(Trigger warning. This post gets sweary, and a bit graphic. Discusses blood, dislocation and miscarriage.)
I missed writing this yesterday, I had planned to write it yesterday evening, but my partner was in the area and dropped by unexpectedly so my plans for my evening changed. I am glad I saw him, but I like trying to write these every day this month, and there aren’t many days left.
Fragile. I felt very fragile after loosing Emmet, and I was physicaly fragile for a while too. Miscarriage fucking hurts I have chronic pain and hypermobility, so I dislocate things pretty much weekly if not daily, my pain levels are pretty much at a solid 5-6 24/7.
I am not a stranger to pain and my pain tollerance is high AF, but I can honestly say that on top of all the emotional trauma that goes with it, miscarrying Emmet is the worst pain I have ever felt in my life (which is a lot).
I either feel WAY too much pain, or I am numb and have no sensation or movement. There are no in between patches on my body unfortunately.
Flare up days I sit happily at 7 to 8.
I’m not sure where I would have charted last October. There was so much going on emotionally as well. But when it first started I literaly crawled down the stairs to the shower, and was in so much pain I felt dizzy. I screamed into a towel for a while so that I didn’t wake anyone in the house up. Sort of wonder why I cared now. I’m pretty sure it ranks way above the pain I felt dislocating my ankle and hip and various fingers /toes at the same time after falling down the stairs, which I recall placing at 7, and physio telling me it was probbably more like an 8.5ish as most people only disocate hips in high impact crashes… They got a second physio therapist in to make sure they were right to chart it as a dislocated hip, rather than a severe or twisted sublocation, which I do alllll the time, as they couldn’t believe I managed it falling down 3 stairs. (I went to physio not A&E when I was in children’s because it happened so often and we have been taught to deal with dislocation ourselves, but after I have to have emergency physio for severe dislocation to ensure everything is where it should be. Fingers crossed it has been nearly a year since the last bad one. Whoop whoop.)
If anyone had asked, and had I thought of it at all, I would have said that I thought miscarriage took a day or so, and then it was all over, at worst it was like a bad period.
I had read that a miscarriage as early on as I was would be like a bad period, with some cramping.
I call Bullshit. I had a really early miscarriage and that wasn’t my experience. Mine lasted 10 or 11 days ish, (I forget exactly how long) with super awful bleeding and pain for the first 7 or 8, then it stopped than it sort of went on intermittently, and there was spotting on and off after.
If I had to sum it up it three words it would be Grief. Traumatic. Disgusting.
I never ever felt clean. I bled through pads and onto my clothes and bedsheets and generally it was fucking awful. I. Just. Wanted. A. Shower. All. The. Time.
I sort of knew that people were sad after, but I never thought that 8 months later the grief would sometimes still be intense enough to make you feel like you can hardly breathe. My mum has friends who I know have miscarried, and my Gran’s first baby girl died not long after bith. She is still upset 50+ years later, but I was still so so naive to the grief that accompanies babyloss.
I knew of the ‘wave of light’ that happens in October, due to some older friends on facebook, who I knew have had miscarriages posting about it, but I knew nothing of it. That’s what pisses me off so much about babyloss.
Why is there all this bullshit stigma? I hate it and it sucks, but do you know what sucks even MORE? Add it to the stigma of teen pregnancy. Boom. What a crock of shit.
Not only do I often feel fragile and emotional, I am not supposed to talk about it. It isn’t ‘supposed’ to happen, and if it does it happens to someone else. I am 18. I’m not considered responsible enough by many, nust because of my age they would want to disqualify me as not suitable for motherhood. Well my DBS check and my job as a forrest school teacher and multiple qualifications in first aid and safeguarding would tell you I am perfectly capable at looking after children thank you very much. I have a higher level equvilent safe gurding training than most teachers in the UK.
Sure, I’m not as settled as I would like to be, or as educated, or as healthy, I wouldn’t class myself as ready to have another child. Emotionally or in situation. Emmet was a surprise, but he wasn’t wholly unwelcome. I was scared, unprepared but also, particularly determined to do the best by my baby.
I learnt to walk again when they said I might not ever really leave a wheelchair. I am (well was, ish, just finished befire uni) back in full time education, my high school attendance I think was less that 40% for a while but I still achived good grades. I am no longer a straight A student, but I am still above average levels (apparently) even with a chronic illness.
My illness makes me fragile.
My emotions make me fragile.
The fact I am a soft hearted wuss sometimes makes me fragile. But also:
I am strong, and letting myself feel fragile sometimes doesn’t take away from that strength.
I am determined, and while I can’t parent Emmet how I thought I would. I won’t let others dictate how I honor their memory.
Surviving Miscarriage Together 