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Emotions and Choices in Miscarriage

© Becky Jackson

It was 1993 and, after being married for two years, I was pregnant for the first time. My husband and I were that goofy happy type. We couldn’t wait to tell our parents and everyone we saw. I bought a pregnancy book to track the growth of our baby and to learn everything I could about pregnancy health and what I should and shouldn’t do. My husband made it a habit to talk to the baby at night in bed, speaking softly into my tummy about his plans for fishing, sports, and passing on every bit of wisdom and skill he had.

We went to the clinic at around 11 weeks into the pregnancy, very excited about hearing the heartbeat. We were surprised that none could be detected with the doppler, but the nurse assured us that it was very normal and we’d hear it next time. A little over a week later, I noticed a spot of blood and went to the hospital. Nurses tried in vain to hear the heartbeat again, and the looks on their faces worried me. The doctor couldn’t tell us much, except that this may or may not be an impending miscarriage and told us signs to watch for that would indicate hemmoraging. I went home and laid around on my left side as instructed. We prayed and were still optimistic and hopeful.

By the next morning, blood was flowing heavily and I was passing bits of tissue or clots. What felt like really painful menstrual cramps woke me up and prompted me to take some medicine for pain. I knew this wasn’t a good sign for the baby, but I couldn’t bring myself to accept it. We decided that the bleeding and cramping I was experiencing would need to be evaluated at the hospital. I was a scared 19-year-old, having never bled like that before, I was even afraid I would bleed to death.

At the hospital, the doctor confirmed what I dreaded hearing. Even amidst talk of “D&C” and “prepped for surgery”, I didn’t fully understand until he said “..and I’m sorry about the loss of your baby.”

After the D&C, when I was awake and alert again, I asked the doctor if I could see my baby. He seemed uncomfortable at that question, and told me that if I didn’t see it at home, it most likely just dissolved and passed as blood and tissue. I remembered at my last reading in my pregnancy book that the baby was around 3 inches long. I couldn’t believe that the miracle of that could be reduced to nothing. I wished I had something to show for my 12 weeks of pregnancy, for the love and excitement and morning sickness. I wished for the chance to say goodbye. But in an instant, it was all gone.

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