I’m technically still pregnant. Pregnant with a corpse; a shell of what once was.⠀
My body hasn’t registered our loss yet. She’s just going about her day, oblivious to the reality within her. ⠀
I guess she never got the paperwork.⠀
So I’ll wait with her.⠀
We are waiting and I am fighting for the care I know she needs.⠀
Amidst covid restrictions, and red taped ORs, I’m waiting to find someone who will take us in; someone who will save us the trauma and possibility of bleeding out at home.⠀
The reality is, first trimester loss isn’t ‘just a heavy period’. My body and I have experienced it before at 9 weeks, and it was awful.⠀
Covered in blood, passing clot after clot after clot in my own home, I thought I was dying. When the bleeding stopped I thought it was over; I thought my body was in the clear. But 24 hours later it started again, and I had to pull my tiny little baby out of my precious body because once again she was holding on.⠀
She also held on at 16 weeks. After medication to induce labour, she released our little babe. But tissue was retained and 24 hours later I was passing clots the size of my hand. Thankfully I was in the hospital and able to have a D&C immediately.⠀
I can only imagine what my body will do at 12 weeks.⠀
I know what she needs.⠀
So I sit here, and I wait. Still pregnant. ⠀
Advocating for my precious body.