My pregnancy was unplanned, so why am I so heartbroken over this miscarriage?

Guest post by Stef Thompson
Miscarriage rememberance necklace from Etsy seller SweetPeasStamping
Miscarriage rememberance necklace from Etsy seller SweetPeasStamping

Dear Child [Not the one who gives me huge sloppy kisses, but the other one inside my tummy],

We’ve had a pretty odd beginning. Other women will tell you that it was their tingling breasts, missed period or some odd intuition that they ‘just knew’ they were pregnant. For me, not taking a dump in four days was a sign that something was up.

One bulk pregnancy test purchase later, I got a sign I didn’t need. Two lines, mocking me inside the toilets of McDonalds.

Some women cry for different reasons over home pregnancy tests; anguish over yet another negative result or perhaps joy after months or even years of trying. I’m not sure why I cried but a few days later, there were a few more sobs at the doctors office with the official news that I was up the duff.

Your father’s response wasn’t quite what I expected either. I thought a normal reaction to this sort of news would have been “Fuck” or maybe even an “Are you sure?”

The announcement of your existence was met with an “I TOLD YOU I HAD SUPER SPERM” followed by “I should text my best mate, at least he got six months of trying before his wife fell pregnant”. After I let Daddy marvel at the strength of his semen, we had to decide what to do with you, the unexpected womb visitor.

The rational part of my brain ticked over all the reasons why we needed to say goodbye, but then by golly those hormones got to me and all I could think was Babies, babies, babies, NOW! Everywhere I looked there were pregnant women and babies.

Don’t they look so sweet and cute? I’d think to myself, I could totally do the whole motherhood thing, hell I already have a part-time kid care of your father.

I would like to say it was the experience of seeing your bean-like outline on the screen but honestly the only thing on my mind was willing the moment the radiologist would stop pushing that metal wand thingy into my full bladder and let me go pee.

I’ve been trying to get used to the feeling that my body isn’t entirely my own anymore. I wake up tired, I grow more tired throughout the day, then I go home and take a nap before pulling myself off the sofa to go to bed for the night. Not to mention the constant nausea, regular vomiting, and my little b-cup breasts exploding seemingly overnight into giant D cups a few weeks into this journey.

Your Dad asked me what it’s like being pregnant and the only description I give was that pregnancy is like having a permanent hangover after not sleeping for a week.

That feeling of being stuck with hangover has meant I chowed my way through many Whopper meals, my favorite hangover food, way more than either of us would have liked. While we’re on the topic of ‘bad food’ I apologize for putting you in mortal peril by eating my way through the following banned foods: brie, sushi, sashimi, smoked salmon, raw cookie dough, ham, homemade ice-cream and tiramsu. But hey, at least I’ve stayed away from caffeine and booze so I’m not really that bad a hostess right?

But as it turned out, I was a bad hostess.

Just as I was getting used to the concept of being pregnant and excited about being your mother, week 13 hit. For most women week 13 is the time they get to relax as the “danger time” for miscarriage has passed.

My week 13 involved getting a bad sign in the middle of nowheresville Australia and bouncing from one hospital to the next trying to find someone who could give me a good sign. Instead, the doctor confirmed what I already feared was going on: my pregnancy hormone levels had already plummeted, which meant you weren’t alive anymore.

It’s odd that I should feel that my heart is broken into a million tiny pieces over your short existence. At first, all I could think about was how all the drama in my life, lack of space, and astronomical lawyers bills made Plan A, abortion, the only real option.

But when the time came to start making the arrangements, I couldn’t go through with Plan A. Why, you might wonder? I suppose it was because even though you were a huge surprise and your timing was really crappy, on a certain level you were desperately wanted.

That moment of knowing was much like your existence, so brief I’m pretty sure we almost missed it. But one day your daddy rubbed my tummy and asked “How’s my baby?” with his cheeky grin. I think that’s the point when we both decided that no matter how bad the timing, Plan A had just be torn to shreds.

But now it’s me that feels like I’m being pulled to shreds. I’m sitting in a foreign land with a dead fetus in my belly, feeling so alone. The only comfort is that even though this pregnancy ended in disaster, at least I have no trouble with the getting pregnant part of the procreation process.

Someday hopefully not long from now, I’ll be holding a healthy child in my arms and the pieces of my heart will be put back together again. Except for the one piece you’ll always have.

Love from,

Comments on My pregnancy was unplanned, so why am I so heartbroken over this miscarriage?

  1. Thank you for sharing your heart and your story. I think sometimes folks forget that loosing any pregnancy is emotional – it doesn't matter if the loss is early or late in the pregnancy. It doesn't matter if the loss is from choice or happenstance. It is still a loss, and grief is normal. Thank you for reminding us all of this. Oh, and many *hugs*.

  2. Through your humor, I can see & feel your pain. I just had a miscarriage as well and I know how terrible you feel. Hang in there, grieve the loss. We did some rituals and writing to help us through. I know we will conceive again too! Best of luck : )

  3. Through your humor, I can see & feel your pain. I just had a miscarriage as well and I know how terrible you feel. Hang in there, grieve the loss. We did some rituals and writing to help us through. I know we will conceive again too! Best of luck : )

  4. I do that too, the whole I should be so far along today. the due date will be coming up here in December and I just don't know what I will do. Our stories are so similar. I hope you are feeling better and I am so sorry for your loss. I also like to think of the bright side, at least now I know that I do actually want kids and I know we are actually able to get pregnant when we want to (before my short pregnancy the dr's told me it would be extremely hard to conceive, they were wrong). Again I hope you are feeling better now and you will be in my thoughts.

  5. It will be fouryears this December. I still think "my baby would be three years old right now if…"
    It got easier, but it is a pain that I will never forget.
    My heart goes out to you and thank you so much for sharing with us.

  6. That brought tears to my eyes..
    I have no clue what it feels like to be going through what you are going through right now.. all I can offer is a hug. I’m in Perth, most isolated city in the world, nowheresville, Western Australia. Find me and I’ll hug you.

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