Lil tells… Part 2
I sit down with the midwife, where I immediately find myself nose-deep in the birth announcements . I read countless names, one of which is even a girl's name that my partner and I have repeated several times. She tries to pull me out of my thoughts by telling me what my options are. Waiting, medication, or curettage, I hear her say. I look at her in a daze, say nothing, while I feel my head pounding with questions and tears wanting to come out.
We decide not to wait any longer because my body still feels ‘too pregnant’ for this. It could take weeks, and that thought, combined with all the pregnancy ailments, drove me crazy. Since curettage is considered a minor operation with slightly more risks, we decide to go for medication, the most chosen option in a missed abortion. The midwife tells me that she is not the one who can hand me ‘the pill’ and that she needs to refer me to a gynecologist. ‘With the weekend in sight, I think you can go in about 5 to 6 days,’ says the midwife. And yes, there I went. What I tried to hold back failed right here right now. A week of waiting? With a lifeless little one in my belly? Just the thought of it made me intensely nauseous; I found it almost inhumane. Not much later, I say goodbye at the practice and walk home sobbing with my ultrasound book. The book I wanted to keep for later when the little one was big. Totally upset, I want to throw it away, but my partner immediately decides to fish it out of the trash. We walk home, where I almost automatically message everyone with the terrible news.
Once home, we immediately encounter my father, who is busy on the phone in the hallway trying to contact yet another hospital, and my mother, who quickly provides me with a pair of sweatpants, a cup of tea, Grace and Frankie, and Nola on my lap. My father comes with the ‘best’ news of the day: I can still go to The Hague before the weekend.
The Hague, the place where I thought I would be done after one visit. The Hague, the place where I unfortunately will take you much more than expected in the coming time...
In the summer of 2019, I received the sad news of a missed abortion. After three months, it was seen on the second ultrasound that the heartbeat unfortunately no longer beat. In the coming weeks, I will take you with me every Tuesday morning on Amayzine to give this event in my life a better place and to make this subject less taboo, but especially to give others in a similar situation the feeling that they are not alone. Because together we are so much stronger. And alone, you are not. I promise you that.
