
by Christen Owen
I threw out the two positive pregnancy tests I kept for the memory box.
I stopped taking my prenatal vitamins.
I deleted the two pregnancy apps I had on my phone.
I unsubscribed to the What to Expect email subscription.
I ate all the food I bought when I was actually craving it, just to get it out of the house.
I had a miscarriage. I was 9 and a half weeks pregnant.
I went to the doctor two days before to have my special moment; when my husband and I would look at the screen and say, “There it is! Do you see it? Do you hear the heartbeat?” But that didn’t happen. The sonographer said, “How far along are you? Any bleeding or cramping?” I replied with a sincere “No,” but I was really thinking was “FML.” My first pregnancy, my first ultrasound, my first dream baby, is going down the drain. The sonographer only saw a yolk sac with no fetus. “Maybe it’s hiding,” she said. “Maybe you are earlier than what you thought,” she said. I replied with a sincere, “Sure,” but what I meant to say was “Thanks, but no Thanks.” I knew where this was going.
The sonographer left and my husband asked what this all meant. I told him we have an egg with no chicken. That description seemed to suffice.
We went back out to the waiting room to wait for our nurse’s appointment. There I was, sitting with a group of women in various stages of pregnancy. I was getting claustrophobic.
Our names were called and we were brought into that room; the one with the couches, comforting pillows, serene pictures on the wall, and a big box of Kleenex on the side table. Again, I was thinking “Thanks, but no thanks.” Unapologetically (probably due to the repetitive nature of her job), the nurse said “We will schedule you in 2 weeks to see if we can find anything. If you miscarriage in the meantime, give us a call. Do you have any questions?” I wanted to reply with “Yes, you motherf***er, I have a bunch of questions. When? Why? How? Why me?” but I replied with sincere “No,” and wrote down my next appointment.
Two days later, I started bleeding. “Thanks but no thanks”. I didn’t want to go through this. First, I started passing blood, said to be the amniotic fluid. Then, small clots. I went to the hospital because I was felt I was passing too much of blood to be considered safe. They told me everything was considered normal at this stage. “NORMAL?” I wanted to scream. A few hours later, I was discharged from the ER, went home and considered this whole thing to be over.
The next day I woke up cramping and continued wearing pads while I bled. About 2 hours later, I laid my “egg with no chicken.” A large piece of intact tissue fell to the ground and I flushed it down the toilet. I didn’t know what it was. I didn’t want anything to do with it. My body felt hijacked and I wanted the alien-takeover to end. Later, I found it was the gestational sac which carried my yolk sac –non-existent baby– and placenta.
What they don’t tell you about miscarriage, is it that it is a very lonely experience. You feel like you are witnessing yourself from above, just hovering, barely treading water. My husband was amazing and supported me throughout the entire experience, but he didn’t understand. For God’s sake, I didn’t understand. My body was doing what it had to do and I was just an innocent bystander.
A week later, we went back to our normal lives. We sought advice from our parents and close friends. I read some very insightful blogs that encouraged me to feel not-so-lonely. We were going through the motions of breakfast, lunch, and dinner like any other couple. We joked; he said “We should go to Taco Bell and call the dinner “Rock Bottom.” I asked him if we could get rid of the “miscarriage toilet” and he said he will go to the store and ask for a “Regular Pee and Poop” toilet. Life moved on.
If you’re miscarrying, the most frequent advice you will hear is that miscarriage is natural and normal. But, it wasn’t normal for me. It wasn’t in my plans of career, husband, baby. It doesn’t feel natural sitting on the toilet and bleeding for hours at a time. It doesn’t feel normal telling your family “Sike! We aren’t pregnant anymore!” It doesn’t feel all that great to now have to lose the pregnancy weight you put on for your not so pregnant body. Although miscarriage is natural and normal, it is ok to feel singled out during this experience and even throw in an occasional “Why me?” every now and again.
The lesson I learned is that many women have to go through this. And it’s ok. I found comfort in knowing how many women have had a similar experience to mine. It made me feel strong. It made me feel like a woman. I wasn’t going to stand on my couch and sing “I am woman” or anything, but I understood why women are given the responsibilities of childbirth. Because, sometimes we are given the responsibly of miscarriage. We have to carry on and take care of our families and our lives- all while allowing and trusting that our bodies have made the right decision. For this reason, I allowed myself to switch my attitude from “Thanks but no Thanks” to “Thank you”.
Miscarriage is awful and hard. However, it is natural. And it is normal. And we only have ourselves to thank. Thank you for knowing that something was wrong. Thank you for making this difficult decision for me. Thank you for not giving up.
