that is alright with me, hell, I might not agree with what you have to say either.
I had a miscarriage. Personally I don’t make a habit of avoiding taboo topics, especially when it’s one that should be a more open discussion. When a woman has a miscarriage I feel like people should talk about it, when they’re ready, and in their own way.
Here we go.
My husband and I were trying to get pregnant and that happened much faster than either of us expected, but what happened is just as quickly as we got pregnant I had a miscarriage. The barrage of emotions that invade your body when this happens is impossible to explain. I feel like (yes still) that my body and emotions are on the worlds most confusing and awful roller coaster. Just when I think I’m verging on the end of this ride another hill comes into view, then another dip, and bam I’m back in emotion roller coaster hell. My doctor assured me today that those emotions will begin to level off soon, but not today, and probably not tomorrow either. Fine, roller coaster hell it is for a few more days what else am I to do?
You don’t know how to react to the news and your mind and natural instincts just kinda take over. For me this threw me into a fit of hysterical tears, uncontrollable tears while I sat on the examination table in the doctor’s office. You see I had a miscarriage and a doctor I have never seen before, because my office was closed that day, had to deliver the news. When she walked into the room the first thing I noticed was she was roughly 6 months pregnant. Here I am a first time, well almost, mom, and she’s telling me not this time. I felt like someone took a knife inserted it into my heart and was doing an Indian chant around me in the room stealing my joy, my husband’s joy, and our baby.
Some women might handle their miscarriage experience differently than I did, but is there really a right or wrong way to react? I doubt it. I’ve hardly managed to go to work this week, and my house is a disaster. Thankfully I have a great support system in my in-laws who live in town and they had a cleaning girl come clean my house. The frugal part of my brain screamed, NO, but my body said, thank you. All three of my step kids seem confused and my husband is handling it in his own way, which does not consist of hysterically crying.
On Monday I planted a beautiful Hibiscus shrub in our yard. When we went on our honeymoon they were everywhere in Maui and I kept telling my husband that I wanted some at home. It wasn’t until this unexpected devastating event occurred that I went and got one. This Hibiscus tree is in memory of our peanut that we didn’t get to really have. A burial wasn’t something that could happen I wasn’t very far along in my pregnancy, but a flowering shrub to remember our peanut, that was possible.
Emotionally I am a mess still, and rightfully so. Our lives were flipped up side down in a matter of moments. One minute you’re celebrating being pregnant and the next you’re, just not.
Miscarriage is actually pretty common, not that it makes this easier. On average 50-70% of pregnancies end in miscarriage during the first trimester. Many times before the expectant mother even knows she is pregnant and can be disguised as a very heavy period. Typically after a heart beat is heard the chances reduce for miscarriage, but they’re still there, and that is what happened to us. We heard a heart beat and lost our baby.
We’re going to try again to get pregnant again and have to tell ourselves that this baby we lost was not meant to be. There was something not right with this one and my body knew that. If you must, and I must, put some logic behind this incredibly terrible act it’s that we weren’t meant to have this baby and he/she wasn’t going to be a healthy bouncing baby.
As I sit here in my living room writing this I’m still trying to tell myself that this truly happened for a reason.
You might grieve differently or wonder how I can be so open and talk about the miscarriage. This is how I grieve, I write about it, express my emotions through the strokes of a keyboard and the swipe of a pen.
Today I’m not a frugal wife, today I am just a wife.