Today’s post is written by South African mom blogger Karabo from Black Mom Chronicles
I am a 28-year-old healthy woman who had a successful and memorable pregnancy three years ago. Three years later, I am a woman that carries the scar of losing her unborn baby.
I can still remember the denial I went through at the first sighting of blood. See, I write parenting content for a living, and pregnancy is a big part of that work. I am, therefore, informed enough to know that the cramps I have been experiencing for the past few hours were okay. Until I saw blood.
“This is not supposed to be happening,” were the words in my head, when my mouth was saying something else. “Everything is fine” was the vocal reassurance to those around me. Never to myself.
The news left me numb.
And hearing hospital staff hollering ‘missed miscarriage’ as one reports my case to another hit blows in my stomach. I missed it. I had no idea that the life I thought was growing inside me had stopped.
The single most disappointing moment of my life as a mother. My job is to protect my children at all costs. Then this happens to remind us of the limited control that we have in this life.
When I wrote about Chrissy Teigen’s miscarriage, I shared the story of a woman that has experienced eight miscarriages. Eight consecutive times she watched as her body dispelled traces of her pregnancy.
After hours of sitting at home, experiencing labor pain, and watching as one blood clot followed another, my body dispelled my pregnancy.
The gynecologist visit that followed my initial one confirmed that the miscarriage had now been complete. The Dr’s assistant said, “oh good news, no theatre”. If the miscarriage had not been complete, I was required to do a dilation and curettage (D&C) to remove whatever was inside the uterus.
But, it was terrible news for me. All I heard was “you’re not pregnant anymore”.
And therein lies the mindblowing moment of being pregnant the one moment, and not the next, and there is nothing you can do to stop it.
I have been here before with the passing of my parents. I am all too familiar with grief and the whirlwind it is. I have not experienced fresh grief in my adult life. Here I am, waking up every day with the intention of living because this here is a defining moment. I have the option of choosing to be crippled by the grief, or to keep moving.
I choose the latter at every waking second of my day and continue to share the story because we draw from each other’s light.
Every day I take steps towards a place that hurts less than the current one. I will get there. We all will.
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