I've been wondering for a long time if I want to write an article about something that hit me so hard. But after an open post on social media and all the reactions I received, the messages I received from my friends and acquaintances who had also been through it, I found that a large number of women had experienced miscarriage in their lives. It's so many, it almost scares me.
That's why I decided to write my story. A story that changed my perspective on pregnancy, on all women and on myself and my worldview.
Our efforts to get pregnant a second time
We wanted to enjoy our first little girl, and I wanted siblings for her sometime around the age of 3. After i managed to get pregnant for the first time almost immediately, we didn't want to try for another baby some time in advance. We had a wedding last year, and then we wanted to enjoy one more trip abroad. On our honeymoon we went on a round-the-world trip. It was three months before Emmička's third birthday. On the road, we thought it would be nice if Emmička had siblings. A sibling wouldn't have come to Emmička for three years, as I planned, but at 3.5. But at that moment, it seemed like the best. Emmička no longer required so much care, I arranged with him about everything, so for the arrival of another family member the ideal condition.
But menstruation came, and then more and more. When she came in after three months, I was wondering what was wrong. What's changed in me after 3.5 years. What's different? How come it can't be done? I started to doubt myself. I tried not to completely admit it wasn't possible, but it was gnawering in me.
Just before the trip, I got revaccinated against tetanus, so I thought for a moment if maybe this vaccination wasn't to be responsible for why we couldn't do it. Who knows…
After five months of futile efforts, I decided to order to the doctor. To make sure my body's okay and everything's working out the way it's supposed to. On the exam, the doctor calmed me down and said that sometimes it just takes time. On average, each couple 5 months. Some people do it faster, some people do it slower, but they wouldn't recommend any artificial interventions until after a year of futile efforts. I left so calmly with the feeling that it was going to work out soon.
Then it came
The fact that my days came again, I almost cried. But when it only lasted three days instead of seven days and my period was really mild, I got a little nervous because that's exactly how my pregnancy with Emmička started. After a few days, I took a pregnancy test. And to my amazement, he was positive. It was just a faint comma, but it was there. I was very happy that we succeeded. But it was really in the beginning, I didn't even want to go to the doctor because I knew he wouldn't actually tell me anything yet. I was going to tell Philip when it was confirmed by the doctor.
But after a few days, I started bleeding. I felt terrible, I wanted to cry. It was the day we celebrated Emmička's birthday – towards the end of the celebration. So you can imagine how I had to pretend not to let myself know anything. I didn't want to explain anything to anyone. But I told Philip, and we agreed to go to the hospital for an emergency room to take a look at me. I knew that abortions often happen this early, so my main concern was not to neglect anything.
They did my pregnancy test again in the E.R., asked me about the problems, and they examined me. Even though I tested positive this morning, the hospital told me the test came back negative. I didn't really understand it, but I believed what they told me. The doctor told me after the ultrasound that she couldn't see anything, that at this stage there wouldn't even be anything on the ultrasound, saying that when I stopped bleeding, I should go to my gynecologist for a check-up. I was pretty taken with it, I cried it out, but I came to terms with it pretty quickly. It just wasn't meant to be.
But after about ten days, my underummy started to hurt just like when I was first pregnant. I thought it was strange, and since I had my last pregnancy test, I tried to do it. To my surprise, two pretty distinctive commas turned out. So I called my doctor, told him what and how, and left for an examination.
The fetus was already visible on the ultrasound. The doctor didn't understand how my pregnancy test came back negative at the hospital and told me to come back for a check-up in two weeks. Because I was getting a little stiny all the time, he prescribed me Ascorutin, and I went home. I certainly don't have to describe how happy I was. I didn't understand why my test came back negative at the hospital, but that was now a no-go. I enjoyed the feeling of happiness for another 10 days.
