I'll just say, right off the bat, I'm pro-life. I don't like to be preachy, so I also expect the same respect in return; that those who are pro-choice don't get all up in my grill about their beliefs, and why I'm wrong, and they're right, and how pro-choice is pro-women's rights and blah blah blah. I have lots of feminist friends, some are even male feminists, and we get along just fine as long as we keep the mutual understanding that we're never going to see eye to eye on some things. I'm also very open-minded. Born and raised as a Christian, I was taught to believe everything happens for a reason whether it's good or bad. That's fine. I'm older now, so my beliefs have definitely been customized to be my own instead of what I was told to believe or how I was told to think. But ever since I've been kicked out of two, yes, two different churches, both of which I was very involved in for 5 years each, it's hard to know what to believe. I just go by whatever I feel in my heart now. I don't subscribe to any religion, and I don't consider myself a "Christian" but rather, I just refer to myself as a believer (not to be confused with beliebers.) Anyways, I digress. Moving on...
In 2009, I started dating the man who would become my partner in life. I won't get into our story here because that's a story that deserves its own blog dedicated to how he turned his life around and how we turned our relationship around. We had broken up on October 29th that year, and I had been feeling a bit off, so I had asked him to buy me a pregnancy test before we ended it for good. You see, we had one of those juvenile relationships in our 20's where we'd break up then make up then break up and you get the picture. So the next morning, he stopped by with a home pregnancy test. It came with two. I took one, and it immediately became positive! At the time, I was living in someone's basement, so I had to go upstairs anytime I need to use the washroom, and I feel like I literally flew down the stairs running into my bedroom with the biggest smile on my face! For me, this was a sign that we were supposed to be together.
I had taken two just to be sure!
I took the day off from work after phoning my boss and telling her the news. She was actually very okay with me taking the day off because I wanted to see a doctor ASAP! We went to a medi clinic just to confirm everything (as if two positive pregnancy tests weren't enough hah!) and that came out positive as well. SO, it was official! I was pregnant!!! Immediately I started getting ahead of myself with gender and names and what the baby will look like... I don't know why it never occurred to me that it might not be a "forever baby" especially since when I was married, I had found out while I was in psychiatric treatment in California that I was pregnant. They needed to run a pregnancy test due to me needing meds and not wanting to harm the baby and all that jazz. It came back positive, but after a couple of weeks, I wanted to see a positive pregnancy test with my own eyes. I guess I just thought it would make it more real because for some reason, it felt so UNreal. The pregnancy test came back negative. I even took another, and that was negative as well. We went to an OB where they tested me again, and again, negative. We even phoned the hospital where the test had originally come up positive and they had no record of anything. They had explained that their system had crashed and so they lost some medical records. Geez. So I never knew what happened with all of that. It could have been a false positive, it could have been a missed miscarriage, it could have been a chemical pregnancy, who knows? Either way, I was very optimistic when normally, I worry about everything!
Things were going okay until November when my fiance and I broke up AGAIN. He had moved out, and I started cramping. I had posted on facebook that I was having these pains, and my friend and his fiancée offered to drive me to the hospital. They don't even live in the same city, and I only knew the male of the two. I had never met his fiancée before then... she might have been his girlfriend at the time... I can't remember. Anyways, they made the trip (not too terribly far out of the city) to come grab me and were even asking if I needed help walking... Just very very kind people, especially considering the fact that I hadn't talked to HIM in a while, but kindness is kindness... no matter what. They didn't just drive me to the ER... they stayed with me the entire time. I had an ultrasound and found out I was okay. I even got to see the heartbeat for the first time. I had also found out I was only about 6 weeks along.... it seemed a bit unusual, but I must have tested right when my hormone levels were where they needed to be in order to be detected by a pregnancy test. I also found out I had cysts on my ovaries which were the reason I was cramping. Where was the father of this baby anyways? Well, he didn't have a phone, and nobody was picking up where he was staying. I left him a message on facebook, but back then, he was a total jerk who thought I was faking the pain just so he'd feel sorry for me. It was disappointing because he missed out on seeing the heartbeat and hearing from the doctor herself that there was a reason for the pain. I asked if the baby was gonna be okay, and she gave me an answer that wasn't very satisfying "I don't know. It might, it might not." Thanks, doc! I went home, and I sobbed a little because I assumed I was going to be a single parent, especially since the father couldn't even be bothered to come to the hospital. All I know is, I'm still grateful to my friends who helped me that night. You know who you are. Thank you!!!
