On the evening August 10th, at 11 weeks pregnant, I suffered a miscarriage. I was in Calgary the reception of a wedding I was part of, and after dinner when I went to the washroom there was blood.
And then there was more blood. I found the maid of honour and the other bridesmaid, and the decision was made to have me driven to the Foothills Hospital by said bridesmaid and her husband, while the maid of honour made the sure bride was in the dark about the situation. Simply because we knew she would drop everything and come with us and I wasn’t about to let that happen.
I was admitted pretty quickly after arrival and changed from my dress into a hospital gown. The doctor did an ultrasound to try and detect a heartbeat but there was none. He said that didn’t necessarily mean anything since he is a doctor and not an ultrasound tech.
I was in contact with my husband during the entire time via messaging because he was at home in Chilliwack with our daughter.
Without going into too much more detail it was later decided that yes, I had miscarried and would need a D&C to prevent infection.
While all this was happening Erin (bridesmaid) stayed by my side and held my hand, hugged me, and put Drag Race on her phone so we had something to do while we waited.
Around probably 2 am (we’d left the reception at about 10 pm) I was moved up to the Gynecology unit and at that point Erin messaged our bridal party group chat so Nicole (bride) would be informed when she woke up. Chantal did a stellar job of not only keeping Nicole from worrying too much but also holding it together while being in contact with us.
At some point I was informed by the Resident working at that time, that this miscarriage was one that just sometimes happens. There’s no explanation for it; the body can just reject a pregnancy. Later that week I looked into it because I needed more clarity. While no, there was nothing I could have done differently, reading that it was likely because of a genetic abnormality that wouldn’t be able to handle life, gave me comfort.
I would rather it happen at that time, with my body figuring it out on its own, instead of finding out later that it wasn’t a viable pregnancy and having to terminate.
I don’t like talking about the fact that this happened.
But the truth is we need to talk about it. We need to stop this stigma that miscarrying isn’t that common or that there’s something that you could have done. It sucks and I wouldn’t wish it on anyone.
I also feel incredibly fortunate that I live in Canada so I didn’t have to worry about my insurance covering my hospital stay or if I could afford a D&C. My friends paid for parking but that’s it.
Things I’m doing to deal with the hurt of this loss are; writing this post so maybe someone who’s going through a similar situation doesn’t feel alone, writing an article for Candor Magazine (piece not yet published as of August 2019) on what I learned from it, letting myself feel all the feelings whenever they come, and being grateful that I know I can have kids but this time just didn’t work out. Also knowing I have people that are around to talk whenever I need to.
So, with all that being said, while I may have my people not everybody does. So if you don’t have someone you feel you can talk to; I’m here. You’re not alone in this and I hope you don’t ever feel that you are.