Blood. Lots of blood. Blood dripping into the toilet, that’s how heavy it is.
I woke up and had minor cramp like pains, but I’ve had them on and off since I found out I was pregnant, so I didn’t think to much of them.
They went away, so I was much more comfortable. My mum only had one child in care today so we decided to go shopping. We left at 9am and shopped until just before, about 2:30.
About 2:00 I started to feel a slight cramp, but then it went just as quickly as it came. About 30 seconds after it left I felt a gush. I was praying to all that is holy that it was just the crinone escaping.
But I knew. I knew how watery it felt and how quickly I could feel it touching my underwear. I knew when it kept coming what was happening. I rushed as quick as I could to the nearest toilet, and I shut my eyes, pulled my pants down and prayed that when I looked at my underwear, that there would be a big white patch of crinone.
But that’s not what was there. I seen a big soggy patch of red. A lot of red.
And then I wiped, and it filled the toilet paper. And I wiped about 20 more times and it didn’t let up. It just kept going. So I sat there, and I cried in the public toilet until the dripping stopped.
And I wiped again and it had slowed down, slightly.
I got up thinking that there is nothing more I can do. And as I stood I felt more come out. Then I turned and looked into the toilet bowl. Where my hopes and dreams literally escaped me. It was a crime scene. So so so much blood.
So I stopped crying, I accepted it. My third miscarriage, at the ripe old age of 23.
There was no cramping, but now I do feel some mild cramps. This is how the last miscarriage started.
I rang the clinic, and I’m yet to hear from them. I assume they will want to ‘wait and see how it goes’. But I’m pretty confident what has happened.
You know the worst part? I was so hopeful after the good blood test result and the great scan result yesterday. I thought that everything fell into place and this pregnancy was going to result in my second child.
But, clearly not. As upsetting as it is, I’m starting to believe baby #2 is not meant to be.