My pregnancy announcement to my partner was surprisingly mundane by today’s standards. I simply asked him to meet me at home after work so I could take a pregnancy test. He stood outside the bathroom door as I tried to navigate the process of unwrapping the test kit. With a mix of excitement and nerves, I waited in silence, still fumbling with the test and feeling the warm remnants of my urine on my hands. The keyhole offered a glimpse of my husband’s anticipation; he was waiting for a sign that our hopes were about to be confirmed. I looked away from the door and focused on the test stick.
I was pregnant.
When I opened the door, our eyes locked, and without speaking, he knew. His joy was so overwhelming that he leaped up, accidentally hitting his head on the door frame. We laughed, cried, and embraced, swaying together as if our happiness echoed through the house.
Initially, we decided to keep our pregnancy under wraps. I thought it was customary to wait a certain period before sharing such news. I confided in my mom, but aside from her, we shared our joy with no one.
Then, while at work, I noticed some brown discharge. I dismissed it as minor, but it lingered in my mind. That afternoon, I attended a work potluck, masking my anxiety with small talk. Later, at a Halloween party with my partner, I pretended to drink while we continued to keep our pregnancy a secret from friends. The spotting grew heavier, prompting us to leave early.
The next morning brought severe cramping and the passing of clots. My husband rushed me to the emergency room, where I cried as we drove through our neighborhood, the world outside moving at a blur. The signs in the ultrasound room warned me not to ask the technician about the results. More secrecy. Lying there, fear enveloped me as I prayed for my body to hold onto the baby.
Doctors were uncertain if I was experiencing a miscarriage since it was still early. They suggested I go home for bed rest and return for lab work. For two long days, I lay in bed, grasping at hope that the pregnancy might continue. I shed tears with my husband and mom, and then alone in silence. The hours dragged on, and sleep became my escape.
In the waiting area for lab work, I clung to the hope that my HCG levels would rise, indicating a viable pregnancy. When my family doctor entered the room, I sensed the gravity of what he was about to say. With deep compassion, he told us our pregnancy was no longer viable.
Returning home, I lay in bed, cramping and bleeding, experiencing the finality of my miscarriage. Eventually, I felt compelled to share our loss with a few people, but we hadn’t even told them about the pregnancy, and now I had to share that we had lost it.
I think back to that scared, lonely version of myself lying in bed, terrified of my reality. I held onto my grief as a secret, just like the miscarriage itself. What I wish I could communicate is how much I regret not opening up about my experience.
- I wish I had spoken more openly about my miscarriage.
- I wish I hadn’t downplayed my grief.
- I wish I hadn’t told myself that others faced bigger losses.
- I wish I allowed myself to feel sad without hiding it.
- I wish I hadn’t rushed back to work.
- I wish I hadn’t forced myself to attend social events when I was not ready.
- I wish I hadn’t tried so hard to comfort everyone else but myself.
I often felt like I was in another world, and I wish I had understood that it was perfectly okay to stay there until I was ready to re-engage with life. I still think about my loss. I still grieve for the many “what-ifs” and “whys.” Keeping my miscarriage a secret didn’t erase my grief.
It’s important to remember that miscarriage and the feelings that accompany it don’t need to be hidden away. You don’t have to prioritize others’ comfort over your own. You are not alone in your grief. For more insights on pregnancy and its many facets, check out this excellent resource on artificial insemination. If you’re interested in exploring home insemination, consider the Cryobaby home intracervical insemination syringe kit combo as a valuable option. Additionally, why September birthdays are special can provide further context on the journey of conception.
In summary, my experience taught me the value of sharing my story. By talking about my miscarriage, I could have eased my pain and connected with others who might have felt the same way.