For a bit, everything was going okay again. At about 9 weeks, I was on speaking terms with the father again... but one night, I had gone to the bathroom and had some spotting. I figured it was okay cuz it wasn't anything too alarming looking. What WAS alarming was how I passed out after using the washroom... I had to crawl out of there and down the stairs and somehow get to my room. I felt better after some water, but I always feel like maybe I should have gone to the hospital that night. Not that going to the hospital would have changed anything had it been the start of everything, but still.
Christmas day rolled around. By then, my fiancé and I were talking about a relationship again and had started it back up. He even got me re-invited to his family's Christmas dinner. I don't really wanna go into all the details, but basically, there was a crazy misunderstanding, and no communication that day, and he and I ended up getting into a huge fight that night over the phone. I was hungry, and they hadn't even opened presents yet... so I was feeling a bit hangry (hungry+angry) not to mention hormonal. He hung up on me, which made me even more upset. I had no idea what was going on, so I kept phoning his sister's house where he was staying and where the supper was taking place. At one point, someone answered the phone and then hung up right away. That kinda got the message across that I wasn't gonna be going anywhere that night... well... I would... but not out to dinner. I started crying because it was not only clear that my boyfriend had just broken up with me on Christmas day, but also, that I was pregnant and alone on Christmas. Are you crying yet? Just wait. I started feeling chest pains, so I immediately phoned for an ambulance. They came and instead of evaluating me, they put me in a room where they keep the people who are on watch in the ER for mental illness. Why did they do that? Because they knew I suffered from anxiety and told me my chest pains were a panic attack. While I was there, they still took my blood and ran tests... but I was sitting alone, in a grubby room in the back of an ER, on Christmas. In all honesty... That room was where I belonged at the time because I didn't think anything could get more depressing than that. You have to remember that I have no family in Canada, and unfortunately I wasn't very close to my only friend because it's difficult to be friends with an ex who has moved on. The same ex I talked about in my addiction blog, and the same ex I'll be referring to as "my friend" in this one. I had no one to talk to and nowhere to go because it was Christmas and everyone was busy doing family things. When I got home via cab, which the hospital paid for, I cried some more... and some more... and basically just all night.
The next morning, I had to suck it up and go to work.. on Boxing Day. The busiest shopping day here in Canada. I worked at a shoe store at the time, and it was insane that day. I hadn't eaten since the night before Christmas (I was trying to keep my appetite for christmas dinner since I was told I had to eat or else I'd never be invited out to their family's holiday supper ever again) and I was also tired because I got home very late from the hospital. At one point, it was so crazy in the store, and I was such a snap show, that a customer who had been waiting to be helped for a while had asked if anyone was ever going to help her and I responded with "I'M PREGNANT, I JUST GOT DUMPED, AND I HAVEN'T EATEN ALL DAY!!!" I may have broken down a bit which I know is highly unprofessional, but the lady was actually very sweet and asked me to eat because I have a baby growing inside of me. So, I asked my boss if I could go grab some food. While I was at the store (I worked in a mall that had a drugstore near my store) getting food, I grabbed another HPT because I was so scared that all the stress was bad for the baby. At that point, I was 11 weeks and 3 days. The test came back positive, which made me happy, although at the time, I didn't know anything about miscarriages and hormones and all that like I do now. I had also finally heard from HIM... my new ex (who I'll be referring to as my ex in this blog post.) He told me he wasn't wanting to talk and just wanted to take a break from everything. *Sigh* I couldn't work anymore. I only had an hour left of work, but I left early because I just couldn't take it anymore.
The next day, I was talking to my friend (the ex from before) because we were sort of distant friends. We never hung out.... just emailed every once in a while. I don't really remember what I said to upset him, but he ended up telling me to not call him ever again. WHAT??? K, so, I lost my boyfriend, I lost my only friend in Canada... I was basically scared out of my mind about what was next to lose because all I had left was the baby I assumed was growing inside of me. I just wanted to crawl into a hole!
