Belly aches and heartbreaks

Trigger warning - pregnancy loss

Through out my pregnancy, I haven't had many moments yet where I truly felt scared. That is, until now. I will clarify now, I have not lost Jasper! But today made me truly fear that I might for the first time.

The first thing they tell you about pregnancy is not to get your hopes up, because miscarriage in the first trimester is not only a concern, but it's common. In fact, about 1 in every 4 recognized pregnancies end in miscarriage. So many people miscarry, the chances are so high, that they tell you not even to announce it until you're in the second trimester. Maybe it's the statistics, maybe it was my step mom having a miscarriage when I was in high school, maybe it's just an internal fear that I'm not good enough, but whatever the reason - I have always been terrified I would end up infertile or miscarrying. I feared for so long not being worthy of motherhood, of creating life, of taking up the gauntlet of womanhood that my mother and grandmother and those before them passed me.

My pregnancy thus far has been rough on me, but in general has been an absolute dream. Our baby's heartbeat is always strong, his ultrasounds always put him at a healthy length and weight, we had a 1 in 10,000 chance of Down's (the smallest chance), his bones are developing well, his heart has 4 strong chambers, his brain is large and growing still, our Jasper looks GOOD. He is strong, and reminds me every day by practicing his jujitsu every morning in my belly. He responds to sugary drinks, seems to appreciate chocolate, and has even let me catch him kicking on camera a few times.

So when I got home from work last night and felt an intense, painful cramp in my lower belly, I wasn't even concerned that it was him. My first thought was gas. Go to the bathroom, break wind a few times, do some stretches, and I'll be fine.

But after an hour, having emptied my intestines of solid waste and passing gas quite a few times, there was still no relief for the stabbing pain I was feeling below my belly button. The dull ache remains, and I begin to worry it is something else... something worse.

As time passed from 11pm to midnight and midnight to 1am with almost no relief, I text my boyfriend in tears. "I think there's something wrong, I'm going to see if it still hurts in a few hours." He reassures me that we're fine, Jasper is fine, and to stop worrying so much. I hope he's right. I set my alarm for 5am, assuming I will need to wake myself up to check the pain.

I am wrong.

Dreaming that I'm going into labor, I wake up at least once an hour, and can hardly get back to sleep as the stabbing sensation slashes up my stomach from my pelvis to my belly button, and back down again. I curl into myself, tears welling in my eyes and try not to moan as I gasp for air. It is single handedly the most painful thing I have ever experienced. It starts off dull, like a cramp. It's like someone turning up the volume on the pain as it carves my insides out bit by bit.

Even worse is that my poor baby, who cannot possibly know any better, continues to kick me in that very spot, feeling as though he is reopening a gash every time he does, and bringing with it a wave of pain so intense it makes me nauseous.

By 7am I have decided we need to go to the hospital. I text my nurse contact, asking her what her recommended course of action is. On her advice, I try to contact my midwives but don't get through, then go to the hospital once Aaron makes it home. I also email my boss with a heads up that we are going in, even though I don't work for another 5 hours.

As I type this, another wave of spasmodic cramps rocks through my pelvis, making me squirm in discomfort.

The car trip to the hospital is rough. Aaron hasn't actually seen me while having one of these episodes, so he has to watch helplessly from the driver's seat while I try in vain to get more comfortable, to rid my body of the torment to no avail. He keeps telling me I am strong. I don't feel strong.

The nurse checks the baby's heartbeat ("Sounds nice!"), takes my blood pressure ("126 over 70, perfect!"), and tells me she needs a pee sample whenever I can manage. The doctor comes in before I have to go. She asks what it feels like and pokes around a bit, I'm shocked that what she does has no affect on me. Surely my whole abdomen should be miserable to the touch! But it is not, and she tells me that she thinks I'm fine.

'Tell that to the pain I'm feeling,' I think to myself.

She says she'll be checking my urine sample for abnormalities when I do give one, and that until then she would like to monitor me for contractions just in case. We do both, she eventually returns to tell me everything looks generally normal. So what the hell is ripping me apart from the inside out?!

Abdominal muscle separation. This is fairly common, around 60% of women experience this during pregnancy. I'm stunned, because even though I assumed this would happen, no one told me it would hurt so bad.

I suddenly feel weak, and childish. I came to the emergency area in triage over something that so many women get! What's wrong with me!? Is my pain threshold really so low? Am I going to have to change my birth plan and use medication after all? Am I really so feeble, fragile, frail?

The doctor told me that all I can do is drink more water, add some magnesium supplements to my diet, and avoid exercising. Maybe take hot baths and use a rice sock. I feel like I've wasted everyone's time. My nurse contact tells me I'm a good mom for knowing something is wrong. Aaron tells me AGAIN that I am so strong. I still do not feel strong. I still do not feel worthy.

Now we're home and the pain continues. It comes every half hour or hour, stays for less than a minute, and disappears, reminding me how incompetent I really am. That something so short and insignificant should should knock me so far down... My boss tells me not to come in tonight, to rest and relax and come back in Monday. I just started that job, I'm already calling out.. I am lazy, too.

12 hours ago I thought I was losing my baby, or close to it. Now, I feel humbled. I am not the baby making machine I thought every woman was naturally. I am powerless and sluggish and inoperative, and my fetus kicking me is painful enough to bring me to tears. I know that this is not true, but I cannot manage to banish it from my mind.

Today my heart aches. Not because I lost my baby, but because I'm convinced I do not deserve him.