Empty

It was our fourth pregnancy. We had one living child. Our second pregnancy had ended in a termination for medical reasons. Our third ended in a missed miscarriage. I was sure this was the one! We would finally have a second living child. After all, the doctors were so encouraging…

But at 12 weeks I had an ultrasound. 

“I’m sorry there is nothing here ... no heartbeat.” 

I couldn’t believe it. A second missed miscarriage. At first I was silent. Then I was lead to an empty room to wait for the doctor. The door closed and I started crying. The type of cry where you cannot catch your breath. I called my husband; he hadn’t come to the appointment as it felt so routine.  He asked me what he could do. “Nothing. There is nothing you can do.”

My doctor told me I would need surgery as the fetus was too far along to miscarry at home. I felt prepared for what was to come. I’d miscarried before. I knew the drill. 

I was not prepared. 

I went home awaiting the surgery that was scheduled for the end of the week. I called into work and took the week off.  I filled my days with books, taking walks, visiting museums.  Anything to make the time pass.

Days later, I was sitting watching television alone.  My husband was at work and my son at preschool. I don’t recall what was on television - I wasn’t really present. I was just trying make the time pass. I heard a “pop” and felt a trickle of liquid. I knew something was wrong. I ran to the bathroom. So much blood. No one warns you about all the blood. And then I saw him. I had “birthed” our hoped-for son into our toilet. I never will forget that image. I panicked. I couldn’t breathe. I heard the front door open - my son returning home with his dad from preschool. I instinctively yelled out, “don’t come in here!”  I didn’t want my son to see what I was seeing.  

All I wanted to do was go to bed and cry, but the bleeding just wouldn’t stop. What came next was a whirlwind of rushing to the emergency room, middle of the night ultrasounds, having pads of blood weighed to determine blood loss. So much blood. I passed out. A code blue was called. I awoke to pure fear on my husband’s face- something I’d never seen before. I was rushed to emergency surgery. I awoke exhausted and empty inside.  I was told I was lucky to have survived. It’s true- I was lucky. But at that time the word “lucky” rang hollow. 

I went home for a two-week recovery. Due to the blood loss, I was weak and dizzy. It was such a blur. And at the end, I was left wondering how this could happen. In my naïveté, I thought it would be easy to have a second child simply because my first was so easy. How could I lose 3 pregnancies? 

That is the thing about secondary pregnancy loss. It blindsided me. It made me question myself. My womanhood. It left me feeling empty. I was empty. 

~Jessica Costanzo