When I first found out I was pregnant, I was dizzy with joy. I could finally be part of this wonderful club that I was yearning to get admittance to. So the first thing I did was to download the Ovia app so I too, could take bump selfies and post it on social media with cute hashtags. I was asked to name my baby and after thinking hard, I decided on the name ‘Stickie’ with hopes that he or she would stick with me for 9 glorious months.
One week after I downloaded the app, I said goodbye to the app, my hopes and dreams and Stickie.
After the last post, my test results were encouraging, having doubled. But that afternoon itself, my cramping got worse and my bleeding worsened.
The next day, Monday, it felt like my uterus was twisted in hot coals and being pulled tightly by sharp nails and knives. Deep in my heart, I knew it was over but I told myself it was fine as long as there were no clots.
At around 5pm, I went to the toilet doubled over in pain and passed out a huge clot about the size of my palm. Like a deranged women, I collapsed by the toilet bowl and cried and said goodbye to Stickie.
I went back to the hospital that evening in a zombie-like state. V refused to cry, saying that it wasn’t over till the test results said so. They took my blood for the 5th time that week.
The call didn’t come that night and somehow the absence of any negative news helped me to feel a little better. I googled for similar cases with positive outcomes, conveniently ignoring the many obvious negative outcomes.
The next morning, I received the news. HCG had dropped from 580 to 520. Stickie had left me.
The next few days passed by in a blur. I cried and I got angry, and to add salt to the wound, the cramps were excruciating and came every 5 minutes, never once letting me forget the ordeal I was undergoing.
V was my rock. He grieved with me but never let me see him vulernable. Maybe he felt that I needed him to be strong for me, though we did hug and cry it out with each other. My closest friends and family gave me space to grieve while letting me know that they were there for me. My dad dropped off food that my mum cooked, every morning before going to work (without waking me up) and my mum called every mealtime to ensure I was not starving myself. My RO at work took care of all my work commitments so I didn’t have to worry.
Now, 5 days after my miscarriage, I am better. I now know that I can get pregnant. I will be taking the next 2-3 months to build up my health and do whatever I can to lead to a full-term pregnancy the next time.
One day, I will see Stickie again. I know of this.