My husband and I really wanted a baby. We were in our mid thirties. We’d been trying for a year. I got pregnant. We were ecstatic. I quickly started experiencing debilitating morning sickness. Constantly wrenching, vomiting, dry heaving all day, all night. Smelling food, seeing food on tv shows, typing emojis of food made me vomit, even if there was nothing in my stomach. It continued for over 6 weeks; over 42 days. I couldn’t work, I didn’t sleep, I could barely stand up. I cried throughout every day, praying for the misery to pass. At 12 weeks pregnant, my medical team told me that I was experiencing a “missed miscarriage.” There was no living baby in my uterus, but my body didn’t register that, and continued acting as though it were pregnant.
I now had a few options— to wait it out and see if my body would finally recognize the failed pregnancy and evict the knotted mass of cells it was forming in my uterus. If this did not happen naturally within a few weeks, it would be lethally dangerous not to take further action. At which point we would have to take one of the following actions — either surgically remove the uterine occupants, or, final option, take the abortion pills, which would prompt an immediate and thorough evacuation. But, we could wait and see, before taking any action.
“Wait and see” would mean days upon days of continued agony, misery and pain for me.
I wanted it to end. The pills cost me $4. I didn’t wait.
I threw up all day long, as usual. I took the pills, and then my body started violently aborting. And then, like a true miracle, I wasn’t nauseous anymore. My uterus and my poor stomach and acid-burned esophagus started to recover. I could eat. I could smell! I could sleep and stand and walk.
I mourned. But throughout the recovery process, I was eternally grateful for that quick and easy release. That I could take this magnificent little pill, and help my heart and body start to heal. Science was miraculous for me and my experience. My healthcare team saved me. I got pregnant again later that year. My daughter is almost 3, very healthy and fun and funny. That pregnancy was not easy, but not nearly as debilitating as my first. I’ll always be thankful for the quick and thorough care I received. I don’t like to remember the experience, but the point is, I’m still here to remember it. I’m alive and healthy and I have a future to look forward to.