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The Day I Became a Statistic – Part 2

If you have not read Part 1 of My Story: The Day I Became A Statistic… click here.

I had a miscarriage.

Why?

This can’t be happening.

Breathe.

Take a deep breath.

Pull yourself together.

You have to stop crying.

You can’t cry in front of the girls.

These Are The Thoughts…

These are the thoughts that raced through my mind as I attempted to compose myself. I had a miscarriage but I needed to pull myself together to go get my husband (who was in the parking lot with our girls) before I could discuss anything further with the doctor. But how? How could I tell my husband that there was no longer life growing inside of me? How could I tell him with my little ones listening from the backseat? I didn’t want them to know and I for sure did not want them to repeat anything to anyone. But he needed to know.

I don’t really remember getting dressed and making the walk to the parking lot. When I got to the car (somehow maintaining my composure), I told my husband he needed to come inside. He was hesitant at first because he needed to get to work. I told him again that he NEEDED to come inside with me as I started to take the girls out of the car. As the four of us walked hand in hand back to the doctor’s office, I looked at my husband and over my daughters’ heads and I whispered to him everything was not ok and we were not going to have a baby (it might have been different words but everything at that point was a blur). Besides losing some color in his face, he did not say a word or show much emotion. When we walked back into the office they were waiting for us. The office staff offered to watch the girls and had paper and pencils ready for them to play with so the doctor could speak to my husband and I.

The Sound Of The Door…

The sound of the door clicking shut behind us as we entered the exam room was deafening and triggered a cascade of tears and full body shakes. I cried and cried and mumbled what happened with the ultrasound as my husband held me as we waited for the doctor. When the doctor walked into the room, I pushed my husband away and we began to discuss my options. I had to decide what we were going to do. What I was going to do. Was I going to wait for my body to naturally push the baby out? Was I going to take meds to speed up the process? Or was I going to have the surgical procedure (D & C) to remove the baby from my uterus? For me the answer was a no brainer. I had to schedule the D & C. With my husband working long shifts and me being with my daughters 24/7 with no family or friends around to help, I could not risk experiencing a miscarriage and having no one close enough to help me. I didn’t know if I would experience severe cramps or excessive bleeding and I did not want to find out.

Once the decision was made, the train inside my brain came barreling down the track at 300 mph and there was no stopping it. Is this really happening? Why? What did I do to make this happen? When am I going to have the procedure? Who was going to watch the girls? Am I making the right decision? How are we going to keep this a secret? Can I act normal… like nothing is happening? What does this mean for my future? What do I do if my girls see me crying? Can I pull myself together? Can I make it through the rest of the day without crying in front of the girls?

When The Doctor Left The Room

When the doctor left the room to finalize the date and time for the surgery, I forced myself to try and focus. I called my mom to tell her I was pregnant… then told her I had a miscarriage and that she would have to take the day off of work to come up from the city to watch the girls so I can have a D & C. It was not the phone call I ever imagined I would make and I am sure it is not the one my mom thought she would receive.

After that, everything is a blur. I remember making hubby go back outside with the girls because I didn’t want them to be with the office staff for so long… and crying when he left the room. I know the doctor eventually came back and told me I was on the schedule for Monday… and I cried again. Once I was done talking and crying with the doctor and nurse, I told myself I was not allowed to grieve and my girls could not see me cry. I had to be strong. I took a deep breath, wiped the tears away from my eyes, opened the exam room door, walked into the waiting room, gathered my paperwork and checked out.

That was April 15, 2016.

MamiWorks

My name is Michelle and I am the wife of the hardest working man I know, the Mami of 3 beautiful and AMAZING girls and a Pathologists’ Assistant turned Stay at Home Mami turned Mompreneur of not one… or two… but three businesses! I am super excited to share my experiences and learn from you. As women/moms/entrepreneurs, we must stick together and support each other!

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2 Comments

  1. Sorry about the hard time you had to go through honey. I’m glad you were able to stay strong for your family and that you are healthy! I know someone that had several miscarriages before she finally had a healthy baby and how hard it was for her. Some things are out of our hands but how we deal with it is the only thing we can control ❤️

    1. Thank you so much for your kind words ❤️. Going through this situation was one of the hardest things I have have dealt with and writing it has been just as hard. Having a support system and being able to talk about it without feeling like it is taboo is also very important because there are so many women who have had similar experiences.

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