My Boy💙 8/26/22

I think the human body is wild. One minute you are growing a child - your body is changing, hormones escalate, nausea takes over every day. You can hardly drink anything because it all tastes horrible. Youre craving all the things you shouldnt eat. And your clothes dont fit.

All of a sudden, your body tells you it cant support this baby inside you anymore. The doctor says there is a bleed in your uterus - a subchorionic hemorrhage - and no one knows why, but its gotten bigger. The baby still looks good; growing, kicking, heart beating. But that doesnt really matter because your body doesnt like this bleed. Doctor says there is a good chance you will have a miscarriage in the next 1-2 weeks. So you go home, with a fear that something bad will happen. The worry that at any second, your body will fully reject this pregnancy.

A day later I wake up to cramps - is this my body trying to get rid of the baby or the bleed? The cramps turn into what feel like contractions. I time them: every minute, every 45 seconds, every 30 seconds. Then the pain gets so bad I can hardly move. I feel like Im in labor. Doctor tells me I need to come into the office. But my mom says to go to the ER instead. Shes on her way, and she will bring me.

Im in more pain now. Im starting to shake, feeling nauseous, turning pale. My mom rushes us to the hospital, and Im so uncomfortable. Im hot and sweaty.

My mom gets me a wheelchair. I cant see anything. I get into triage and all of a sudden, Im not in pain anymore. But Im gushing blood. Its a relief, but a scary one. What does this mean?

For a minute, I can breathe. Maybe the bleed cleared itself. Its time to go into a room now and get cleaned up. I go to remove my pants, but I look down and see something. I cant look anymore. My mom looks. She runs to get a nurse. I hear her say “she just expelled the baby.” And I lose it.

My mom loses it too. The nurses, doctors, techs, and others come in and say “it looks like you may have just had a miscarriage. We need to get the placenta out.” Im shaking. I cant look. I tell them not to make me look. They say thats fine, its totally fine. My mom is crying and stroking my hair. I cant stop crying. I cant talk. She says “he wasnt in pain, he was just sleeping. He was so loved.” And I will never forget those words.

That moment will stay with me forever. Because its not totally fine. It was supposed to be just a bleed.

9/2/22