Miscarriage Story

I’ve started and stopped this story so many times. Not quite sure how I want to tell it…unsure of if I even wanted to tell it. But after many months of rough drafts, deleting, and secondary rough drafts, I think I’ve finally told it in a way that I like. I read somewhere that the story you are most afraid to tell is the story you NEED to tell. So here it is.

My fiancé and I have always wanted kids. Well…he’s always wanted kids. If I’m being honest, I wasn’t sure I wanted kids until after we started dating. I always hear a lot of these stories start off with the woman saying that she always wanted kids and she knew from the time she could think that she wanted to be a mother. I, on the other hand, went back and forth on the idea pretty much my whole life. I never put too much thought into it, but I always said IF I wanted kids, I would wait until after I was set in my career and was “ready”. Once my fiancé and I got settled into our relationship, I got to know him better and heard how he talked about wanting kids one day. I found myself wanting those same things. Knowing that he would be a good father made me comfortable with the idea that I could be a good mother. But I was still firm in my timeline. No kids until after we were married, had our own place, and I was set in my career. Well…sometimes life throws you curveballs.

I was supposed to get my period the second to the last week of April 2020…but I missed it. I tried not to think about it too much but I’m surprised I wasn’t panicking more. I would be lying if I said that I was nervous that I could be pregnant, but it didn’t become real until I was talking to my fiancé about it. He asked if I had taken a pregnancy test and I told him no, I hadn’t. The only reason I hat I eventually considered taking a pregnancy test was because he mentioned that my boobs looked bigger. Finally, after a full week past my missed period, on April 30th at 11:50pm, I took said test. Now, I only had one test and I wanted to wait until the morning so the test would be more accurate, but my anxiety couldn’t take it any longer. At this point my fiancé had fallen asleep, but I didn’t want to wake him for what I was *logically* trying to convince myself was going to be a negative test. Because I have PCOS and a Paragard IUD in place, the chances of me actually being pregnant was very, very slim. The IUD alone was less than a one percent chance! So when I saw that second, albeit faint, line pop up on the test…I was floored. I remember scrambling over to my fiancé and dragging his half-asleep body into the bright bathroom light. I pulled him over to the counter and showed him the test.

“I think it’s positive,” I muttered. We stood there for a few moments in awe before climbing back into bed. My fiancé asked me how I felt, and I had so many emotions come bubbling up to the surface. My first instinct was, “Oh shit I’m pregnant what am I going to do?” But there was a quiet little voice in my head that was…excited? I responded to my fiancé’s question with, “I think I’m…kind of excited? Terrified, obviously, but…happy.” And those emotions carried on through the entirety of my pregnancy.

The next morning, just to be sure, I wanted to take another test. But since I was out of tests, I had to drive to the store, without having gone to the bathroom first, and buy another pack.

And let me just say, having to wait to go to the bathroom until after you run to the store first thing in the morning, NOT FUN. Especially when the first store doesn’t have what you’re looking for, and you have to go to another store. But I digress… I was able to get my hands on another pack of tests, at which point I raced home. And just as I expected, that test came back positive as well.

Our next hurdle was to see if the pregnancy was even viable. Since I had an IUD in place, the chances of it being an ectopic pregnancy was very high. For those of you who don’t know, an ectopic pregnant is a pregnancy that implants outside of the uterus, most commonly in the fallopian tubes. An ectopic pregnancy is life threatening if not caught early on. The risk of a rupture and hemorrhage is too great on the mother, and the embryo would not survive an attempt to change its implant location. So the only option at that point would be to terminate the pregnancy. Since my work was in the middle of an insurance change, I wasn’t set up with a doctor, and didn’t want to have to wait weeks for an appointment. So I turned to Planned Parenthood. Over the next few weeks they were able to get bloodwork done to see my HCG levels, remove my IUD, and get in a few ultrasounds. The staff there was amazing and they had so much information to give me. After all of that, they were able to inform me that my pregnancy was in-fact viable and my hormone levels were raising as they should be!

After they Planned Parenthood told me my pregnancy was viable, I scheduled one final appointment with them for a dating ultrasound. I remember walking into that appointment feeling super light and airy. Like I was just floating from one place to another. The tech dated me at five weeks and five days. SUPER early. I remember being so…giddy. I couldn’t believe that I had beaten all these odds and wound up with a viable pregnancy after every potential obstacle. I asked the tech for a picture, and walked out of the clinic pure bliss. I felt on top of the world. I was having a baby. I was going to be a mother. My fiancé was going to be a father. We were going to have a family. It was such an incredible feeling.

