Hello? Is this the doctor? Yes, I’m calling to let you know that I’m spotting.
I know there’s nothing you can do. I understand that medically speaking, it’s still very early in my pregnancy. Yes, I know that you want me to drink some water and rest.
I’m listening to what you’re saying, but now I need you to listen to me.
I know that this is very common among pregnant women, but it’s not a common occurrence for me. I’m not used to this feeling and frankly, I don’t ever want to get used to it.
Yes, I realize that this is out of my control. There is nothing I can do but wait and see. I’m not sure if you know this, but waiting for your dreams to pass is agony.
I caught your hint that it is the weekend. I’m sure you stepped away from a lovely brunch to answer my call.
Trust me, I wish I had no reason to call you.
I’m sure that you’ve fielded hundreds of calls like mine. I wonder if you have ever thought about how much bravery it takes to dial your number. Do you know how many times I attempted this call before finally hitting send?
Believe me, I know that there is nothing you can do to stop this from happening. But, maybe, you could find a way to show a little more compassion. You will only have to deal with me for a few more minutes.
When you hang up, I will still be here and I will still be miscarrying.
For me, this isn’t just a miscarriage. I’m not just losing a pregnancy. I’m losing a baby. If I lose this baby, I am also going to lose the chance at all of the dreams that I’ve dreamt for us.
My baby is dying and so are my dreams.
In a few days, you will help me deal with the aftermath of my miscarriage. You will order labs and perform examinations. We will discuss my options and you will share your vague reassurances that I should try again in the future. In an effort to be supportive, you will pass me a brochure on miscarriage but this will only remind me that I’m leaving with paper and without a baby.
I will then walk to my car, acutely aware of how alone I am. Just a few days before I walked with the purpose of life inside me. Now, I am deflated. Empty.
In time, the void will fill again. But, it won’t be the same.
I have lost my ability to ever feel truly fulfilled. There will always be a chasm. A hollow place in the shape of the baby I lost and the dreams that will never be.
Thank you for taking my call.
Photo by Sydney Sims on Unsplash
Hi, What an accurate and heartfelt post. You hit the nail on the head on how it feels when you are realising you are losing your baby and the dreams you had for that little soul. I am sorry you had to go through this. My heart feels for you as I have been through this twice as well. Hug!
This was exactly how I felt when I miscarriaged and you said it so well, right down to the phone call. The only difference was I was told to do a pregnancy test and they hung up on me after I swore at them.
Thank you for helping me to understand the new me I have been. I was lost for a while.
Couldnt be more accurate. This was literally my word for word conversation with my doctor when i started spotting. ❤❤
As many as 30% of miscarriages can be prevented as they are due to hormonal imbalances, structural problems in the uterus, infections, or genetic issues that can be treated. Therefore, we need to change the conversation from women needing to wait to seek professional help until they have had 3 miscarriages to getting diagnostics done before their first loss. If the pain of miscarriage CAN be prevented, we should work towards that goal.