The Agony of My Unborn Child


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The pain of losing an unborn child is the worst kind I have felt in this world. Speaking to Julie, who has had five miscarriages, I could relate to the gruesome pain of never getting to see your children.

Julie said that the most painful thing about a miscarriage is that everyone around you quickly moves on, including the husband. Except you, the mother! I can relate to Julie’s experience. I remember every birthday of every child that I have ever miscarried. I doubt my husband remembers that he has lost three unborn babies.

I am imagining some men will read this and ask why it is important to remember since they were not seen. I can assure you that they will never understand the pain that goes beyond what is felt physically. They will never be in a woman’s shoes to understand the pain of the void that miscarriage leaves in your soul.

I got married at 31 years old, and at this age, my relatives were already putting me under pressure to give my husband a child. After all, he had paid a hefty price for my bride, they reasoned. I tried, and I would always miscarry just about the 11th week. The last miscarriage was the most painful, as it had passed the 11-week mark.

While heading to work early in the morning on that fateful day, I felt a flow from my private parts. I rushed to the bathroom only to find that, at 20 weeks, I had lost my little one again. All the excitement that I had knowing that I was finally going to carry a child to term evaporated like mist.

The agony-filled wail from the bathroom made my husband come rushing to my rescue. Only to find me seated in a pool of blood, speechless, that was quickly spread on the floor.

He hurried me to the hospital, where an ultrasound was arranged. The sonographer turned the screen away from me when he entered the room. There was quietness for approximately 10 minutes. You could barely hear a pin drop before I asked, “Is my baby OK?” Is everything alright? I knew something was wrong when the sonographer asked that we go back to the gynecologist. Unfortunately, Dr. Steven confirmed what I suspected but didn’t want to accept. I had lost my third pregnancy.

I had heard the dark but now familiar words, “I am sorry, but there isn’t a heartbeat.” It was simply devastating, to say the least. The process of inducing contractions to get rid of the dead zygote serves only to prick an already painful wound. It’s shattering to know that the labor pains you have to endure are bearing no fruit. Every seed should produce a fruit, and a good fruit. That’s the way nature is designed! Any miscarriage seems like it goes against everything natural.

I must, however, end this horrible tale. It all feels like useless lamentation now, even writing about it. The wounds feel as fleshy as yesterday. A part of you that has experienced such episodes simply does not want to go through them again. The wound never seems to heal. I don’t think I’ll ever have a typical pregnancy where I’m always joyful and never experience any dread or anxiety.

If you ever meet someone who has had a miscarriage or even multiple miscarriages, don’t judge them or pretend to know their pain. If you don’t know how to respond to their pain, just give them a hug and remind them that they are loved and blessed. Sometimes all they need is just a hug and nothing else.

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