My Missed Miscarriage Story |what is it, how long it took & how I found out.

2020 was a challenging year, and then it got harder. Studies say 1 in 4 pregnancies end in miscarriage. I never thought I would be part of the 1 in 4. Honestly, I don’t think anyone imagines they will ever be part of that statistic.

I didn’t even know about the 1 in 4 until I was faced with my own miscarriage. The reality is when you get pregnant or start trying; you google things like “how to have a healthy pregnancy, which prenatal is best, do’s and don’ts while pregnant.” 

You don’t search “what happens if I miscarry.” Not until your faced with it yourself, and then a whole new world of information opens up.

However, no amount of research could’ve prepared me for what happened after I heard the dreaded words “I can’t find a heartbeat.”

Going through a miscarriage is not only physically painful but mentally and emotionally draining and completely isolating. Add a global pandemic, and you have quite the shit storm.

I’m sharing my story because it’s part of my healing process. I’m sharing my story because miscarriages are always surrounded by silence. And if opening up about my experience helps just one person not feel alone, then I think it’s worth it.

I also want to share as many details as possible as it pertains to a Missed Miscarriage because the other thing I learned through this process is that there’s not just one way to have a miscarriage. And even though my experience is unique to me, I hope this brings some comfort in knowing you are not alone if you’re experiencing something similar.

Finding Out I was Pregnant

The night of October 14th, I took my first pregnancy test. There was a very faint line on the pee stick. I told my husband about it, he was excited I was nervous, but I wasn’t sure what the faint line meant. So I decided to wait until the next morning to take another test. Again it was just a light line, so I wasn’t 100% sure. That night, I headed to Target and bought a digital pregnancy test and waited until the morning to re-take it. We both woke up early, and after 3 minutes, we had our answer plain as day YES+ we’re pregnant!

We were so happy. It’s crazy how quickly your mindset changes, and you start thinking and planning for the future. That same day I scheduled an appointment with an OBGYN and calculated how far along I was, 4wks and 3 days.

First Ultrasound Appointment

When your pregnant, the doctor doesn’t see you until your 8 weeks along. So I scheduled the appointment for November 10th. Up until then, I had been feeling fine. I was tired and running to the bathroom every five minutes, but that was about it. I also had a little bit of spotting, but it was nothing to worry about from what I read online.

It’s funny because the morning of the appointment, I told my husband I was excited and nervous because I didn’t feel pregnant. Up until this point, everything felt like it was just too easy. I didn’t have any nausea or food aversion. Even us getting pregnant was easy. Once we decided to start trying, we were pregnant within the month. But I’ve also read some women have really easy pregnancies, so I thought maybe I’m one of the lucky ones.

When I scheduled the appointment, they said my husband could come in with me. And with Covid running wild, I thought that wouldn’t be the case. So I continued to consider myself lucky. Little did I know I was hours away from the biggest heartbreak of my life. 

No Heartbeat…

Once I was lying down, and the transvaginal ultrasound was well underway, I knew something was wrong. I didn’t hear a heartbeat. I thought maybe the sound is off on the machine. The doctor started measuring what she saw on the screen, and then she finally broke the silence. You see this right here? That’s the sack, but I don’t hear the heartbeat. It’s measuring 6 wks and 5 days and should be measuring 8.

The moment I heard those words, it felt like someone sucked all the air out of me. I got an instant headache from holding all my emotions in and from trying not to cry. My throat was dry as the Sahara desert.

I heard her say we’re going to do some tests to make sure and I will see you next week. The moment she left the room, I fell into my husbands’ arms and started to cry. But almost immediately, I gathered myself because I wanted to be out of that room as quickly as possible. We go to the front desk to schedule our follow-up, but I couldn’t remember what the doctor said. I was so distraught the receptionist had to go ask the doctor herself.

I was instructed to go to the lab for some blood work. The doctor wanted to measure my HCG levels that same day, which was Tuesday. In two days, I was to go back for more blood work to measure my HCG levels. The next day I received an email from the doctor that said my “HCG level didn’t go up very much and looks like it is consistent with the pregnancy not growing. I will see you next week to confirm it.”

The Longest Week of My Life

From feeling happy for my first ultrasound ever to no heartbeat to HCG levels not going up to, I’ll see you next week. Next week felt like an eternity. I cried more times than I could count, but I was also holding on to a slither of hope that I would go in next Tuesday and the doctor would find a heartbeat.

The doctor’s office called me the day before my appointment and said due to the COVID numbers going up, I’d have to go by myself this time. No partners will be allowed. I felt like my luck had run out.

Tuesday, November 17th, I’m in the cold room again, this time by myself. The nurse asks, how are you doing? Anxious, I say. I lay down the doctor starts searching and measuring. Sorry, the fetus is still measuring 6wks and 5 days and still no heartbeat. I’m sorry the baby stopped growing. It’s called a missed miscarriage. Basically, the fetus stopped growing, but your body still thinks your pregnant.

Tears roll down my face. She says I’m sorry again. She tells me that this is very common. There’s nothing I did wrong, and there’s nothing I could have done to prevent it. Many miscarriages in the first trimester happen because of chromosomal abnormalities, and this is nature’s way of correcting itself.

I’m Given My Options

• Expectant Management: I go home and wait for nature to take its course. Apparently, the tissue can pass naturally, but it could take a couple of weeks.
• Medical Management: I take medication that helps the process move along.
• Surgical Management: Usually, a D&C wouldn’t really be an option for me because it’s considered elective surgery, and COVID is still happening.

