Sunday, December 7, 2014

My Miscarriage Story

 The things people do not tell you could kill you.  The things they do tell you could heal you.

The Natural Disaster

I feel like my doctor’s office should have sent me home with some reading material on what a miscarriage should and should not be like.   I was left to the internet, which was very vague.  Everywhere websites said it would be like a heavy period, which might last one to two weeks.  This is how I had prepared myself.  It seemed to be going that way. 

The third day, to put it politely, I started bleeding a lot.  I thought, “I don’t know maybe this is what it’s like.”  Maybe this is the big event that happens.  I had very strong, labor-like, cramping, and a lot of bleeding.  It ran down my pants and seemed to be getting stronger.  Finally, I called on a friend who is a nurse practitioner.  I was calling more because I wanted more knowledge about what was going to happen.  I asked her how much bleeding was too much.  But by then it was getting scary.  She informed me I needed to get to an ER quickly.

My mom was visiting so she drove me to the ER and a friend took my children.  The ER was able to help me quickly enough.  I received IV fluids and went home.  I was wiped out for the next few days.  I still tire easily.  But, if I had not had a friend with medical training and whom I felt comfortable calling, things could have gone very badly.  I feel totally abandoned by those who were supposed to care for my health.  My doctor’s office is difficult to even get on the phone.  If only there had been a pamphlet for me to take home to help me know what’s normal, what’s not and explain my options.

So my takeaway for other women facing miscarriage is to ask for reading material, because you probably will not know what questions to even ask.  Then read it right away and call your doctor with any questions you might have.  Do not be afraid to be a bother?  Do not be afraid to ask dumb questions?

The Miscarriage Sisterhood 

In the past when I have met women who experienced miscarriages I have given my condolences, but I never linger on the topic.  I know it is painful and I wish not to trouble them.  For me it was the same.  I told my friends and immediately told them I did not want to talk about it.  It just made me feel too raw to talk about it.

But a funny thing happened this week.  Women started sharing with me about their own miscarriages.  For some reason while talking to these women I did not feel so terrible.  Likewise, they did not seem to struggle with it either.  Another friend shared that every time she shares with a woman facing miscarriage she feels a small sense of healing in herself.  I felt as strong as ever talking to these women.  It was very comforting and healing to see life and strength after loss.

I think it is healing to share with someone you know has gone through it.  Every story is different, with the same end--loss and grief.  Sharing the miscarriage stories is a little bit like sharing birth stories.  I think women feel solace in sharing birth stories as well.  It is something deeply connected to who we are and our womanhood.  Unfortunately, now I am a part of a new sisterhood.

 Looking for Sense in the Senseless 

Lately, I am the saddest (distraught and pained beyond measure), when I try to make sense of it.  I keep asking God why this happened.  I keep searching for signs why He would not want us to have a child now.  I’m always looking for signs from God.  My own answers make no sense.  There is no sense in this.  It all just feels like happenstance--like there is no hand of God.  That is why this is all so troubling. 

I pray a prayer every morning that says, “In unforeseen events, let me not forget that all are sent by You.”  There are no accidents; God makes no mistakes.  Then I remember that God is good.  So what awful thing did He protect us from in this event?  I keep searching to find God’s hand and I only become sadder, because I neither see Him nor want God to have brought this upon us.

Perhaps this event was bound to happen in this fallen world, yet He cared for me through my loss in ways that cannot be quantified.  I look at the timing of our loss.  I see how fortunate it was that it happened last week and not in the coming week when I would be traveling.  I see how fortunate I am in my friends and family, in the love and care they have given to us.  I see a lot of silver linings. 

I have to stop asking why.  I have to stop searching for meaning, because miscarriage is senseless.  I can only move forward and live.