Instead, I am posting about another miscarriage.
Looking back, a lot of little things probably add up to tell me that this was coming. My HCG levels were pretty low, only 38 at 14dpo and 111 by 5 weeks. Doubling every 2.4 days or a 77% increase in 48 hours. Still within the average, but on the low side.
Then there was the spotting. The first was at 16dpo, pink and watery and only twice when I wiped. Doctor reassured me that this was 'normal.' It started again the following week while on holiday, at 5w4d. This time dark brown, and only once and when I wiped. Then the next day, dark brown and only once when I wiped. The following day, dark brown but this time more often when I was wiping. By Friday, at 6 weeks I had a couple of red spots coming through. I panicked the whole way home on the plane, but when we got off - nothing.
Another thing I notice now was my symptoms starting to fade. I know that this can happen anyway and that they can come and go - but in this case I now know it's because they were well and truly going. From 5w4d onwards I no longer got up in the night to empty my bladder. I thought this was maybe because with all the travel I wasn't drinking enough (4 litres not enough?!). I was also able to sleep comfortably on my chest which for the previous week had been unbearable. I was still slightly nauseous, but at this stage I think it was more due to concern about what was happening to our little poppy seed, rather than hormones.
I'll post another day about what actually happened, and what has happened since; at the moment it's just too much to think about. All I can manage is a cold recount of the facts, and yet so much more than that was involved.
I feel completely broken, like I have been shattered into a thousand pieces and although in time I might collect them all up, I'll never be the same, I keep thinking of the activity we do with kids to teach them the power of bullying. You ask them to cut a piece of paper into the shape of a heart. Then you ask them to scrunch it up, that's the effect of bullying. You then ask the students to flatten out their paper heart, this represents a person apologising for their behaviour. The thing they notice is that no matter how much they flatten the paper, the marks remain. That's exactly how I feel right now. But my heart isn't flattened, it's still scrunched tightly into a horrible little ball.
I had the same 'sign' but didn't realise it till after the fact, I stopped vomiting and feeling sick, I had had very reactive nipples and that went away and I hadn't been able to stomach vegetables but suddenly was fine with them. All that happened a few days before I started bleeding - doctor said "it's normal". Bled a bit heavier the next day and I just knew. I was a mess that night, crying to DH who googled everything and thought we were fine because I didn't have cramps. Next day had a scan and was told the bad news. I feel like I don't think anyone will ever understand the experience, especially when the person doing the scan had to tell us, absolutely devastating.
ReplyDeleteI like your paper heart analogy, sad to say I still feel like that two months on.
Thank you so much for sharing. I think you are right, no one can truly understand - even those who have been through it all might have had a different experience.
DeleteI feel like the pain is compounded by the inability to talk about my baby. Most people don't even know we were trying, let alone what we have lost. If you were further along, more people probably knew - then all of a sudden they don't want to talk about it.
I feel like I want to do something to change this, I have no idea what!
All the best as you care for your heart x
I feel maybe a few years from now I will want to let more people know what happened, but at the.moment it's a bit hard. It really is crazy that something so major can happen yet you feel you can't talk to people about it - your life has been changed yet no one knows about it. I had told a few family/friends but left dh to tell the bad news. Seeing everyone after they knew was the weirdest thing, no one knew what to say and would just ask, "Are you ok?" which, really?
ReplyDeleteI guess that's where I am now. I am very much a heart on my sleeve kind of girl, and also the one people come to for support during their troubles - at the moment I can't give that and kind of felt that I needed to say why. I also wanted to scream "This was our baby, you can't just ignore it!" My hubby also had the task of telling, so tough for him. He's been amazing, which I know is something not everyone in this situation can say.
DeleteI'm not really looking forward to the next big family event in a couple of weeks - I am working on a plan NOT to go to tell you the truth. If someone asks me "Are you ok?" I don't know what I would say or do to them.