Bare with me, this may take a while.
I’ll start this story where I last left off.
I went to the doctor yesterday.
My ultrasound tech thought that I had already miscarried.
As we walked in, she said “So, do you think you’ve passed everything?”
I assured her I had not.
I ended up seeing the midwife that I spoke to at my first appointment, she was much kinder, but talked a bit much for my liking.
She said that my ultrasound still showed no changes. Although I didn’t ask her, I looked carefully at my ultrasound. The sac seemed different, misshapen. My hope was that this meant things were going alright.
I told her that, as long as we could emotionally handle it, that we would like to let it go until it happens naturally. She told me that that was a reasonable choice and that, since the doctors were not in that day (it was a surgery day) she would call me after talking to them and seeing how long the doctor was comfortable letting me wait it out.She warned me of what I might experience and she said that, if I can, save any tissue that I pass so that they can see if I have passed everything (we’ll see about that).
Before leaving, she also told me that my PAP, from my first visit, showed an abnormality. They’ll have to do more tests once the miscarriage is over, but there shouldn’t be a reason to panic, especially because pregnancy can evidently mess with the results of your PAP.
My Great Aunt Sheila died of cervical cancer when she was 35, I believe. She’s the only one. It’s unlikely that this strange result means anything. I’m not worried, but her death was something that crossed my mind.
Around 6pm, the midwife called me. Dr. Daniels (a doctor I had heard of but not yet met) said that standard practice is to wait no more than 6 weeks after the original diagnosis. I am at 3 weeks. This seemed sufficient to me. Six weeks being pregnant without a baby seems like a long time to suffer. But that point I would surely be ready for a D&C.
Now for the meat of this story:
Last night was awful.
I started getting cramps again, worse than usual, and they seemed to be coming in waves. My hips and my back hurt immensely. It got worse if I was still, so I spent a good portion of the night cleaning and sitting down briefly to rest while rocking my hips to try to get through the pain.
Finally around 1, I got ready for bed. I got in and then decided that I should put on a pad. I was certain that this was it.
I fell asleep. I woke up a few times in moderate pain, mostly in my back. When I got up this morning, I knew something had happened. I felt it. I went to the bathroom and bled quite a bit. No solids, except for a few small clots.
Once this is all over, I’ll probably write a full post on the experience, so let me just say this for now:
After reading up on childbirth and all the weird things that go with it, I’m a little astonished that, to begin birthing my non-existent baby, it reminded me of those accounts of childbirth.
I know a lot of women say that miscarrying felt like giving birth, while others say that it feels like a bad period. I assumed that, because of the circumstances of mine, it would be more like that latter.
Once the waves started it felt incredibly primal. In between the bouts of pain, I was at peace. I felt womanly and comfortable. I felt that my body was doing what it needed.
As much as I’ve been dreading this miscarriage, the physical act of miscarrying is freeing, for me at least.
It’s proving that, although my body failed at this pregnancy, it does not fail at taking care of me.
All of this may change. Today I have mild bloating and a few cramps so far, but nothing terrible.
I don’t know if it will get worse or better or how I will feel once large clots and tissue start coming out of me.
I do know that I’ll be sure to let you in. My story is not the majority, but it is one story about what a million women are experiencing.
This will be okay.