*WARNING: This article contains graphic details.*
I learned that my pregnancy wasn’t viable about 12 hours after I learned that I was pregnant.
It was the end of August this year and my period - which is literally the only thing in Jamaica that I can count on to start on time - was just over a week late.
Pregnancy was the furthest thing from my mind as I had in an IUD for almost a year.
The symptoms
I had taken vacation from work a few weeks earlier, so I convinced myself that it must have been a lack of stress that threw my cycle off.
I made up a theory that if stress can throw off one’s cycle, then for someone who is usually stressed, the opposite must be true.
Then I was at work one day and I felt a sharp, sudden pain in my side.
Thinking it was just the worst menstrual cramps of my life, I took painkillers and tried to go about my day.
Pregnancy test
But the pain didn’t stop, and the anticipated bleeding didn’t start.
I went to the pharmacy that evening to buy more painkillers, and the person ahead of me in the line bought a pregnancy test, so I took one as well just to humour myself.
I was pregnant.
Imagine my absolute shock and horror when I took it later that night and saw that second red line come up!
Birth control
The first thing I did was google the effectiveness of the Copper IUD.
More than 99%. Ha!
The second thing I did was send a picture of the pregnancy test to my gynaecologist while laughing uncontrollably.
I found it hilarious that not only was I in the 99th percentile of the world’s unluckiest women, but also that despite having every single early pregnancy symptom in the book, I never once suspected it after I missed my period.
Against the odds
I made an appointment for the following morning and laughed myself to sleep.
My gynaecologist used the word ‘special’ instead of unlucky to describe my situation.
I was his first patient to ever get pregnant on that contraceptive method.
We did a transvaginal ultrasound that showed that the Copper-T had somehow shifted downwards into my cervix, leaving room for some pesky, determined sperm cells to swim past it.
Ectopic pregnancy
The ultrasound also showed a foetal sac in the early stages of development.
Yup, I was preggers, and yup - like most IUD pregnancies tend to be - it appeared to be ectopic.
We removed the IUD (so much for 10 years of protection *side eye*) and discussed my options.
We decided that based on the sharp pains I was having (that I never had in my previous pregnancy with my son), that it was best to stop the pregnancy.
Beginning of the end
He administered an injection that would slow the growth of new cells in my body, which would ultimately result in a decline in the HCG hormone in my body, and my body naturally ending the pregnancy.
I was still pregnant.
Being the google scholar that I am, I knew it would probably take weeks for the pregnancy to be resolved.
So, I was still very pregnant, only with the knowledge that it was not going to last.
Pregnancy symptoms
This made me relieved and sad in equal parts.
What I didn’t know however, was how pregnant I would still feel.
I had morning sickness. I had cravings. I had acne. I was fatigued.
I couldn’t concentrate. I had mood swings. I was gaining weight.
On top of all this, I still had to go to work, and I had a (very much alive) five-year-old son that I had to care for.
Realisation
Apparently my body was very excited to go again, because I even started showing.
I thought it was all in my head at first - I was only about 8 weeks along at the time.
Then one of my colleagues came up to me at work and asked if I was pregnant… in front of the entire office (that’s Jamaican coworkers for you).
I think that’s when it really hit me that this was really happening.
The loss
Then I wasn’t pregnant anymore.
I never cried about it until I started bleeding in mid-September.
I didn’t even know why I was crying when I did.
I certainly didn’t regret my decision.
I didn’t want another baby.
I didn’t feel guilty. I didn’t feel ashamed. I didn’t feel like I was damned to hell.
I chalked it up to pregnancy hormones at a crescendo and went on with my life.
Heartbreak
After a few days of menstrual-like bleeding that was beginning to taper off, one night I was in bed and I felt a big gush of blood.
(Dear reader, I must pause here to urge you to invest in a mattress protector if you don’t have one already, especially if you have a white mattress like I do).
I rushed to the bathroom.
I wasn’t in any pain but I felt like something was about to happen.
I instinctively reached my hand down to collect whatever came out next.
And there it was; a little mass, about the size of a cashew, that could have someday grown into a baby.
I stared at it for a while, then I took a picture of it with my phone, cleaned up, and got on with life.
Grief
I threw myself into work, telling myself that I needed to make up for the weeks I slacked off due to pregnancy symptoms.
I started feeling better physically, with a big question mark over my emotional state.
I probably drank more wine and listened to more Adele in October than in all my life combined.
I didn’t comprehend what I was experiencing as grief.
How could I grieve knowing I never wanted it? Knowing I took active steps to prevent it?
The breakdown
Then I broke.
I was scrolling on Twitter one day last week and was reminded that October is Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Month.
Then on Friday someone at work noted that it would have been her stillborn child’s birthday.
I didn’t react immediately, but I barely got anything done that day.
I felt like I was overcome with emotions, but for some reason I couldn’t cry.
Dealing with pain
I dressed up and went to a party that night.
I ate, drank, danced with my friends, and enjoyed the night.
Then I went home and bawled my eyes out.
I looked at the picture of the bloody little cashew and cried until I fell asleep.
Yesterday my son was at his dad’s, so I stayed in bed.
I didn’t feel the urge to cry anymore.
I wasn’t necessarily sad; I wasn’t happy either.
Coping
I just sat with my feelings and allowed them to pass through me.
And I think that did the trick.
I feel better now. I acknowledge that I have experienced loss.
I had a life growing inside me that I was connected to, and my pregnancy, however short, was very real.
On reflection, I saw that I was, in my own way, going through the stages of grief, and in writing this down, I am at acceptance.
I just needed to pause to grieve the pregnancy I didn’t plan for and didn’t want, but I still miss.