I tell her I want this nightmare to be over as soon as possible. She prescribes me the pills but emphasizes that it will most likely pass on its own in a couple of weeks. 

I run down to the car where my husband was waiting. He asked, “How did it go?” and I just blurt out, “it’s a repeat of last week. There’s no baby, no heartbeat.” He holds me.

The Waiting Game of a Missed Miscarriage

I’m giving a follow-up appointment in two weeks. So I decided to wait a week to see if the baby and tissue pass on their own. Every time I go to the bathroom, I’m reminded that I’m carrying a dead baby inside me. I’m spotting, but there’s no bleeding; there’s no miscarriage happing yet.

So on Tuesday, November 24th, I decided to take the medication that will allow me to end this nightmare once and for all. So I can move on to the recovery phase.

30 minutes after inserting the pills, I start bleeding, nothing too crazy, but I can feel the cramps coming on, so I take the prescribed 800mg of Ibuprofen. Soon after everything escalated, the pain was excruciating, the bleeding heavier. I had a sleepless night, but I feel better in the morning, so I think the worst is behind me.

I think to myself, maybe the tissue was amongst the blood clots I passed last night. That was Tuesday night. After that, I thought my body was recovering because, for the following two days, I was lightly spotting. By Friday, I started bleeding again, so I thought I had gotten my first period after the miscarriage.

Boy, was I wrong,

Too Many Unknowns with a Missed Miscarriage

Around 4 am, Sunday, November 29th, I wake up to excruciating cramps and massive blood clots. I still thought it was my period. They say your first period after a miscarriage is heavier and more painful than before. It continues for 2 hours until finally, it subsides, and I’m able to get some rest.

The next day at the early hours of Monday morning at 3 am. I am once again awakened by terrible cramps and blood clots but a little bit smaller than the day before, so I’m thinking, okay, it’s getting better.

Later that Monday at 2 pm in the afternoon, I’m feeling fine, no cramps, no heavy bleeding. I go to the restroom, and as soon as I sit, something just fell out of me. There was no warning. I take a look and immediately know that what I’m looking at is my baby. I scoop it out, I wash it, and save it. 

I’m not sure what a fetus is supposed to look like at this stage, so I googled images. I’m shocked I was not expecting to see it, to recognize it. I spent what felt like hours just staring at it. Wondering what happened, what went wrong…Questions I will never have the answers to.

Wait, it’s not over yet.

I had my last appointment the very next day, December 1st, 2020. The doctors’ office calls and says that partners are still not being allowed in, so I go by myself. I thought it’s okay, it’s over. She just needs to clear me.

And boy was I wrong yet again,

The doctor makes me lay down to take a look inside and says, you still have pieces of the placenta and tissue left inside. She says I can give you another dose of medication, and you go home and wait for it to pass, or I can just go in and take it out. Both options are uncomfortable, but you can be done today if I go in.

Without a second thought, I say, “I want this to be over.” And without further explanation, she says, let me go get my tools.

I was not prepared for what happened next. 

Maybe I should’ve asked questions, or perhaps she should’ve prepared me for the pain she was about to inflict on me.

The doctor propped me open with a speculum and then proceeded to scrape out what was left inside. The process was uncomfortable, painful, and I could literally feel everything she was doing. There was no anesthesia or pain medication offered.

Once she is done, she has to make sure I am entirely cleared by performing a transvaginal ultrasound.

Remember when I said I had run out of luck?

Yeah, there was still some left inside way up high in my cervix after all of that. The doctor says she has to go back in, and I brace myself once again. I hold on tightly to the edge of the bed. I try to take deep breaths to deal with the pain. Tears start rolling down the side of my face as I lay there, feeling every little move, poke, and scrape.

She’s done. Now one last transvaginal ultrasound to make sure. I’m cleared. She wishes me a happy holiday and knows she’ll see me again soon with good news.

What Just Happened?!

I am broken, completely, and utterly broken. I can’t move. I’m in shock, what just happened. My eyes are filled with tears, but I have to get dressed and get out of here.

I stagger down the hallway to the elevator. I make it to the parking structure. I have to pay for my parking. I’m so disoriented I can’t figure out how to pay. God bless the security guard who literally saw me struggling, walked over, said, “may I?” and took the credit card from my hands, and processed the transaction for me.

I make my way to the car, and the moment I get in, all the emotions explode. I was angry, sad, and alone. I was in pain, physically, emotionally, and mentally.

And yet, I had to pull myself together and drive home.

This was the worst day. I can’t even start to explain how much pain I was in. I cried on the floor for hours until Drew got home and held me in his arms. 

That was the end of the miscarriage, but it would be another month before my body fully recovered.

I’m Still Grieving

My heart and soul, on the other hand, are still grieving. I have my good days and my moments of laughter, but I also have moments of sadness. Every time I look at social media, someone just had their baby or is announcing their pregnancy. We were going to announce it on Christmas. And though I am genuinely happy for everyone, it makes me sad because I wish that I was too.

Now more than ever, I understand that children are a miracle. That you and I are walking miracles because so many got their angel wings too soon.

If you are going through something similar, I want you to know that you are not alone. And that whatever feelings you are experiencing, they are valid. I am sending you so much love and hugs. My heart is with you.

I’m not looking for sympathy, but I am spreading awareness for so many of us who suffer in silence way too often.

If you feel called to share your story in the comments, please do. So many others need to know that they are not alone.

My Heart is with You! 💖