So last Tuesday started like any other morning till I noticed some spotting. Mild cramps followed. Tried to stay calm, told myself maybe it’s nothing serious. Grabbed a cup of tea, sat on the sofa hoping it would stop. By lunchtime, the cramps got sharper, like bad period pains rolling through my lower back and belly.
Facing the Reality
Went to the bathroom again and saw it wasn’t just spotting anymore. Felt this cold wave wash over me. Called my OB-GYN right away, voice shaky. They told me to come in immediately. Driving to the clinic felt unreal, like I was outside my own body watching it happen. Every bump in the road hurt.
At the clinic, they did the ultrasound first. Remember staring at that gray screen while the tech moved the wand around, her face super focused. Then she just got real quiet. That silence? It screamed. The doctor came in after, touched my shoulder gently, confirmed what I already knew in my gut: no heartbeat. Miscarriage. The word itself felt heavy and sharp.
Going Through It
They gave me options: wait for it to pass naturally, take medicine to help it along, or have a small procedure. I chose the meds. Got the prescription, went home. Took those pills later that night. Knew it would make things happen faster, but nothing prepares you.
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The next few hours were rough.
- Cramping hit hard: Like intense labor pains, coming in waves. Doubled over a couple of times. Used a heating pad constantly.
- Heavy bleeding: Way heavier than any period. Clots. It felt scary, messy, physically draining.
- Emotional crash: In between the worst pains, just curled up crying. Felt empty and completely devastated all at once.
My partner just stayed by my side, handed me water, changed the heating pad, held my hand through the worst contractions. Felt awful they had to see me like that.
The Aftermath & Coping
The intense stuff calmed down after maybe 4-5 hours, but the bleeding and milder cramps lasted days, slowly tapering off. Follow-up appointment a week later confirmed everything had passed.
How I’ve been trying to cope? Honestly, it’s messy.
- Let myself feel: Cried buckets. Got angry. Days where I just felt numb and stared at the wall. Letting it all happen.
- Talking (to a few people): My partner mainly. Told one very close friend who’d been through it too. Found her “been there” understanding actually helped more than generic “so sorry” messages. Didn’t tell the wider world – not ready.
- Physical rest: Slept a ton. Still get tired easily. Trying to listen to my body, nap when needed.
- Small comforts: Watching dumb sitcom reruns. Hot baths. Wearing my oldest, softest sweatshirt.
- Avoided the images: Saw one graphic representation accidentally online early on – huge mistake. Scrolled right past anything remotely similar since. Didn’t search for details about what “it” looked like. Protecting my mind.
Where I’m At Now
It’s been 3 weeks. Physically, I feel almost back to normal. Emotionally? Rollercoaster. Some days I feel okay, like I can breathe. Others, grief just slams into me out of nowhere – seeing a pregnant woman at the store, a baby ad on TV. Trigger city.
Biggest realization? There’s no timeline for this. No “should be over it by now.” It hurts because it mattered. I lost something real. It sucks. Plain and simple. Talking about it helps, but only when I’m ready. And right now, it’s still raw. Taking it one painfully slow day at a time.
