Coping with my miscarriage

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While trying to cope with a loss such as a miscarriage, I’m trying to get back to my normal bubbly self. This has been a challenging task so far, but maybe if I write about it I can start to heal.

It began when I had a dream that I was pregnant. I don’t typically have such vivid dreams, so I took it to heart. The next day I got a pregnancy test and it came up positive. Of course I was in shock and disbelief, so over the next three days I took three more tests. All came up positive. This was definitely unexpected because I was not trying to get pregnant.

Three days later, I went to the emergency room for abdominal pains. I was told I had a urinary tract infection (UTI). They gave me a script for Macrobid, an antibiotic to treat the infection. They also had me drink Zithromax and gave me a shot that I was told was to treat in case I had any other infections. The very next day, July fourth, I went to work as normal. The last 15 minutes of my shift I went to use the restroom. I was having abdominal pains all day, but assumed it was no big deal and was related to the UTI. As I was finishing up in the restroom I saw some blood. This definitely scared me. I immediately left work, called my mom, and she took me to the emergency room.

They ran some blood and urine tests. They found that my hormone levels had dropped from 115 (July third) to 74 (July fourth), not even 24 hours had passed since they tested it last. I was diagnosed with Threatened Miscarriage, was given a script for Percocet, and sent home. I was devastated. I went home and immediately started researching threatened miscarriage. I found that a lot of woman who had the same diagnosis went on to have perfectly healthy babies. I prayed a lot over the next few days and tried to stay calm. I was desperately trying to stay optimistic. My abdominal pains were no longer present over the weekend, but I still had a brown discharge, no blood though. I was feeling good. I did research in the discharge, found its normal for some to experience this during the first trimester, so I was not concerned.

On that following Monday, July eighth, I started having bad abdominal pains again. I waited all day to see if they got worse before I went to the emergency room again. By eight o’clock I couldn’t take it any longer so I finally went in. The nurse must have thought I was a pill seeker because she kept asking me what I expected them to do for me that day since I was just there the previous Thursday and had received a script for pain medication, which I never filled because the pains went away. I was somewhat offended because she had to have looked at my file and knew the diagnosis from my previous visit.

The doctor on call that evening came in and asked me some questions, ordered more blood work and a urine test to be done, as well as a pelvic exam. The blood work reviled my levels had dropped again. I do not know by how much, but it must have been pretty low. A different doctor came in and told be the news, I was in the process of miscarrying. I was heart broken, all I could do was cry. I don’t even know what he said after that, all I heard was “miscarriage.” My heart just sank. After a few moments, he left and the first doctor came back. He knew what I was told and knew I was upset. He then performed the pelvic exam, I just laid there, numb. All I wanted to do was go home and cuddle with my dog. I didn’t want to speak to anyone, just be alone.

At this point there was still no bleeding. I had researched miscarriages before this visit and knew that during a miscarriage there is a lot of bleeding and terrible pains. So I had a good idea of what to expect. I got my pain meds filled and went to the father of my baby’s house. I wanted to be alone, but part of me felt it was a better idea to be around someone at that moment. We went to get something to eat so I could take a pain pill, hung out for a bit and went to bed. He was wonderful, we talked about it briefly and he held me all night. It was exactly what I needed. The next day was terrible. The pains were real strong and the bleeding was terrible. It’s a pain that I have never experienced before, and wish to never experience again. All I wanted to do was cry from the emotional and physical pains.

I have heard of woman who have gone through miscarriages and dealt with the grief, but you never truly know the pain unless you are unfortunate enough to experience it first hand. I’ve been taking the pain meds as instructed for the pain. I have to take at least one a day. Now the physical pain is nonexistent, nothing that wouldn’t be tolerable. On a pain scale, it’s a one or two. But I must admit, I’m still taking the pain meds. The emotional pain is far worse than the physical. I still take the Percocet, but now it’s to numb the emotional pain I feel. Even though this was an unexpected, unplanned pregnancy, I had already begun getting excited and anxious to hold my baby. As silly as it might be, at five weeks pregnant, I was already thinking of names. I’ve had my baby name if it was a girl since I was a teenager (I’ve always wanted babies), but was trying to figure out what I would name it if it was a boy. The father is half Korean, so I was looking for a name that would be connected to that aspect. I looked for the Korean translation for “miracle” because that’s what this baby was to me, a miracle. For so long I was under the impression that I would never be able to experience being pregnant due to a medical condition.

At first I was not excited that I was pregnant, but as the days passed by my excitement grew. I was happy to be having a baby. Even though it was unplanned and forced me to change my future plans (going away to a university for my BA in political science and attending cosmetology school in January), I was willing to make those sacrifices. I had also thought about how I’m not in a relationship or married, but my mind was at ease almost immediately because the father is someone I’ve been friends with for twelve years. I was glad that my unplanned pregnancy was with someone I care for deeply and trust.

Now I find myself, post miscarriage, depressed, taking pain meds to numb myself so I’m not locking myself in my bedroom crying all day. I have so many people in my life who care for me and are here for me whenever I need. But all I want to do is cry. I’ve tried to get back to my old routine; hanging out with my friends, follow current political events, etc, but nothing seems to work. I just want to feel like my old self again. I felt like I was on-top of the world. I was finally going to school for something I’m passionate about, meeting great people all the time, writing my blog, and just being around the new positive friends in my life. Now, the feelings I’m having are almost indescribable. I don’t bother putting in my contacts anymore or doing my makeup and I seem to never dress up anymore. My heels probably are feeling neglected after being in their box in my closet for the last two weeks.

I just want to be back to my old self again.

Everything happens for a reason, even if we never discover that reason. I do believe there is a plan for me, I just hope it doesn’t include anymore heartbreak like this.

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–Tattooed Liberty

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