I refused to lose someone so special in my life, so I got in a cab and went straight to his house without asking. We worked things out, and I even brought the scrabble game he had bought me for Christmas. We were in the kitchen when I suddenly had to use the washroom. WARNING: GRAPHIC DESCRIPTIONS AHEAD --- When I wiped, I noticed a kind of pinky peachy tinged discharge... it was a bit watery and had an odd smell. Smelled a little like bleach. Was very strange, but I took it as normal because they say heavy discharge is normal as pregnancy progresses. In fact, in my pregnancy with my daughter, I always thought my water had broken too soon and was scared the same was happening again because of this experience. I also thought maybe the lighting was making things look a little off in colour. So, we played some scrabble... and I kept feeling this discharge leaking out of me and the colour kept coming off as a peachy colour. So I phoned the healthline we have available to us here. The nurse on the phone suggested I go in to the hospital. I kind of wanted to wait a bit because I really didn't wanna hang out in the ER again when I was just there! But then the cramps started coming. So, my friend offered to take me to the ER. He went to start his car because it was winter time, and that's what people do in the winter... they start their cars 10 minutes before they leave lol. While he was out starting his car, I went to use the washroom again. That's when my heart felt like it had sank because that's when it was no longer a peachy tinged discharge... but a bright red colour. It was blood.
We left, and I was shaking the entire way. I remember the cramps started to get worse and worse, and of course, a stupid train was crossing as we were trying to get to the hospital. UGH! We get there, and it's fairly busy. My anxiety started to pick up with all the sickos at triage. I got registered finally after I let some people go ahead of me who looked like they were in bad shape... but also... I just was scared of what I was going to be facing in the hours to come. On one hand, I needed to hear what was going on, good or bad... on the other... I just wanted to hold onto my baby for as long as I could. Even just the idea that there was still a baby living inside of me... that was all I wanted. This is the point where it becomes a bit more difficult to write, and at this moment, difficult to see because I'm writing through tears.
I had to use the washroom in the waiting room. I really didn't want to, but I needed to. Again, I wiped, and there was more blood, all the while, I'm continuously trying to get ahold of my ex. I even wrote status updates on facebook hoping he'd phone me or message me. I finally got taken to a "room" which was thankfully the one on the very end because the washroom was just across my bed. My friend stayed with me the whole time. He didn't have to... it wasn't his job to look after me, but he did. I made another trip to the washroom and the bleeding appeared to have stopped, but it didn't really give me hope. My friend, bless him, was trying so hard to be positive for me.
It felt like we were waiting forever, and after a couple of hours, I almost wanted to go home. My friend went over to the nurse's station and yelled at them. Finally, someone came and took some blood. The doctor came to see me. He didn't know anything yet, but of course, he's a doctor... he sees these kinds of things and worse all the time, so he had the attitude of someone who wasn't really affected in any way. That's okay, I expect that from doctors and nurses. My friend had to yell at the nurses again because it was just taking way too long. By then, I wanna say we were there for maybe 10 hours? It's a bit of a jumbled blur. Even in the middle of the night, I was trying to get ahold of my ex. I knew there'd be no answer, but I kept trying anyways, and it wasn't long after my friend yelled at the nurse that the doctor came back and explained everything. You see, since I had just been to the hospital a couple of days before and had blood work done, they were able to compare my hormone levels from Christmas to that night... unfortunately, the levels had dropped significantly which meant I had lost my baby. I thought I was going to cry that very moment, but I didn't... the words he was saying sounded like they were coming from far away and I had that thousand-yard stare.... like all of my hopes and dreams had been shattered into a trillion tiny pieces in one quick little second. My friend cried before I did... and then finally when the words the doctor had been saying hit me... I was sad, but it wasn't until I went on facebook where people had been waiting for an update when it really got to me... When I finally broke down.
Writing those words in my status "Rest in heaven now" made it more real than when the doctor came to give me the news I'd spent hours and hours waiting to hear.
I couldn't sleep, so I asked a nurse if she could give me something to help me sleep. When she came back with some Ativan, she told me she had heard what had happened and that she was sorry for my loss... it was the first time a member of the hospital's staff had acknowledged that I had lost my child. I can't remember if I thanked her, but I remember being grateful for her sincerity. My friend had the option to leave and if he chose to, come back in the morning... but instead, he chose to stay since the doctor wanted me to stay overnight to have an ultrasound once the real morning had come (by real, I mean not the middle of the night). My friend slept awkwardly on the chair beside my hospital bed, and though I was medicated, I kept waking up thinking it was all just a bad dream... but unfortunately, I kept waking up in the same place which meant it wasn't a dream. From my bed, I could hear monitors beeping, and nurses walking by and talking... I could see the window that was on the other side of the room, and therefore, could see that the morning was almost here.
