I miscarried at 13 weeks, just when I thought I was safe

I miscarried mid January at 13 weeks. It was the most horrific experience of my life. I always imagined miscarriages in the way of going to a doctor's appointment and not hearing or seeing the heartbeat, as that's how the stories I've read have gone. That wasn't how mine happened. Maybe that's not how most of them go. I don't know. I'm writing this not only for therapy, but to share my story. Miscarriage seems like a taboo topic ... Until you have one, and then women come out of the woodwork.

At 9 weeks, I had an ultrasound that looked great, with a strong heartbeat. Then at 13 weeks, I had light, brown spotting for a couple days, but then it stopped. One night, I got some period-like cramps that would come and go, but then they stopped. The next night, I had some pelvic pain that started radiating through my lower abdomen, and that would come and go. I then felt like I had to go to the bathroom, so I went and sat on the toilet. The cramps started again but didn't stop. I started to stand up and sat back down after feeling some liquid come out. Then all at once everything fell out of me. The placenta, the fluid, the fetus. I saw my little baby in the toilet.

We rushed to the hospital, where they examined me and gave me an ultrasound. It was the worst night of my life. I wanted that baby more than anything, and it took us 7 months to conceive it. Being past the 12-week mark, I thought I was safe. Logically, I knew it could still happen, but the odds are so much lower, I couldn't help feeling and relishing that safety net.

Now, I would have been about 18 weeks pregnant. I would have been finding out or about to find out the gender.

I got my period a couple days ago, and I can't stop crying. I can't talk about it to anyone, except my husband. My sister is one month away from having her 3rd baby, and I can't bring myself to talk to her, even still, even about other things.

My family thinks I'm being distant. What they don't know is how hard it is to look at and talk to the people who know. How hard it is to be out in the world and act like everything is normal.

I don't know how I'm going to handle my new niece or nephew's birth. I don't know how I'm going to handle it if it takes another 7 months to conceive. I don't know how I'm going to handle getting pregnant again. All I know is I'm desperate to move on. While my hormones or my attitude or whatever it is that won't let me move on right now lingers, I am desperate to not feel this crippling grief.