That’s a lot of miscarriages. Bellow is the third of a 4-part-series I wrote about the early miscarriage I experienced last month. One of the main reasons I wrote this series was to help relieve some of the stigma surrounding miscarriage. So many couples go through this in one way or another, but it is so rarely spoken about. Most women I have spoken to about their experiences with miscarriages say that they had no idea what to expect once they realized they were going to have a miscarriage. Some were also not well informed about their options and later regretted the choice they made. I hope that this series will help women know some of the possible outcomes they can expect, as well as realize that they are not alone.
For the next two days I laid in bed much of the time and took Advil regularly (since Tylenol is a blood thinner). Thank God it was the weekend. I was also able to get up and help my husband with the kids some, but I was having contractions every few minutes. They were light enough that I was able to sleep through them at night, but strong enough that I felt exhausted during the day. I called the nurses hotline on Saturday evening again, just to make sure that I should not be going to the hospital to get the sack removed with a D&C. The nurse reiterated what I had already learned from the nurses at the Early Pregnancy Assessment Clinique, where I had the viability ultrasound, as well as from the midwife. I could stay home as long as I was not bleeding too much and did not have a fever. So I decided to wait until the weekend was over before choosing my next step.
On Sunday night I woke up in the middle of the night because my daughter had a bad dream. I took more Advil because I thought I was having pain. But then I realized it was pressure rather than pain. I thought, “Do I have to poop, or maybe this is it?” I told my daughter the former hoping she’d go back to sleep quickly, or at least to buy me extra time. I sat on the toilet pushed slightly and there it was. “Plop!” Into the toilet it went. My heart was beating fast, I felt relieved, and scared of what was in there, and not sure what to do next. It was the middle of the night after all and I was scared to deal with it right now. “Zip lock bag!” I ran to grab one, and picked up the sack with a rubber glove, making sure it looked whole and unbroken or torn, before putting it into the baggie. Then I sealed the bag, wrapped it in a towel and hid it in the back of the fridge.
Meanwhile my husband had gotten up to use the bathroom, and I had to stop him from going in while I got my bag. I didn’t want him to pee on it and flush it down the toilet, or more likely to freak out when he looked into the toilet and saw the sack. But then my daughter heard me warn him not to go into the bathroom. So she was calling me to see what was going on. After it was all done I had to go into her room and say, “Yes, I did have the miscarriage”. She knew what was going on all along the last few days and was also concerned and could sense my relief at having completed the miscarriage. We all went back to sleep. My thoughts were again, “Thank God”, but also, “What do I do with that thing. Is our baby in it?”
The next day, when I asked my husband what I should do, I realized he was more sensitive than I was. He felt sick at the thought of seeing the fetus. I felt scared and did not want to see it, but at the same time I was also very curious and could not just throw it away without checking first. I did not like the feeling of throwing away or flushing down a baby. I thought about it throughout the day, but also kept busy with my family. At some point when everyone was occupied, maybe when our youngest son was napping, I slipped into the bathroom with the baggie. I put on a pair of gloves. I’m not sure why, but I think having a bit of physical distance from the sack and potential fetus felt better to me. After cutting the sack open with scissors I was relieved to find only amniotic fluid. I appreciated the beautiful wonder of the amniotic sack, such strong tissue with veins running through it to hold and nourish potential life. The fetus had already deteriorated. I now felt complete and ready to throw away the amniotic sack. There was still more physical and emotional healing to do, but this stage was complete.