At around 7am, I got moved to a different room. It was an actual room. I then had gotten taken to get the ultrasound done and asked my friend to come with me if he wanted to. He was in there with me and held my hand... I couldn't bring myself to look at the screen. I don't know why... I just couldn't. I was tempted, but I knew there would be no heartbeat. I knew they weren't looking for one. I knew they were only confirming what the blood test had already said to be true. My baby was no longer living, and the ultrasound confirmed it. A doctor came in to tell me everything. I can't remember if she had told me when the baby had passed away, but she had given me a few options. One was a D&C (dilation & curettage where they dilate the cervix and bring the baby out) to which I said no to because there are risks. The second option was a pill called Misoprostol which I would have to insert up my hoo-haw every 12 hours and it would induce labour, and then the third option was to let nature take its course. I chose option number #2. She gave me 3 pills and told me she'd only send me home with them as long as I had someone to watch over me in case I started bleeding too much. I said that wouldn't be a problem. I had also phoned my ex at around 8:30am at his work.... I knew he couldn't hide from me there, and I was right. I asked his boss if I could speak with him, they went and got him, and I finally had him on the phone. I told him everything. He didn't believe me at first. He thought it was some sort of sick stunt to get him to talk to me and be around me. I had to break it to him that this was real. He got off the phone with me, and my cell phone had died, so I was unaware that he was trying to get ahold of me to tell me that he couldn't stay at work. He was too heartbroken. This may seem strange considering the way he'd been acting, and when you read on, it gets a little more confusing.
Despite everything, I was starving, so my friend stopped and grabbed us some food on our way back to his place because that's where I thought I'd be staying. When I finally was able to charge my phone, that's when I had seen my ex was trying to get ahold of me. He said he wanted to be there for me, so my friend drove me home. My ex came to see me and then mentioned to me that he couldn't stay for long because he was going to be hanging out with a friend.... Uh.... WHAT??? Regardless, I had to take my first round of this pill, and within a half an hour I started cramping. But that wasn't even the tip of the iceberg when it came to pain. My ex promised to come see me the next day, and even though my friend had been taking care of me for 15.5 hours in the hospital, I had no choice but to ask if he would watch over me again. So, he did. I felt horrible for even asking, but he didn't seem upset. If he was, he didn't show it at all.
At around 5am, I woke up to intense cramping. I can't describe it, but it was like nothing I had ever felt before. I had to somehow make my way to the washroom. WARNING AGAIN: GRAPHIC DESCRIPTION AHEAD --- I had made it to the toilet with an urge to push... which I did. I was about to give birth to my child in a toilet... Can you imagine that? Can you imagine the guilt I felt for giving birth in the same place people go to... do gross things... I honestly was mortified at the whole situation, but even more mortified at what I saw as it was coming out. I actually screamed for my friend who was sleeping. He rushed in and held my hand as I pushed. Imagine going through labour and then having to get up and walk away from the tiny little body ... because if you had to live it, you wouldn't be able to sleep for the next few nights. As I was leaving the washroom, I felt sick. I was still in a lot of pain, and I was feeling very weak and lightheaded not to mention nauseated and emotional. My friend rushed to get me some water, but not before I rushed to the bed so I didn't faint on the basement floor which was cold hard concrete. I remember needing to breathe as if I was in labour. I'd get these waves of pain ... contractions. My friend was laying beside me holding my hand letting me squeeze as hard as I needed to, and he was trying so hard to help me calm my breathing to something that wasn't hyperventilation. I was also thinking "he shouldn't be the one doing this... this wasn't his burden.. this wasn't his baby" as well as "I'm going through all of this and yet my arms will remain empty when this is all over" Usually when you go through the pains of labour and delivery, it's worth it because you leave with a baby... But not this time.
I've never been able to thank my friend enough for what he did for me that night... well, actually, that week. My ex never did show up the next day claiming he had car issues. But on top of that, he wouldn't take my calls or answer my messages. I'd leave messages with his sister that he claims he never got... Maybe he didn't. It doesn't matter at this point. On new years eve, because I had to take a week off to recover as well as other things that happen when you miscarry, I thought maybe I was done with everything. I hadn't pushed anything out in a while, so I figured it was okay to finally start doing things. I asked my friend to dye my hair lol! Which he did, and he did a great job! I decided to get a piercing... so I went and got a vertical labret which looked super awesome at the time hah. I also went and got a little haircut at the mall and my friend bought me a shirt! I stopped in at work to say hi... I'm not even gonna lie, I went out in pajama pants and fuzzy boots wearing a toque over my head. I looked like crap hah! But wuddaya gonna do?! At least I was trying to move on with my life. Unfortunately while we were at the mall, I started feeling like I had more to push out. We booked it back to his place where once again, I was traumatized by what I saw in the toilet. It was frustrating because anytime it seemed like I was done, I'd find out soon after that I wasn't. What else was there to push out of me?? I don't even know. It was just... I can't even explain it.
