Well, I used to be pregnant. I used to be 16 weeks and 2 days pregnant. I was feeling all the energy and normal-ness that returns in the second trimester. I was excited for our 20 week ultrasound next month, and a little scared too. And then I had the appointment. I immediately knew that something was wrong when the nurse couldn't find the heartbeat with the doppler. She played it off like it was no big deal and went to get the doctor who would surely find it. Meanwhile I lay there, as the words, "this is happening" repeated through my mind. Sure I let myself hold onto a sliver of hope as the doctor tried and failed with the doppler and proceeded to the ultrasound, but deep down I knew it was over. This pregnancy and all that I thought was happening was all kind of unreal now. I had been telling people I was pregnant and yet that little heartbeat had sputtered out 3 weeks ago. I kind of felt like a fake. I remembered each touch of the belly, anxiously anticipating the first butterfly kicks. It felt kind of silly now. I don't feel that way anymore. But, initially, there was this weird sense of embarrassment, like I had been fooled and perpetuated this trickery somehow. I don't know if that's normal.
I wasn't grief sticken like I felt might be expected. Don't get me wrong, I was sad, but I had a strangely practical approach. My sister had recently miscarried twins around 12 weeks and I was fully aware that 1 in 4 pregnancies ends in miscarriage and this was my fourth. I did feel some relief at the 12 week appointment when we finally found that little heartbeat and the doctor told me my chances of miscarriage just went down by 80%. However, I went to my 16 week appointment thinking there might be something wrong because I hadn't felt movement. That was the only sign of trouble. When they told me there was no heartbeat, I had the realization that this was actually happening. So many women go through this and now it was my turn so...now what? I never had guilt or thought I caused this somehow. It just happens and it actually happened to me, and yes I'm upset and sad but again...now what?
According to the doctor, I had two options. I could take a pill that would induce labor and actually go to the hospital to deliver this tiny baby/ fetus/ tissue. (I hope that doesn't offend anyone. Personally, I'm having trouble defining it). When I asked how bad the pain would be and the Dr. said they would offer me an epidural, that option was a no-go. I was left with getting a D&C. However, I would have to go to a specialist at a clinic because the baby/fetus/tissue was too big for my doctor to perform the D&C. I opt for the clinic, not really considering what this "clinic" might be like. I started researching and sure enough, it's an abortion clinic. Ok...that may be too general of a term, but it's a clinic where they terminate pregnancies and prefer to deal in up front cash transactions. I started freaking out. I absolutely hated the idea of going to a place where they did abortions and having a doctor who performed them. I had never imagined I would be put in this situation or that I would have such an emotional response to it. I felt panicked. I didn't know what to do, but after talking to a friend who had lost a baby at 17 weeks who had opted for labor and delivery, I knew that was not what I wanted. (Not sure why I can call my friend's a baby but have such a hard time labeling mine the same?) Feeling out of options, I kept my appointment at the clinic the next morning.
I can't say it was a mistake but I can say it was not the right place to send someone who just had a miscarriage. I felt so uncomfortable, a feeling that was only made worse by the paper work. There was a "Consent to Terminate Pregnancy" document that I passed over because it obviously didn't apply to me. But sure enough they had me come to the front desk to sign at the bottom. When I asked why, they assured me that it didn't apply to me but I still had to sign it. I wish I had fought back more, but I just wanted to get this over with. I signed it and sat back down and held back the tears, as some woman repeatedly told her crying toddler to "shut up". And of course there just had to be a woman there who, judging from her phone conversations and her meetings with the front desk staff, was trying to figure out how she was going to finance her abortion. I'm not judging these other people at the clinic. I feel like telling my kids to shut up all the time. I have no idea the details of this other woman's circumstances, but the whole setting was just wrong for someone in my shoes. I shouldn't have been there. Fortunately, it did get better after I got out of that waiting room. The nurses were some of the nicest nurses I've ever had. The doctor seemed compassionate and competent. I hated the idea that he was so "experienced" at this procedure but at the same time, it made it easier to trust his judgment to do the one day rather than the two day procedure. I avoided general anesthesia, and instead was given some psychedelic drugs that sent me to bizzaro world just long enough for them to do the procedure. It was way cheeper. And again, the nurses were great.
Of course I've been analyzing the whole "clinic" experience to death. I've read a lot of things in the past 6 months to solidify my pro-life stance, but my visit to the clinic made me realize that it is so much more than picking a side. I felt physically ill at the idea of being at a place like the clinic, as well as once I was actually there. I felt it in my bones and in my gut that abortion is wrong. At the same time, I gained a new perspective. I didn't just look from the outside and say this place is "evil" and all who work there are bad people. I felt the compassion of the nurses and doctor. I know they deeply believe what they are doing is right and that they're helping people. Probably as I deeply believe it's not. I can't judge them for interpreting things differently. I can't even confidently define what they removed from me -I get how blurry things can be. But, I also know how I felt and what I feel, and that it's not something I could ever support.
So what now? Well, I'm finding it's not as easy as I thought to just move on. I feel like emotionally I'm dealing with the loss well, but the physical effects of the D&C are lingering about, annoyingly. Also, I thought the absence of pregnancy symptoms would HELP me move on, but instead my little boobs just make me sad. Ha ha. Or the diminishing pooch that I'm used to rubbing at night, just reminds me that I don't have an excuse not to do sit-ups. I even miss the the throbbing of those varicose veins on my leg. So "moving on" is taking time, but that's good, right? It wouldn't be right to just go on like all this never happened. A lot of good has come of this little event in our life. It has brought Jimmy and I together. It has made me more aware of the friendships and the goodness of the people in our new home. And most importantly, it has made me even more aware of the presence of God in my life and the miracle of my three great kids. Thanks for listening to my story -this was very therapeutic!
-Holly
*After reading through this I just wanted to make it clear that I'm not trying to downplay miscarriage. Everyone's experience is different and any amount of grief is completely justified. This is me just being honest about how I reacted and handled it.
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