The Misadventure

It’s been one crazy month after another and I got 1001 things to do today and for the rest of the week. Lets add on to the fact that my body is getting bigger and bigger by the day and I am getting more and more slower too. All I want to do today (and almost every other moment of my life right now) is just to lay down and enjoy the kicking and tiny little movements from the inside of my tummy. Is that too much to ask? Turns out, at this moment of time, it is.

So you probably heard by now that I’m carrying a bundle of responsibility, growing steadily at 28th week. But this is not my first pregnancy. I had what I like to call as a misadventure almost 10 months ago. A day before I turned 30 and also a day before the mysterious flight MH370 gone missing without a trace, I had a miscarriage. Yupe. Spent my big day of turning 30 on the bed because I was supposed to be recovering from a D&C I had the night before.

We did not plan the first pregnancy (nor this one) and I wasn’t going to say that I’m not excited all the same. That’s just down right lying. We’ve been married for more than 3 years and although we have decided to hold off on the expansion plan, when news like this came knocking, of course I was elated. I was practically dancing right in the middle of the road while we were walking towards our car after our first appointment at the clinic and the doctor confirmed it. Yeah. That how overjoyed I was.  I even carried the ultrasound photo everywhere I went and whenever I can, I kept pointed it out to the Dear Darling on how cute my baby was (yeah you cant see much but a tiny blop) going to be.  No one but the family members knew though. I was trying hard to be all cool about it. So hard for wanting to keep it hush hush, I often found myself ignoring the fact that I was carrying a child inside of me and I went on with my life and workload just like I normally would. Not a care in the world. I was happy but so, so clueless. It was definitely not a good combo.

So eight weeks into the pregnancy, I discovered a blood stain while I was at Mom’s. Just a small stain but that was enough to throw all worries in the world right in front of my doorstep. Hello, panic attack! So that evening of March 6th, 2014 (2 days before my 30th birthday) we sped off to see our caregiver, hoping it was just a threat instead of the real thing. On the way, I was praying hard that God would let it easy on my first time experience of being a mom. Prayed that I won’t come home with a broken heart and I get to tell the amazing news to my friends on my birthday. Wasn’t that an ideal situation? The journey was quiet and long for us. Well, for me at least. I don’t know what was in the Dear Darling’s head at the moment. But we were quiet as I was busy praying hard in my head.

When we arrived, the doctor can’t confirmed anything because there was no new blood other than the original stains. The ultrasound showed that everything was still intact but he didn’t tell us anything other than that. No mentioned of tiny heartbeats or anything and don’t think we asked any because we were that clueless. So he sent us home and I was requested to be on a bed rest for the rest of the week. I was a little relieved by the piece of information, that it might be just like what I prayed it to be.. a threat. All I needed was a good rest after all, I thought.

So as soon as we arrived home, I didn’t waste any time. Took a quick bath and straight on the bed, all fresh and ready to get that rest that I thought was all I needed to get back to being happy and pregnant. Mind you, there was still that worry nagging in my head but I decided being positive was the way to go here. I spent the rest of the night Googling about it. Fuh! At the rate I was reading about threaten miscarriage, there’s hope (at least that was what I like to believe). There were hundreds that got out of it and still happily pregnant. So there must be hope for me too.

Then the stomach cramp came with a slight squeeze down the nether region. So I checked and there it was – fresh, red, hot and a little lumpy but not too much to shocked me into thinking it was the end. It was just fresh stains. So I kept on hoping, crying, praying and Googling up for more info. Up till I was too tired from all the panic crying, I slept with a very heavy heart (not until a call to the doctor and he reassured me that I needed the sleep and I can come and see him the next day if the bleeding persisted).

The next day, I was feeling slightly better and not too panicky any more. The bleeding seemed to subside and leaving only brown stains from the night before but I was still on bed rest just to be sure. Spent the entire day on bed has got to be the worst idea that the doctor had ever suggested to me. I can’t do anything much but to wonder with my worries and cry. Thank God, Dear Darling was super understanding. He even took an emergency leave from work just to be with me and making sure I’m all OK and that I ate on time. Till to this very day, I am amazed at how cool he was through out the entire ordeal when I was right there, in front of him, with all of my panic attacks, drama and oh! all that crying. I’m slightly jealous of him too for being so calm about it. But I guess someone needs to be the sane one in order to keep the boat afloat or else, we’ll drown. So it was better him than me.

By the evening, I was much calmer and somehow ready to whatever outcomes that might turned out. There was no sign of fresh blood by 5pm, so I decided to go to the loo because I have been holding it in for quite sometimes (Well.. I was scared that I might flushed the baby out if I did). And then there it was.. in the toilet..  red and hot and bloody.. came down pouring as soon as I stand up. At that time, I knew that this was it. Bye bye birdie. Called out for the Hubster, cleaned the toilet and we left to get that official confirmation. I wasn’t crying any more because by that time, surges of pain kept appearing 2 to 5 seconds apart. My mind has shifted completely on managing the pain. Mom said that was how contraction felt like. I must had contractions then. We opted for the D&C right away as suggested by the doctor. How was I feeling after? Numb, thanks to the anaesthesia. I know that the anaesthesia only lasted for a few hours, but days after the incident was a total blur for me and I’m thankful for that. Especially right after the procedure because I would be a total wreck.

So on the day of my 30th birthday, after the procedure the night before, I pestered the Dear Darling to take me out on a date because in my defence, I deserved it. So he took me for a quick movie date and a lunch and we’re home and I’m back on the bed 3 hours later. Well I was supposed to be on a bed rest like any normal patient who just had a procedure anyway. Couldn’t argue much or wiggled my way out of that.

It has been 10 months since then and I am now back at being pregnant and so far, it looks promising. I’m in my third trimester now and this little bean will due somewhere in March next year. How am I feeling? Excited of course. I’m back to doing my happy dances whenever I get the chance to. Ask the Hubster. It is all I talked about ever since I found out that I’m pregnant again. Now a day, every little kick, hiccup and movement can send me over the moon. Yupe, even at 7th month, heavy, all that body aches and my carpal tunnel syndrome, this little bean makes me all sort of happy. Maybe when I can find the time and not too lazy, I shall pen down about this pregnancy.

For today, I’ll leave you with a story of how eventful was my day turning in to decade number 3 with a very strong set of hands by my side and a supportive family.

It was a good experience in the end. It made me more aware with the development of my current baby and the pregnancy itself. No more going around acting like it did not happened. It also made me more appreciative towards my man, family and of course, my own body.


About Bahijah Wahid

An aspiring art maker.

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