I had a miscarriage

Before reading: This blog is a direct journal entry of my experience having a miscarriage. I think it is important if you are pregnant and/or sensitive to this topic to skip this blog.

I had a miscarriage. I thought I was okay but I keep crying. I mentally prepared for this possibility so my logical brain understands and is hopeful, but as I go on to my sixth heavy day of bleeding I can’t help but feel like trauma is in my body. It happened when I finally turned six weeks, a bench mark I was really looking forward to because it was going to start looking more like a baby. In my heart I believe it was a boy. I know my baby will return to me but there is loss in my body and so much blood. I go on like everything is normal because I have to. We are on vacation and it’s our honeymoon. I bleed across Greece- unprepared and scared I may leave the evidence in the seats and in my white outfit I am wearing. There was a clot, that was the first sign. I knew something was wrong then. Found it right before we checked out of the hotel. Bear a grin to the people you meet and hope the sunglasses cover your glassy red eyes. Hope the panty liner is enough to keep everyone from knowing you are miscarrying while hoping that it isn’t true. Arrive to your next destination and find that you cannot deny you are losing your baby. It’s too much blood. Silent screams on the toilet as to not alarm the bell hop who is delivering your luggage that has the onesies you’ve purchased. Silent screams for getting your hopes up and anger for having told anyone the news. Now you have to tell them this. Now your husband doesn’t get to celebrate Father’s Day which is four days away. Now you have to tell your father the package arriving to his place is an accident when it was actually a Father’s Day announcement present. Now you have to wonder if you will see evidence of the baby or did you already flush it away. Can I even call this a miscarriage? It is so early I have to look up if I have the right. Other women have had it so much worse. Walk around Greece for miles, free bleeding your baby’s home. Smile and have fun so you don’t spend your last travel days depressed. Punish yourself for getting your hopes up, rationalize the fact that it’s not that bad and you will try again. Wonder when the bleeding will stop. Cry secret tears because you’ve told yourself you’ve already processed it. Wonder how much tragedy is the limit in a year. Wait for your body to empty out and the tension headache in your neck to disappear. That headache was the warning sign-Incapacitated the night before. My dream slipped through my legs.

Post script: I am happy to say I had my rainbow baby less than a year later. I know have two children. This experience taught me a lot about myself. If you have experienced a miscarriage, I see you. You will get through this.