Now, the staff I saw at Planned Parenthood did let me know that since I had an IUD removal during pregnancy, there was a thirty percent higher chance that I would miscarry (compared to seventy percent higher chance if I did not remove the IUD). So the thought that I might miscarry was in the back of my mind, but I never thought it would actually happen. In fact, I barely thought about the idea that I might miscarry. I thought about it so little, that we started telling people pretty much right away. We started telling the people we live with on mother’s day weekend. And slowly notified other’s that we spoke with on a regular basis. I wanted to wait until after my first appointment to tell my parents and all my family, but it was so difficult to keep it a secret. I ended up telling a few of my friends a few days after my last appointment at Planned Parenthood. Finally, about a week after mother’s day weekend, we caved and told our loved ones the good news - we were going to be parents!

Once my new insurance though work kicked in, I scheduled my first appointment with a full OBGYN. Or, what I thought was a full OBGYN. Turns out, they are technically a “Women’s Clinic”. So for them, that means that patients normally see midwives rather than the actual doctor, and their resources are a bit limited. One of those laking resources was the ability to do ultrasounds in house. They have to refer patients out to another facility to get scans done, and that means having to go through another scheduling processes to get in to be seen. Looking back now, I definitely think that there were red flags (both with the facility and with my midwife) but in the moment it was all so new…I didn’t know any better. Part of the reason I chose this clinic was because they were the closest one to my house that accepted my new insurance, and even they were thirty minutes away with no traffic. I booked an appointment and figured if I didn’t like them after an appointment or two, I would just switch to a different one. My appointment was May 26th. The appointment itself went… fine, I guess. I asked some basic questions, and the midwife seemed knowledgeable. I specifically asked her if I was a higher risk pregnancy because of the IUD removal and my PCOS. She flippantly stated that I was not and moved along with her questions. I partially felt that she brushed my concerns aside, but also felt that since she was the professional I should trust her judgment. So I, unfortunately, dropped the issue. Before the appointment was over my midwife put in an order for basic prenatal blood work and an ultrasound to see how far along I was. I told her that I already knew the gestation from Planned Parenthood and showed her the ultrasound picture I had. She glanced at it for half a second, then gave it back to me. She stated that we would just redo it because Planned Parenthood wasn’t, and I quote, “blessed with the radiology gods”. She then gave me the information for their recommended imaging center and went on her merry way.

So on May 29th I trekked up to the imaging center with my fiancé. The facility seemed decent; clean, organized, comfortable. Our ultrasound tech was super friendly and walked us through the whole scan and what she was measuring. She was very chipper and welcoming. She informed us that it looked like I was five weeks and six days along. That surprised me. Because that’s only a one day difference than what Planned Parenthood had estimated me at, and that appointment was a few weeks ago. But again, I didn’t have the experience that I do now to ask questions, and the tech didn’t seem concerned. I honestly figured that maybe Planned Parenthood did estimate my dates wrong. The tech said so far it looked great and printed out a few photos for us to take home. Once I got those photos I couldn’t stop looking at them and I felt that blissful feeling come over me again. Any concerns that I might have had quickly flew out of my mind.

The rest of May was pretty uneventful for the pregnancy. Besides pregnancy cravings and extreme exhaustion, there’s nothing really to report. But during the first week in June, I got a call from the imaging center saying that they wanted to schedule an appointment for the repeat ultrasound my midwife had ordered. I told them that I just had an ultrasound last week and wasn’t sure why there would be an order for a second one so soon. The front desk told me that the order did not give a reason why there was a need for a second ultrasound, it was just a new order. Since ultrasounds were not covered by my insurance (they were considered “diagnostic” instead of prenatal care) and we were paying out of pocket for them, I told the front desk that I wanted to make sure a second ultrasound was something that was necessary before scheduling an appointment. They understood, and we ended the call. Unfortunately, I wasn’t able to get a hold of my midwife’s office until the following week. And during the time between my conversation with the imaging center, and my call with the clinic, things started to go south.

I remember the day so vividly. My fiancé was at work and I woke up a little later than I normally did. I had already planned on reaching out to my midwife’s clinic to ask about the second ultrasound, but when I saw the brown spotting in my underwear that morning, I suddenly had other concerns. I called the clinic right away and let them know that I was spotting. The woman I spoke to asked me a few follow-up questions and then told me that spotting is very normal in early pregnancy. She then followed up with, “However, if you are going through more than a pad an hour, you need to go to the ER”. My brain stopped at that statement. It just felt weird…they said there was nothing to be concerned with right now, but then said that I might need to go to the ER if it gets worse. After a few moments of silence, they woman asked me if I needed help with anything else. My brain snapped back into gear.

