"You'll be fine"- My miscarriage story

My due date is two weeks away and I'm not even a little bit prepared. I haven't purchased any newborn diapers, no baby clothes, no bottles or pacifiers. I never even made a baby registry. 

That's because I lost my baby at six weeks. I had a miscarriage. Most women have miscarriage stories and mine isn't anymore special than the rest. But it's my story. 

"Wanna know a secret?" I asked my sister. 

"What? Oh my God you're pregnant?" She asked immediately. 

I shook my head yes. 

"I knew it! I told you." She said. 

We both sat down as I told her the story of my positive pregnant test and how I was feeling very emotional about the news of being pregnant so soon after my most recent pregnancy. My most recent child, my daughter Aubrey was only six months old and I was still lactating. My seven year old daughter Zana was finally adjusting to having a new baby sister so I couldn't imagine how she'd feel sharing me with another sibling. 

I'll never forget her next words. "You'll be fine." 

And I was. Besides suffering from nausea and fatigue this pregnancy was a breeze compared to my other two. With my two daughters I began to show immediately. This time my stomach was still flat and I kept commenting to my husband how slowly my stomach size was progressing. With my other previous pregnancies I had severe morning sickness, frequent trips to the bathroom and a host of other things that reminded me I was pregnant. This baby seemed content staying in the background.

One day after work I went to pee and when I wiped I saw a few drops of blood on the toilet paper. I texted my husband immediately.

"Oh my God I think I'm having a miscarriage" I told him. 

"No you're not Rose. You're fine. Maybe you're doing too much. Just lay down and relax."

I called my doctor immediately and she told me to lay down and go to sleep. She said if I was still spotting in the morning to go to the hospital and get checked out. 

My husband and I ended up in the emergency room the next day. We found out that even though I was almost thirteen weeks along, my pregnancy had ended sometime in week six. 

The emergency room doctor gave us the option of having a D&C performed or completing my miscarriage at home. A dilation and curettage or D&C as it is called, is a surgical procedure that is usually performed after a first trimester miscarriage. During the procedure the cervix is opened and the contents of the uterus (in this case the fetus) are removed. 

In my case a D&C wasn't necessary as the doctors were sure I would pass the entire fetus on my own. They gave me a prescription for pain medicine and Misoprostol and instructions on how to complete my miscarriage in my own home. 

That weekend in the privacy of my home I passed my fetus. Every contraction of pain I felt, every blood clot I passed was a silent reminder that my body was betraying me. Women are meant to make and sustain life. Was I less of a woman? I seemed to feel that way. 

A few days later I went to my doctor for my follow up. I had completely miscarried and my HCG levels were almost back to what they were prior to my pregnancy. 

"Give your body time to heal and try again in six months. That's a good time frame" the doctor said. 

But I didn't want to try again. I didn't need my body to heal. I needed my heart to.  

What was the time frame on emotional wounds? 

You never think that a miscarriage will happen to you. Unless you or your partner have experienced it for yourself it's hard to understand the bevy of emotions that you go through when you lose a child. 

Recovering physically from the miscarriage was the easy part for me. My cycle returned a month later and the fullness I felt in my breasts had subsided. I didn't have any weight to lose because I hadn't gained any. But, emotionally I was scarred. I was bruised and hurt on some emotional level that I had never experienced before. 

My husband and I had chosen not to tell too many people about my pregnancy superstitiously waiting until after the twelve week mark to announce it to our friends and family. I found out that I had miscarried within that twelfth week. Since this was the case not too many people had known I was even pregnant let alone had miscarried. 

I didn't want to talk about it. I found myself crying easily, feeling jealous of expectant strangers and longing to still be pregnant. I was extremely sad and even at times felt overwhelmed with grief. My husband, conscious of my mood swings and considerate of my emotions, did his best to reassure me that my sadness was not unwarranted. 

One day in bed a few weeks after my miscarriage I rolled over and told him that I felt as if I was "too sad". 

"I don't think I should be this sad over a miscarriage." I announced. 

"Rose, you're allowed to be as sad as you want. It's normal."

My husband didn't realize it but in that moment he helped lift a tremendous weight off of my shoulders. 

I had so much guilt and sadness over my miscarriage that I was punishing myself as if it was my fault. 

I came to realize that having a miscarriage didn't make me less of a woman. It didn't mean that something was wrong with me. It just simply meant that my pregnancy wasn't a viable one. This happens for any number of reasons. Sometimes many reasons combined. 

It's been several months since my husband and I lost our baby and we have no plans to have anymore anytime soon. We figure we'll enjoy the children we get to have in this moment. 

Only God knows if we'll try again or if a baby is in the cards for us. I find myself sometimes thinking out loud wondering if I can even get pregnant again, but I don't obsess over it. 

Having a miscarriage is an emotional experience that in all honesty I never thought would happen to me. I don't know how I will feel on our unborn child's actual due date but what my sister said still rings true. 

"You'll be fine." 

Months later, I am.