Some miscarriages resolve quickly, as far as its impact on the body. The heart is a different matter.
But Daniel left me quickly and almost painlessly. Yes, I know. I haven’t mentioned him before. Very few people know.
We weren’t supposed to be trying yet. I hadn’t even started taking my prenatal vitamins. I’d begun the process of charting my cycles. I knew they were long–40 days usually. And that month we just weren’t careful. I ovulated late; we didn’t use protection. It didn’t matter that much–we were about to try again anyway!
I watched the temps go up over the coverline. On just the right day, I had a small amount of bleeding–implantation spotting! Whoops! I thought. That’s okay. It’s just a little earlier than planned. I wrote “buy HPT” on my grocery list, mainly to have one to put in his baby box. I already knew.
I was a couple of days late when I went to the bathroom. I felt like I was urinating from the wrong spot and wiped to a slide of bright red blood. My heart sank. Something had already gone wrong. I felt a little hysterical for a moment, then lay on the bed and calmed down. I called my doctor and the nurse told me I could come in for bloodwork if I wanted but it would probably just resolve on its own.
It did. I had cramps, slightly stringier black-red thick blood, and lots of clots. Really, if I hadn’t been charting, I probably wouldn’t have thought too much of it. Daniel slipped away as lightly as he had arrived. I haven’t forgotten about him, his name chosen because that was the first name that popped into my head when I sat on the bed after the temps took their 18th day over the coverline. It’s a boy, I thought, and he’s Daniel. It’s just that my parents took the loss of Casey so hard, I just couldn’t put them through any more. I got pregnant again quickly, with Emma and Elizabeth, so I kept that baby to myself.
Many have a much harder time with the physical end of the pregnancy. Their bodies hang on to the lost baby, the miscarriage process going on for weeks, their hCG refusing to fall below 100, bleeding randomly off and on, until finally they take methotrexate or progesterone or get on birth control pills to help.
Others find out their pregnancy tissue has instead become molar, a type of cancer. Not only do they lose their baby, but face treatments and unending tests and bleeding and passage of dark tar or clusters of dense tissue. They can’t get pregnant again for months or even a year. Their dark days go on and on.
In the book I will need a range of experiences, more than my own. How did it happen for you? How long/how difficult was the miscarriage to get through physically?