“Yes,” I stumbled, “Could you see why I have an order for another ultrasound? I just got one done last week”. After some searching the woman said that, based on my chart, there was a “discrepancy” is how far along I was. Basically, my hormones were showing one gestation, but the ultrasound was showing another. At this point, although I was nervous, I was still hopeful. I didn’t think I could actually miscarry. I was sure that this second ultrasound would clear things up and then I could relax. After I got off the phone with my midwife’s office, I putted around the house trying to keep my mind busy. But the next time I went to the bathroom, I saw that the spotting had gone from small amounts of brown to small amounts of bright red. I called the clinic again and let them know what was happening. The woman on the other end very nonchalantly said, “Okay we will get you in for some blood draws to look at your hormones. Can you come in this afternoon?” Of course, my answer was yes.

Over the course of the week, my spotting became more of a light period. I would get the tiniest cramps, but it was never extreme. I went in for two blood draws at the clinic. The first one was the afternoon I spoke to the women’s clinic, and the second one was a few days later. The plan was to get the second ultrasound on Friday morning, and by late Friday afternoon, we should have the blood tests back as well as the ultrasound report and have an idea of what was going on. They swore to me, up and down, that HCG tests are very simple and only take twenty-four hours to come back. Well, Friday rolled around and it did NOT go as planned.

My fiancé and I went to the imaging center Friday morning and wound up having a different not-so-warm-and-welcoming tech. Honestly, she was borderline rude. When she told me to undress from the waist down, she turned around like she was going to leave, but then started fiddling with her computer. So I undressed with her in the room…which was odd. Once I laid down on the table…it was like I wasn’t even in the room anymore. She didn’t talk to me, didn’t acknowledge me…and when I would ask her a question she would very curtly blow it off. I remember asking her, “Oh, how early can you usually hear a heartbeat?” To which her response was, “I wouldn’t know that”. Excuse me?? You wouldn’t know that? You went to school for this and you can’t tell me when it would be normal to hear a heart beat? I know that techs are not allowed to give information about what they see on the screen and that a doctor has to review it, but she did not handle it well. Honestly, if she was going to lie about why she couldn’t answer my question, she could have done it better. And THEN, when we were done, she placed some baby wipes on my stomach and said I could get cleaned up. Didn’t hand me the wipes. Placed them on my stomach. And then turned around and fiddled with things on the counter while I stood there with my pants off, baby wipes in hands, and ultrasound jelly in between my legs. I was beyond done with her at this point. After I got cleaned up I all but ran out of that building. We drove home in silence and my head reeling. Before, I left ultrasounds feeling relaxed and content. But this time I was nervous, upset, and confused.

I waited the rest of the day eagerly by my phone. Wishing for it to ring. The minutes seemed to tick away faster than I realized and before I knew it, it was 4:30pm. My midwife’s clinic closed at 5pm and it was a Friday. Which meant if I didn’t speak to someone today, then I wouldn’t be able to speak with someone until Monday. So at 4:45pm I called and was able to persuade the receptionist to get a nurse or PA ( I can’t remember which) on the phone. I asked if wether the blood test or my ultrasound was back yet. She told me no. Nothing was back. I begged her to give me anything from my chart. I told her that her office, her colleagues, even the lab had told me that we would know by today what was going on. They said that they would definitely have the blood test back because HCG tests only take twenty-four hours to run. But alas, it was over that, and still nothing. The nurse apologized, but sounded tired of being on the phone with an emotional pregnant woman. I told her that I needed to know if I should still plan on having a baby or not. I said that my spotting had increased and I was now cramping. But the woman on the other end remained distant. I specifically remember her saying that I could be miscarrying or having a subchorionic hematoma but that “we don’t have answers right now” and I would have to wait until Monday. Monday. I asked her what I was supposed to do until then and she said those robotic words that I hated hearing, “If you are bleeding through more than a pad an hour you need to go to the ER”. “I cannot afford an ER trip”, I told her. We went back and forth a few more times, but ultimately it was no use. They didn’t have any answers and it was like talking to a brick wall. So I hung up the phone.

June 14, 2020. Two days after that awful phone call with the clinic. I woke up for work at my usual time, made it to work with no issue. Nothing out of the ordinary that I could tell. At least, at first. But throughout the day I noticed that my bleeding was different. It was still fairly light, but now I was seeing…clots. They were tiny at first. At lunchtime they were only the size of a kernel of corn. Then about an hour later they increased to the size of a blueberry. By 5pm they were the size of quarters. I slowly became more and more terrified. But I still wasn’t bleeding very heavy, and I was at work so I figured I would just work through it. I didn’t have time to freak out. All the while my cramping was slowly increasing. Slowly becoming stronger and more frequent. Then, at around 5:30pm, I stood up from my desk and felt this gush of blood in my underwear. I stopped cold in my tracks, I tried to stay calm. I was in the middle of sitting with a customer and didn’t want to make a scene. But with every few minutes it felt like there was more blood. I finished up with my customer as quickly as I could and scooted off to the bathroom. When I finally made it into the stall, I looked down to see what appeared to be a murder scene in my pants. And it kept coming. As soon as I got myself cleaned up there was more blood. I sat there for a few minutes in shock. Surely this couldn’t be normal? Surely this was something that needed attention? I called my fiancé and tried to keep a steady voice as I told him what was going on and that we needed to go to the ER.

