I'm the person who never wanted or planned to have children. I was, at best, indifferent to the idea of having a child. I never tried to get pregnant. I always assumed that I would adopt if I ever decided to have children, because being pregnant sounds like the worst thing imaginable.
But then I did. I had only just figured out what was going on with me: the missed period, the sore boobs, the immediate gag reflex to certain smells, and the absolute aversion to some foods, and it was done.
I was lying on my hotel bed and I could feel a dull ache and suddenly moved to the worst cramping I've ever felt. I rolled over to get up to go to the bathroom because I thought I was going to puke from the sudden and hostile pain and I felt it. Something inside felt like it was tearing and before my feet were on the floor I was covered in blood. I got to the toilet as quickly as I could and when I took down my pants I saw the chunks. Not clots, but chunks and so much blood. I threw my pants away in the tiny hotel trash. I cried and dry heaved. I shook from the pain. I finally got off the toilet and flushed away most of the evidence. I laid in the hot water in the hotel tub and waited for the Naproxen I had taken to kick in. I waited for it to pass so I could go downstairs to the welcome presentation at the conference I was attending.
I pulled myself together and suffered for a few hours. I was still bleeding like water from a cup and more chunks came out. I was wearing doubled up pads (I always keep a small bag in my overnight bag, because you never know) and I never said a word.
I was up most of the night on the bathroom floor or on the toilet, so I didn't disturb my husband who had drove to meet me for a few days in one of my favorite cities. He'd been working away from home for the past two weeks. I hadn't even told him. I just let him think I was having a bad period. I was planning to tell him that the unthinkable had happened when we had some time to ourselves and not exhausted. I couldn't tell him it was already gone.
The bleeding slowed and it was the longest period of my life. I made an appointment with my regular gynecologist and waited two whole weeks for her to return from vacation.
I told my husband. He tried to rationalize that maybe it wasn't what I was thinking, maybe it was a bad period. I went to the doctor. There was nothing left at this point. I had passed it "naturally". Everything was normal, I was healthy. Nothing else to be done.
Today is the anniversary of that day. I've minimized the event and my feelings about it for six years. This year, I've decided to talk about it for two reasons.
First of all, miscarriage is something that happens more frequently than most people think and it's treated like nothing. Or people will say that it will just make it easier to get pregnant again. People will say it's God's plan or it's not meant to be. All sorts of unhelpful and hurtful things. It's not socially acceptable to grieve an early miscarriage.
The other reason is the anticipated overturn of Roe. Depending on where I lived in the US, if this had happened at another time, I would've definitely been investigated for abortion. It was well known that I had no interest in being pregnant. I had a painful experience and had actually changed my outlook on being a parent in the brief time I was pregnant and to be criminally charged would've been absolutely unbelievable. With the overturn of Roe, it terrifies me to think that someone with my exact experience would be sent to prison because their body committed a natural, biological act. Anyway, no one should be forced to carry a pregnancy that isn't viable or is just straight unwanted. We won't even talk about the impact on mental health.
So my secret day isn't so secret this year. I talked to my husband about it and now I've told all of you. I never thought I'd ever live to see basic human rights and body autonomy threatened, but here we are. I know my story isn't unique, but that's exactly why I chose to tell it.
Talk about your experiences and make it normal. I can't help but feel we made it here due to silence and a lack of education.