We played Rock Band the Beatles edition (anybody remember rock band??) into the new year, and about an hour after midnight, I finally get a message from the ex. He was apologizing for acting the way he was acting. He said the whole thing sent him into a shame spiral because he realized how horrible he was acting, and that he wasn't there for me during the time I needed him the most. He seemed pretty depressed
We agreed to meet the next morning, so he came over, and I told him how I felt... what had been going on, and he promised to be there for me from then on... A promise which he kept. The rest of that part of the story is for a different post though.
After I miscarried, I had a lot of people telling me it was for the best or that it wasn't the right timing... that everything happens for a reason. And while that may be true, at the time, that wasn't what I wanted, or even needed to hear. I got so angry with some of my closest friends and even my mom and brother for acting like they were relieved. I was just angry though. I was angry at God, I was angry at my ex, I was angry at myself.. I was angry at the entire world!!! I couldn't understand at the time that maybe it was for the best, especially because if I had had that baby, I wouldn't have had my daughter! And my daughter is AWESOME even if she does act like a demon possessed toddler ever since she turned 3 (ugh) but in my heart, at that time, there was no good reason. I lost friends due to my anger. Thankfully I was able to gain them back after I settled down a bit and realized it wasn't their fault. They weren't being bad friends. My mom and brother even deleted me on facebook! Again, it's not because they're bad family members or friends.... it was because I had failed to see that they were only trying to comfort me the only way they knew how. But for the record, it's not okay to say things such as "it was for the best" or "your baby is with God now" because while someday, those words will be true or comforting, they also can be very angering and cause resentment towards the man upstairs... Because I wanted my baby to be with ME, not Him. And to lose all of that in just a few days.. one right after another... it felt unfair. It felt like God was picking on me. I kept asking what I did wrong! If I had eaten those days I didn't eat after Christmas, would my child have lived? If I hadn't stressed out so much over everything, would I be taking care of a different child than the one I have now? I don't know. Probably not. I even had someone (someone my fiancé had known) tell me I faked my pregnancy and faked the miscarriage. I tried explaining how that wasn't possible, but this person just would NOT believe a word I said. She kept saying I was poisonous for him and that I'd end up hurting him... It was horrible to go through all that I went through and have my pain invalidated by someone. It was so frustrating!!!
Let me break it down for you: When a woman finds out she's pregnant, she starts to dream about her child. She starts making plans and having hopes for what their future will be. I'm sure there are men out there who think the same way, but a woman becomes a mother the second she finds out she's pregnant. Many times, it's as soon as she starts trying to have a baby. Why do I think that? Because we're carrying another human being inside of our bodies. Every decision we make affects our unborn child. We start making better, and more responsible choices because it's not just "MY life" it's "OUR LIVES". We're already taking care of our child and bonding with them. They're comforted by the sound of our heartbeat and our voice. They're nourished by the food we put in our system. When we stress, they feel it. Then when they're big enough to start feeling their movements and their kicks, it's like these little signs that let us know they're okay, they're just making themselves comfortable. All of these things are thought of as soon as a woman finds out she's pregnant, and when that gets taken away, it's devastating. It is literally crushing our dream. So please think about that the next time you are trying to comfort a friend who has lost a child because it's helpful to understand where we're coming from.
I'm not, nor will I ever be happy that I lost my child, even though I have the world's coolest kid now.... it still hurts. It will always hurt. It just gets a little easier each year. I will always consider my daughter to be my second child even though I may never say it out loud. Someday, she'll know she has a brother or sister who lives far far away in heaven. When she's old enough to understand, of course. But right now, I'm just grateful that I had my rainbow baby, and I truly hope that anyone who has ever experienced the sting of losing a child whether it was a miscarriage, or a baby born still, or a baby that left soon after being born... whatever the situation, I hope and pray that your heart will mend or has been mended. I won't say there's a reason for everything. It's not my place to say because some day, everything will fall into place and you'll see it all for yourself. But if you're hurting from a loss, just get your feelings out however you need to. If you need to scream and cry and curse at God or whoever/whatever you believe in, then do it. And if you're someone witnessing a friend's loss, let them do that. It's what they need to do in order to heal. I know this has been a long blog... more like a short story, but if you actually read through the entire thing, then I thank you! And congrats for making it all the way, lol.
Until next time
Toots McGee!!!
P.S If there are any typos or grammatical errors, please excuse them. This was a hard one to write, and I kept having to stop to wipe away tears. I'll try and go through it later to fix any mistakes if there are any. Much love.
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