If you can read/translate Welsh, you’ll know what the subject line means. If not, I’ll explain it later.
In early February, I lost my baby at ten weeks naturally, the night I went to a friend’s from emergency after the brown spotting turned to red. I ended up flushing after examining it, but had I known I could have brought it in for analysis, I would have; a doctor who saw me when my regular one was away asked me why I didn’t. My baby hadn’t developed past six weeks, the external and internal ultrasound indicated.
Funny story about that, though, in the midst of this. I’d peed just before I had the first ultrasound, hadn’t eaten. So they couldn’t see anything. They told me to drink lots of water, and brought me a tall cup of it. Drank that and filled the cup again, drank that. After an hour, I was ready. Got the news that there was no movement, no heartbeat, so they ordered an internal. To do that, I had to void ALL of the water. It took what seemed like an hour, intermittently, to get rid of it all. I learned that day that my kidneys work 100%! 🙂
The father left me a month later after attempting couples counselling. After suggesting we try again the night after it happened. He also tried to comfort me by suggesting it was only a bunch of cells. One of those things you do not say, and I told him so. This was a man I was in love with for three years, but he never quite felt the same.
The good news for me is that I have now found someone who is just as in love with me as I am with him, and there’s renewed hope for a family (he’s almost 38, I’m almost 34), but I’ve been thinking and grieving more about my loss in the last couple of weeks because, had I gone forty weeks, baby would have been born the first week of this month. The week of its father’s birthday. Possibly why I ended up wandering into the local maternity hospital I may have given birth in, on the 3rd . And then this week of awareness came.
Everyone’s experience is different. I have managed to survive somehow… to hold back and hide the pain, I honestly didn’t feel it constantly… I went back to work on Wednesday after having the miscarriage on the prior Saturday night. Also lost my job after that… this contributed, but it was coming anyway.
We had names picked out too… Miranda if it was a girl (the other name than Amanda that can be shortened to Mandy), and we were thinking Michael if it were a boy. After the miscarriage, I named it Rohana Nathan Miranda D. (the D is the father’s last name initial). In Sanskrit, Rohana means ascension, healing and medicine, as well as the warriors in Lord of the Rings, which I watched two films of the trilogy with the father before and while expecting (finally watched the last film and finished it with current partner), my doctor mentioned the LOTR connection; I hadn’t even considered it when I found the name, it is unisex.
The father is of Welsh descent, so the subject line means “Remember baby Rohana Nathan Miranda D., ten weeks.”
I knew a miscarriage was possible, even probable being a pessimist, or a realist at least. The father’s mother even kept it in the back of her mind… but the father was confident after having a spotting scare with one of his two children that everything would be OK. The doctor told me the cramping I felt a few weeks in was normal.
Reading all the stories of multiple miscarriages and stillbirths is quite terrifying going forward, but there’s also a profound sense of comfort knowing I’m not alone in these feelings. I thought I was a trooper, doing so well… I didn’t cry much when it happened, the friend who helped me through it (the father had his young son and parents visiting, his son hadn’t known about our relationship but knew of me because of my occupation, so I couldn’t go to the father’s place or my apartment, apart from that it would have traumatized the poor little fellow, as it was Daddy was gone all day into the evening by my side in emergency) and she even found the plum sized sac and opened it for me because I was curious… she wept more than I did. I felt empowered that I did it naturally without the need of medical intervention, my body knew exactly what to do. And as I said, I went back to work within days and my coworkers and director were amazed. The kicker? I worked with children, I have a diploma in Early Childhood Education. Some of the parents asked me how I could handle it. I love children, they actually gave me hope.
Some quotes, and a web article that comfort me… there are two BBC programs that the baby’s father is a fan of that shared the same quote… Robin of Sherwood and Doctor Who. In Welsh, the first sentence is “Nid oes dim yn cael ei anghofio byth.” I’ll sign off at the bottom with it in English.
The other quote is in Klingon (I’m a bit of a geek): “bomDI’ ‘IwwIj qaqaw.” (Don’t ask me how to pronounce it 🙂 ) It means, “The memory of you sings in my blood.” And guess what? It’s true. It is a comfort (for me, your mileage may vary, it may creep you out, even) to know that this is actually true, a mother retains the DNA of each child she conceives
Music… another entry on this site mentioned “Gone Too Soon” by Daughtry… that one’s painful enough for me to even read, let alone listen to yet, but trigger songs for me are Wake Me Up When September Ends by Green Day… and most of all, Lullabye (Good Night my Angel) by Billy Joel. I managed to sing that no problem at karaoke, but when I got home and saw something on Facebook about this week, I listened to it again when I shared it, and promptly broke down. My boyfriend… my rock, my love… cried with me. Oh yes, and my boyfriend works in the same hospital that the emergency ward is in, different from the hospital I visited on the 3rd. I don’t have to go through some areas very often when I go there to see him off, bring him stuff, etc. but I do flash back when I do; they had to wheel me on a gurney through halls to the internal ultrasound room.
I’m thinking of you all, and hope you find healing and peace for yourself. Even if it’s slow in coming.
The quote in Welsh above? *Nothing is ever forgotten.*
In Doctor Who, the Doctor continues on, “… not completely.” And he says in another related quote, “The way I see it, every life is a pile of good things and bad things. Good things don’t always soften the bad things, but vice versa, the bad things don’t necessarily spoil the good things… or make them unimportant.”
Take care and be well.