The Mixed Emotions of My Miscarriage

And the injustice of the loss of bodily autonomy

I have two babies. My husband and I carefully planned each one, and I took good care of my body while we were trying to conceive. My family felt complete as a party of four: my husband, our two daughters, and me. 

My husband wished for one more. 

When our second daughter was 5 months old, it seemed that my husband’s wish had been granted.

With my body still not quite fully recovered from growing and giving birth to my newborn, and still using my body to nourish her by breastfeeding, I missed a cycle. 

Given that I was on what they call the mini pill, it was not entirely out of the question that this form of birth control would fail. I just wasn’t prepared to see that stripe pop up indicating a positive pregnancy test. I was convinced that the results were incorrect, so I tried a second test. Also positive.

The craziest part of this was that it took us over a year to conceive our second daughter. I had actually made an appointment to begin the infertility diagnostic process and then had to change it to a prenatal visit! To seemingly conceive so easily felt unreal. 

The shock from this revelation was overwhelming. My second pregnancy was hard, and I wasn’t sure if my body could endure it again. But I settled into the idea and gradually began to dream of what this new baby would mean for my family.

I wondered if it would be a boy or a girl. I tried to configure where the kids would sleep once the baby arrived, as we had the girls sharing a room at the time. 

I’m sure my husband was already imagining playing ball with the little boy he always wanted. Not that he didn’t love his girls, he just wanted that third chance to make a boy. 

And as a parenting team, we were already contemplating which car we would trade for that dreaded minivan. 

I made my first prenatal appointment with my OB-GYN. It did not go well. 

First, they warned me that I would have to stop breastfeeding. I could not carry a pregnancy and nurse my then 6-month-old daughter. I was not excited to switch her to formula, especially since she wouldn’t even drink pumped milk. She was my kid who would never accept an artificial nipple of any kind, including pacifiers. 

Well, not only did their pregnancy test come up negative, they were questioning if I was certain that I had actually had a positive home test. I felt like I was being gaslit. 

They sent me home feeling stupid and as though I had created the pregnancy in my own mind. 

But later that weekend, I started cramping severely and bleeding heavily. I was having a miscarriage. There was no question about it. It was a miserably painful and disgusting couple of days, mostly lying on my bathroom floor. 

I did this alone. I never called the doctor because I did not want to feel stupid all over again. I just assumed that my body would take care of it.

I really wish my doctor had taken me seriously and maybe would have warned me about what might happen, that miscarriage was likely beginning. It would have been nice to know what to expect and to look out for. 

The real cruelty was that just as I was getting used to the idea of welcoming another addition into our family, it was gone. 

And even though I felt this heartbreak, I also felt a massive sense of relief. And I felt a bit guilty about that. 

Now, my over-30 body wouldn’t have to struggle to grow another baby again. I could continue to breastfeed my daughter. I would bypass the turmoil of postpartum depression. The dreaded minivan would not be needed. And my life as I knew it carried on despite this hiccup. 

I’m really glad this happened early on. I can’t imagine the devastation of carrying a life that you can feel moving and know that it will not survive. I can’t imagine not having a choice to terminate if that were the case. 

To know that now, in 2023, a woman doesn’t have the right to make decisions about her own body in the United States is frightening. My husband would dismiss my disgust with this because this is still a right in our state. But what if it weren’t? 

Infant and maternal mortality are on the rise in this country and are the highest in all developed countries in the world.

In the year since Roe vs. Wade was overturned, states with strict abortion laws have seen infant mortality increase, up by 11.5% in Texas in 2022, and maternal mortality increased overall in 2020, the last data I could find. These rates are significantly worse for Black mothers and babies.

We have to change the narrative about maternal healthcare in this country. Explicit bias impacts the care we receive as women, and it’s even worse for Black women. Even I, as a white woman who also happens to be a healthcare provider, was not taken seriously by my female doctor. And what’s pro-life about risking the lives of women for the sake of a non-viable fetus? What’s pro-life about not providing affordable healthcare? What’s pro-life about not allowing women the time and financial support to bond with their new families? 

Make it make sense to me. 

And here’s another kicker: homicide is the leading cause of death in pregnant women in the United States. 

Women deserve so much better. Be a part of the solution, not the problem. 

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Does anything you’ve read here surprise you? Are you mad yet? Since abortion is now a state issue, please contact your state delegates and tell them how you feel. Contact your US Congressmen and Senators and ask them to codify Roe vs. Wade. If they don’t know we care, they won’t do anything about it. 

As always, I hope you all are safe and healthy.