However, “Thanks but no Thanks” in the future. OK?
sorry to hear this my friend! I think of my miscarriage so often, it is the hardest thing to deal with. Hugs
Thank you for taking the time to comment, Terri!
Heart breaking read. Your sense of humor, along with husband’s, was a comfort in this piece… but writing this, giving women and men the benefit to read such a personal experience overwhelms me. As a writer, you left me speechless.
This piece had a huge impact on me, too, Rachel. Since I first read it, I can’t stop thinking about Christen and her husband!
Your story was beautifully written. We lived that several times and it is incredibly painful. People often don’t know what to say to you because they mistakenly do not feel like it was a ‘real’ baby that you lost. We lost some very early and some after we had heard their heartbeats and knew their gender. That experience in the waiting room must have felt like forever. I am sorry for your loss.
I am sorry for your losses, Theresa! Thank you for such a kind comment. I’ll let Christen know!
Thank you for sharing this in such a personable way.. I had a miscarriage with what would have been my third child, so the child I’m 20 weeks with now is technically my fourth. I couldn’t, wouldn’t talk about it at all for quite awhile. Most of my family wasn’t even aware I was pregnant, because of how early it was, and some didn’t know for a long time that it happened at all. Miscarriage is not easy.
Keisha, I’m so sorry about your loss. I wonder where the 3 month rule started, and why they thought it was helpful to go through miscarriage alone. 🙁
Thank you for sharing! I’ve also experienced 4 miscarriages. I do have children, but that didn’t make the losses any easier! It was your child! I think that’s what’s hard- others may not think so, but that was your baby. I also know how hard it is to grieve and allow yourself the time to do that. One of our losses at 15 weeks was at Christmas time. When anyone asked, I always said I was fine-didn’t want to mess anyone else’s Christmas up. But I delayed grieving. It was harder when I did grieve.
Samantha, I’m so sorry to hear about your losses. It’s interesting how we’d rather protect others instead of being kind to ourselves. I hope you found peace. xo
I’m so sorry for your loss. As someone who has experienced the same thing twice, it’s amazing how much attachment you have for someone so new to your life. To keep sane and deal with the situations, I kept thinking that this was not meant to be at that time. I have two beautiful sons now, and that’s all that matters.
Hi Romina, Thanks for commenting. I hope Christen reads this comment, and knows she’s not alone!
My heart goes out to you! We suffered three documented miscarriages and likely a fourth that I never went to the doctor for, and it’s heartbreaking. My first was at 18 weeks and I was devastated, and each subsequent pregnancy scared me. In the end, we’ve got four children but the fun and ease I always associated with pregnancy wasn’t there. Hugs!
Thank you so much for commenting, Donna! I hope this topic starts to become more mainstream!!
I’m sorry for you loss, I can very much relate. I hope your story can help others accept what happens and that its ok not to be ok with something that is supposed to be natural and normal. Thank you for sharing
That’s why I loved this piece, Veronique!!!
Thank you everyone! I feel like I have gained new friend with each comment!
I am so sorry you went through this, too. Miscarriage is lonely and heartbreaking, but unfortunately, we aren’t alone. I wouldn’t wish it on anyone, but knowing others understand helps some. I went through it last year and I, too, have a twisted sense of humor…laugh or you cry, right? Well, bless you and I pray you find comfort and healing! I’m sure you have read lots of blog posts on the issue, but if you want one more, here ya go 🙂 http://www.mommycrunch.com/2014/04/7-things-i-have-learned-through-grief/
Thank you, Cara! I hope Christen is checking all these great comments!
I love you.
<3 :)
I’m sorry you had to go through this. I know exactly how hard and lonely it is. I always think it’s important for women to share these experiences, so others don’t feel so alone and scared. Thanks for sharing your story.
I completely agree, Meredith!!! Thank you for popping in!
I’m so sorry about your loss. I hope you find comfort in talking/writing about it.
Thanks for your comment, Ellen! I hope Christen sees it.
Thank you so much for this beautiful article. I am going through the exact same experience at the moment (having seen the ’empty’ scan of my first pregnancy a few days ago). Thank you for sharing as it has helped me to understand my emotions a bit better, and made me feel a little less alone during this empty and confusing time. Lots of positive thoughts to you both – things will get better 🙂
Hi – Sorry for your loss. It’s particularly hard when it is a first pregnancy with all the expectations. It happens a lot more often then women feel comfortable talking about and you will discover that most women have had a miscarriage or at least that was my experience. Hopefully sharing your story, comfort will come from angles you would not expect and help you grieve. I had two miscarriages between 7 to 9 weeks in between two healthy to term pregnancies.
Thank you, Laurie! I’m happy to hear that you had successful pregnancies!