Once we checked in at the ER the staff got us back right away. I will say, as much as I hated being there, the staff was incredible. They wasted no time getting my vitals, asking my personal history, getting history on the pregnancy. They got my blood, urine, and started an IV fluid drip faster than I realized what was even happening. And more importantly, they listened to me. I felt heard. My worries were validated. Unlike with my midwife I had been seeing. Unlike the people that were supposed to guide me through a healthy pregnancy. During my time at the ER they ran a few tests and also completed an ultrasound. Honestly, most of the night was a blur. I was exhausted and in so much pain. I thought it was just harsh cramping, but it turns out I was having small contractions. It was the most pain I’ve ever been in, both emotionally and physically. Then, after a few hours of sitting, waiting, contracting, a nurse practitioner came in to do a pelvic exam on me. It only took her a few minutes to tell me that she thought I was miscarrying. And the ultrasound - which showed a uterus full of blood - confirmed that. It was not long after that that I passed my baby. I didn’t actually get to see the baby. Honestly, I’m not sure I would have been able to make anything out since I was so early. But while my doctor was doing another pelvic exam, she said I had a “very large clot” attempting to come out. After about a minute of contractions the “clot” passed and the nurse scooped it up in a urine sample cup and swept it away. Almost immediately my contractions and bleeding slowed. That’s how I knew that the nurse didn’t just sweep away a clot. It was my baby. My body wasn’t contracting anymore because my baby was gone. That was the first moment that it became somewhat clear to me what was happening. That I came here pregnant, but I would not be leaving pregnant.

By the time we were discharged, it was close to eleven o’clock at night. I basically went home and went to bed. I was too tired to process anything emotionally. I don’t even remember if I cried or not. Everything was hazy for…a while. I remember feeling blindsided and betrayed by my own body. Why couldn’t it do what it was supposed to do? I also remember looking for answers. I requested all my medical records for the pregnancy from both the women’s clinic and the imaging center. I spent so much time combing through them trying to find ANYTHING that would point a finger at the cause of the miscarriage. But I was unsuccessful. What I did find, however, was the radiologists reports for my ultrasounds. The first ultrasound I had with them showed a heartbeat. Sixty-two beats per minute. Looking back, that is far too low for a growing fetus. It should have been about 120-180 bpm, but hindsight is twenty-twenty. I also saw a note from the radiologist saying that there was a 4mm subchorionic hemorrhage. This is a small blood clot that forms in between the placenta and the uterine wall. Usually subchorionic hemorrhages bleed out on their own and don’t have any lasting effects on a pregnancy, especially if they form early in pregnancy. There’s really no cure for a subchorionic hemorrhage, but sometimes the doctor will recommend pelvic rest so it does not increase in size. An increase in size can cause the placenta to fully detach from the uterine wall, and ultimately, a miscarriage.

Now, there’s no way for me to know what caused me to miscarry. If we want to look at numbers, women with PCOS are three times as likely to miscarry, an IUD removal increases the chances of miscarrying by thirty percent, and a subchorionic hemorrhage holds about a twenty percent of miscarriage. My pregnancy loss could have been caused by one, all, or a combination of these, and there’s no way for me to know what happened. I do, however, feel that the women’s clinic let me down. I reached out for help and assistance and I was met with belittling attitudes and feeling like my care was not important. At my first appointment, when I brought up my concerns about possibly being high risk due to my PCOS and IUD removal I was not listened to. When they saw the report of my first ultrasound and found that I had a subhchorionic hemorrhage, they could have alerted me that I should have been taking it easy. Especially since I was already spotting/bleeding. Because I was not aware that I had a hemorrhage, I continued doing my high intensity workouts and did not hold back on my job that requires me to be on my feet for ten hours a day. I looked into taking legal action, because I felt the clinic’s negligence was that severe. It turns out when you fill out all the new patient paperwork for an OBGYN there is a consent form that, basically, says you won’t sue them. So that idea was trashed pretty quickly.

Ever since my miscarriage it’s been hard…to say the least. I have struggled with trying to understand what happened and why it happened. I had so many mental breakdowns and mood swings that I barely recognized myself. I think I’m still learning how to cope with the grief. For anyone going through this or something similar, just know that there are so many women that have experienced the same thing and you are not alone in this.