I had a miscarriage twenty two years ago and I’m still fucking mad about it.
I’m not mad it happened. I’m mad at how the whole thing played out.
After having three healthy babies I know how things work and I can see all of the obvious signs.
It started with spotting and a call to the doctor. Bed rest for the day call back tomorrow. I did that and then that evening I felt a gush and then there was bleeding. I know now my water broke. It was a long trip to the ER where my parents were waiting. Waiting and waiting in the ER for my doctor to respond. Eventually it was decided I was to be admitted and she would see me the next day. I asked if I had a miscarriage. They said there was still hope for the pregnancy. They lied.
After I was settled in a room Daddy finally went home. It was early in the morning and he needed to get some rest and take care of the cat because we left in a huge hurry.
When the nurse came around I asked when breakfast was and she told me I couldn’t have it because they were waiting to find out if the doctor wanted to do a D&C. I KNEW what that was. I asked “Did I have a miscarriage?” “Yes” she said casually as she went about her duties. I WAS FUCKING ALONE!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I ABSOLUTELY DO NOT BLAME YOU DADDY! It was NOT your fault. They had every opportunity to tell us while you were there. They didn’t. They lied and said there was hope when it was obviously in my chart.
The doctor didn’t show up until very late in the afternoon. Trust me I did not use her again.
This was my first hospital stay and my first time being put under anesthesia. I remember waking up with my legs propped up bent at the knees. I couldn’t see because they take your glasses. At that moment it was officially over. Our baby was really gone.
Why did they treat me like that? Was that normal? Was it because I was so young? Did they think it was an accidental pregnancy that didn’t matter? Was it just a compound of idiots? No one wanted to tell me the truth until that one nurse and at that moment I was not prepared for it. I had no one with me!!
As the date approaches I think of it. On that day I do not dwell on it because it is our daughter’s birthday. One year to the day that our Angel was gone I gave birth to our daughter. Twenty-one this year. Finally a drinking buddy! 😉
I can’t help but think while I write this that the anger is easier to deal with. It’s a distraction. I think about the pain and then I turn my thoughts to how I was treated instead.