On March 14th, I was carrying a 5 week old fetus inside me. On April 1st I contemplated telling people “I’m Pregnant!” as an April’s Fool day joke, but decided against it as I think I’ll be bombarded with questions (for real) and also, my parents didn’t want me to tell everyone, so I didn’t.
But some of you guys closer to me knew anyway, which was something I never regretted – thank you for the support both before and after the news – and when friends did ask, I couldn’t lie and say no right? In fact I was beaming with joy most of the time.
Right now, I’m at my doctor’s.
I’m waiting for my op/procedure, which is termed as a D&C – Dilation and Curettage – to remove the fetus from inside me. Not that I didn’t want it anymore…. It just stopped growing.
Yes, I was pregnant. The fetus died.
On the 12th of April, I joyfully drove over to my doctor’s for my 2nd scan, and greeted him chirpily, asked him a few questions and got on the scanning station – only for the doctor to grimly tell me minutes later that he didn’t have very good news for me. I was supposed to be 9 weeks odd along, almost hitting 10. But the fetus stopped growing. I was crushed, I was sad, and I was alone (the husband had a meeting that day) but… Having read a book, and of course knowing about a few friends’ situations made me somewhat prepared for it. Somewhat. I understand why it happened, and that it wasn’t my fault, the doctor reassured me it wasn’t anything I ate, or did, and I told him amidst hot pouring tears… I know.
But I still never expected it to happen to me.
I hastily scheduled the appointment with the staff (they let me cut the payment queue cos i had tears streaming down my face) and left because it was kindda hard to hold it all in… looked around for a quiet place to break the news to my husband, and I found the stairwell – which I later realized that everyone downstairs could hear, and probably heard me me sobbing like a ghost for the past 15 minutes. Gah.
I spent some time outside (especially in the car, tears ebbing out of me like I was in some Korean drama) and managed to compose myself, somewhat. I guess the $26.90 japan imported strawberries I’ve been waiting for all year I bought from Isetan helped a bit.
When we broke the news to our family… everyone insisted on a second opinion. And so I did.
The very next day, I went to another doctor, I got another more intensive scan (It’s called the 1st Trimester Viability Scan) which gave me a clearer view and time of death (I feel so morbid saying that), but the conclusion was the same. My baby had no heartbeat. It is dead. In fact, this is gonna sound morbid, but it’s been dead since week 6. Which means it’s been inside me for about 26 days odd.
Honestly, I would be surprised if the second doctor had a different result for me – I would have been thoroughly confused. Cos I was counting weeks, comparing online ultrasounds, this and that, and it was impossible for the fetus to be so small at week 9. I knew what was the answer – everyone just wished to hear something different. I don’t deny that I wanted to, too.
The question people ask… (and so do I question myself sometimes), is Why?
I don’t have a straight cut answer for this. Neither did both the doctors I went to, one who said “It is an abnormal pregnancy. Chromosomal abnormalities.” – to which I said, I understood, and the other who said offered a similar explanation, “It is an extremely complicated process. As long as one step is wrong, there will be an abnormality. Sometimes, if lucky enough, the mother’s body detects that there are chromosomal abnormalities early, and her body will send antibodies to stop the pregnancy before it develops any further.” The real reason (like, will my baby have 12 toes it it goes on? Or down syndrome? Or…?) will be an eternal mystery to me.
But here’s a textbook answer from a really useful website (askdrsears.com) a mummy friend shared with me.
“At least half of all early miscarriages are due to chromosomal abnormalities in the fetus so severe that growth cannot continue. Other, less common causes of early miscarriages include infections, endocrine deficiencies (especially of progesterone), rare immune system abnormalities (mother makes antibodies against the placental tissue), and exposure to environmental toxins (such as teratogens), drugs, or cigarette smoke.
Late miscarriages are more likely to be due to structural abnormalities of the uterus (for example, a uterus divided by a wall of tissue) rather than genetic abnormalities in the baby. Fortunately, these abnormalities affect less than one percent of women. Other causes of late miscarriages are abnormal attachment of placenta, uterine fibroids (benign tumors), an incompetent cervix, infections, or endocrine disturbances.
For around a third of all miscarriages, the cause is unknown. Miscarriages are not caused by sexual intercourse, safe exercises, heavy lifting, hanging pictures, doing your usual amount of work and play, a minor fall or accident, or stress or emotional upsets.”
If you ask me how do I feel… I feel defeated. But I will be fine.
I just happened to be one of the 20% who miscarry. Why me, right? I don’t drink, I don’t smoke, I stopped using nail varnish, I didn’t dye my hair after I knew. Heck, I even brought in an air purifier.
No one expects this to happen to them – but please, I don’t expect sympathy, pity, or comfort. I’m not writing this to get any of the above. I just want to share, for you guys to know (because there are too many people to explain to), and for people who are grieving as well, in the same situation as I am, to know that this is actually a really common matter (20%, that’s 1 out of 5), and that they’re not alone. I’m fine with friends, but I feel EXTREMELY upset if my friends feel sad for me. The moment my mum told me that my dad was very upset… I couldn’t stop my tears. So please, if you see me, don’t ask unless I mention.
I am alright, and I will be. After all, I am considerably young enough (I can say that for the next 3 years, haha) and I can always try again. It is better, to have the pregnancy terminated by my body itself than to have the baby grow bigger, get attached to it and then find out that it has down syndrome and then you’ll be making even harder choices.
I thank my loving husband for being there for me, my family (and in-laws) for not blaming me and my friends who have shared my grief, and especially for showing me love by meeting up with me, accompanying me and even sending me flowers and a balloon. Special thanks to a mummy friend who has offered me great advice and care. 
I know I am loved, dearly.
Thank you guys.
I will be away for a while, to recuperate. I’m sorry for the absence of posts in this time. Comments will be screened, for the haters who want to bring me down when I’m at my lowest, don’t bother.
Originally published at www.evonnz.com. You can comment here or there.
