Will it ever stop? The replaying of that day.
The walking to the bathroom after class with the sharp pains in my abdominal area.
The opening of the door.
The pulling of the papertowels.
The rushing to the stall.
Hanging my purse up.
Putting the paper towels down*.
The blood.
Everywhere.
My hands.
The toilet.
Women outside the stall, oblivious to what is going on in here.
They are just trying to go to the bathroom in between their classes.
And I'm struggling to prevent any blood from dropping on the floor.
Can you imagine if a girl on either side of me sees the drop of blood fall on the floor?
What will she do?
What will she think?
Will she scream?
I've got to get out of here.
I've got to clean the blood up.
I need to call my friend.
I need to go home.
Will I have to go to the ER again?
What is going on?
I stand up and see it.
A sac.
The size of the palm of my hand.
In the toilet.
At school.
I want to pick it up.
I know what it is.
It's my hopes.
It's my dream.
I've been waiting seven years for it.
And in the blink of an automatic toilet, it's gone.
I've got to get out of here.
Now.
Go.
Unable to look at anyone in the eye.
To the sink.
Then, outside to call my friend.
Will it ever go away? The replay? Will I ever be able to go to that bathroom again? Will I ever be able to go in that stall again? Will I ever be able to stop the blood dripping from my hand?
[* I never sit my bare ass on a public toilet and always use paper towels on the seats.]
4 comments:
I literally cannot even imagine. I'm so sorry you had to go through that. NO ONE should. :(
I've resisted commenting because really, what can anyone say? I do want to let you know I went through the exact same thing - the only difference was it happened at work not school and it was years ago. The tired stopped for me when my hormones settled down. As I recall it took no more than 2 weeks. As for the trauma - I talked it out with a therapist and that helped me. I remember, but it's not traumatic any more. Take care of yourself.
I am so so sorry that you had to go through that. I really just don't know what to say. One thing I have learned from reading so many blogs and living through IF is that things get better. When things are really really bad I just try to remember that. Sometimes just that little flicker of hope helps me to get through. I hope it does for you too.
I'm catching up on my reader queue slowly, hence the late comment.
My first miscarriage was in July of 2008. It happened much like yours. Unexpectedly, in my mother-in-law's bathroom, a sac the size of my thumb was on the toilet paper. Shocked, I dropped it into the water and flushed.
It doesn't replay nearly as often as it used to. Maybe that's time, maybe it's having replays of two other miscarriages to compete with it. We moved out of his mom's house, but I can still see it (her, in my mind) every time we visit and I have to use that bathroom. And I can't flush a dead fish without breaking into heaving sobs.
It's awfully traumatic and I'm sorry it happened to you too. I wish that you will heal better than I have. Please take advantage of your school's counseling department. They won't truly understand, but it should be better than nothing. (((hugs)))
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