“It feels like a toddler has rampaged on the LEGO structure of our lives.”
That’s what I just texted my husband, trying to explain how utterly destroyed everything feels right now.
Losing a pregnancy is obviously devastating. Physically, mentally, and financially, living through a miscarriage can be incredibly challenging. It hurts in a lot of ways I didn’t see coming. How do we move forward?
As you know from, The Terrifying Prospect of Having Another Baby and Trying to Conceive: Five Reasons The Second Time is Worse, we have been trying to have another child. I spent ten and a half weeks pregnant and miserable, but at least I had the comfort of thinking it was all going to work out.
Miscarriage Mixes Physical and Emotional Pain
Pregnancy is so very personal. Our bodies go through crazy changes. Growing a human is a very intimate thing.
The Physical Process
For me personally, the process of miscarrying felt painfully slow. When it started, I felt terribly nauseous (as I did the whole pregnancy), then the next morning I started spotting.
I tried to stay calm through a long, awful day in urgent care. Then, I tried to hold it together when they weren’t able to find heartbeat. I held back my tears after, as I had to sit in a crowded waiting room until my blood draw.
During the countless phone calls over the next few days, I was overly polite and apologetic, as I tried like hell to speak with a doctor about my options. My miscarriage slowly progressed over many hours and several days. I knew a dilation and curettage, commonly referred to as a D&C, would be the best choice out of some terrible options, given my situation.
After five full days of gradually worsening bleeding and cramps, after five full days of knowing all hope of this baby was lost, it was time for surgery.
Then came the physical recovery from surgery – more blood, passing large clots and contraction-like cramps. From everything I’ve heard about natural miscarriages after ten weeks, this was the “easy” route. I am lucky.
The Aftermath
When you experience a miscarriage, people want to talk about the emotional pain. The physical stuff makes people squeamish. There are a lot of things about the female reproductive system that we don’t talk about.
There is a real lack of understanding, unless you’ve been through it. The physical symptoms are completely connected to the emotional experience. It’s a gruesome reminder of reality. Your body is in hell, and your hormone levels make sure you also feel like your losing your damn mind. During this physical turmoil, you are also trying to process your emotions during a painful loss.
Those who suffer from depression and anxiety know it is very hard to separate out the physical symptoms. It’s a feedback loop. Mind and body are a package deal.
Dealing with a body in crisis has been a lonely experience. My partner, who is also experiencing a loss, can’t relate. I’m on my own with that part.
All the physical challenges of pregnancy are a result life growing in your body. The physical challenges of a pregnancy loss serve as a reminder that that potential life is gone.
Honestly, I feel like I am surrounded by death and decay. I feel like a fucking mushroom. I hate mushrooms.
Returning to Work After a Miscarriage
My body still feels like it’s in shambles, but it has been a week since my surgery, and I have a new set of problems.
This week, it was time to get back to the business of life. My husband has been back at work. I went back to work. Returning to work made me feel incredibly anxious (see previously mentioned hormone overload).
Like nearly every mother I know, my career choices for the past several years have been made based on maternity leave, and the scheduling requirements of caring for an infant/young child.
Having a family affects every aspect of what I do for work, how much I do it, and therefore, how much I earn. Choosing to become a mother WILL significantly impact your career. Every work decision I have made has been tailored to requirements of being somebody’s mother. Pregnancies are carefully timed and planned around the demands of work and our finances.
Life is laughing at my plans. It’s time to move forward, but holy fuck, that feels impossible.
The Financial Cost of a Miscarriage
With one brutal hit we lost the hope of our second child and our savings. Miscarriage happens in 15-25% of known pregnancies. It’s not fun to talk about, but it is a very common experience.
Another common experience in these United States? Crippling medical bills…
Nether my husband nor I have employer-sponsored health insurance. Our premiums cost nearly $600 a month, which pushes the limits of what we can afford (read: we can’t really afford it). While I am grateful that my family has health insurance, coverage isn’t great.
My surgery to complete my natural miscarriage cost us close to $7,000. That is a crushing expense. It will take a long time to recover financially. In addition, I missed out on income while out of work for a week. Since I work part-time, and I am not a high-earner, the medical bills are the real blow.
Like many of you, we have carefully tried to build a small savings, so we can breathe a little easier and maybe get some sleep at night. Once again, I’m so grateful that we had that savings, but this unexpected expense has taken a huge toll.
We were hoping that money could go toward having a second child, instead it vanished with the loss of that hope.
If we are going to continue to care for our son and consider risking another try at a second child in the future, we have to be extremely careful with every dollar. Maybe I should have reminded myself of that earlier this week when I spent a hundred dollars on deli meat, soft cheese and wine (sorry, not sorry).
Add it Up and What Do You Get?
Physically, I’m still recovering. Pregnancy hormones are still present in my body, which means I am still dealing with some pregnancy symptoms. I’m still at risk for post-partum depression and anxiety.
Emotionally, I am grieving a loss and experiencing the ripple effect of that loss has on all areas of my life.
Financially, we are at a critical point. The upside is, this means more posts about frugality! It feels like time to focus on the important stuff; frugality is a great way to do that.
Lastly, I want to apologize for my lack of silly GIFs in this post. Trying to include them was giving me major tone issues.
Please accept this as my formal apology.
To the many women who have lived this experience, my heart is with you. It’s not a club people want to be in, but if we choose to hold meetings anyway, I’ll bring the brie and wine.
***Final Note: The term “miscarriage” is total shit. It implies blame, where there is none. Pregnancy loss is a naturally occurring event, that is almost always beyond our control. It is still the commonly used word, so I needed to use it in this post, but I’m not fucking happy about it.***