Ten days later, all of a sudden, I got really sick. I got cramps, I couldn't move, and spotting turned into bleeding. It was evening, and I was home alone with Emmička. I was lying on the couch, and I remembered exactly the contractions in childbirth. I started looking for all kinds of things on the Internet, and I was so scared. I knew this was going to be very bad.
The doctor examined me the very next day. The fetus was larger than at the first examination, which was positive. But there was a hematoma in the fetus. I was sent home saying that if an abortion is to happen, it will happen, and unfortunately I will not affect it with anything but a resting regime.
All afternoon, I had big cramps that resulted in even bigger cramps that I had to spend in the bathroom. And then it came. Relief. Suddenly I felt good, my stomach stopped hurting, and I felt nothing at all.
I knew I'd lost this fight. There's no way to describe the feeling of emptiness. I knew my baby was gone. That he's no longer a part of me.
I took a pregnancy test the next day. Two commas disappeared. I felt sick, sick, i wanted to scream. I've been asking myself a lot of questions about why I'm the one. I felt crazy pain.
The pain of never knowing my baby.
That I'd never be able to hug him, that I'd never know his laughter, his crying, his voice. I'll never hear him say "Mom."
That he'd never know his big sister.
That I'd never be able to hug him.
The pain of letting me down. That I'm disappointed in my own body.
Feelings of hopelessness and pain cannot be described in words. I don't think I've ever been this mentally ill before. I've never experienced that feeling of emptiness.
It was week seven.
I can do this on my own
At the checkup, the doctor confirmed that there's no baby in the womb anymore. Unfortunately, however, the ultrasound could see that there are a lot of "things" that definitely do not have to be there. I was therefore recommended to undergo a uretage. Cleaning the uterus in the hospital under anesthesis. I was ready for the doctor to tell me this. I've read a lot before visiting the doctor. I underwent the procedure after six weeks, and I knew I didn't want to now. Not because it's painful. But because I did not want to wait another three to six months, which are recommended by doctors as the period before the next pregnancy. And mostly because I believed my body could handle it. That I have the ability to heal and go through all this on my own. Without any intervention.
The doctor didn't resist. He told me that cleaning can take up to two months and if I don't have any temperatures or other problems, let me come in after my first period to check.
I ordered contryhel and yarocal tea, which I poured daily, I found videos on the Internet with yoga exercises after abortion and to heal the uterus, and since my mother once studied acupuncture and traditional Chinese medicine, I went to acupuncture twice. I, who hate any kind of blood-taking, had a few needles all over my body. I've outdone myself. Because I just believed this would help me. That I have to get out of this on my own.
It happened to me for a reason. Maybe to realize that life can't be planned. Maybe to give me more respect for what I have. Maybe to trust my body more and get to know myself.
After a month and a half, I came in for a checkup. I was afraid that even though everything I'd done for myself, I'd be sent to the hospital for surgery. That I'm going to let myself down again. But… There was nothing on the ultrasound that wasn't supposed to be in the womb. I MADE IT. My body made it. I dropped a huge rock from my heart
I'm hurting my soul after losing a baby that's not going to get over. But the feeling that I was able to physically heal myself for me was a little band-aid to my soul.
The feeling of loss doesn't just hurt. But I believe that the little man's soul, which has already been a part of me, will come again. He'll come when the time is right. And I'll be happiest again.
I'd like to dediage this article to all the women and moms who have had miscarriages. Believe me, one day it will come. Find a hobby to pursue and start the worst thoughts and believe that your baby's soul is just waiting for the best moment to come into your life. Don't be afraid to talk about it. You'll see how many women around you have been through or been through the same thing.
The rest of you – don't ask
Likewise, I would like all those who ask about the meeting of others to read the article:
"So when are you going to have a second one?"
"Aren't you pregnant?"
"So when are you going to hit it?"
"Aren't you expecting yet?"
When the time is right, i'm sure you'll find out. But don't ask until then. You never know what a person is going through and what you can do to hurt them so badly. It's just a question. But for someone going through something like this, it can be pretty painful.