Chapter 30: Silence

The morning of October 13th, I woke up early. It was a Tuesday which meant that it would be a slow work day for me since I don't teach any core lessons on Tuesdays. I log on for Morning Meeting and then for the students' resource time at 2 PM. My appointment was at 7:30 AM, so I left my Mom's house at 6 AM, with enough time in my hands to make it to the clinic on time. My husband had dropped me to my Mom's so y plan was to take my brother's car to my appointment, drive back home while logging on for work from my phone, and then wait for Thursday, when my husband would come to my Mom's after work and stay through the weekend.

I was 6.5 weeks along, which according to my doctor meant that I would be able to hear a heartbeat at the appointment. I was annoyed that my husband still wasn't allowed to accompany me to the appointment. Of course I understood why. But for this huge development in our life, I wanted him to experience it first-hand as well.

My nurse had told me that I would be allowed to video call my husband from the exam room. So when I reached the clinic, we did a test run video call. I attempted to record my screen but it was my first time doing it, so while the screen recorded, the audio didn't. I wanted to have his expression on camera. The excitement was palpable. I wanted to burn that feeling into my memory forever.

Generally, doctor's offices have been telling patients not to come up to the waiting room ahead of time. I was already twenty minutes early. With only five minutes left, my anxiety was growing and I was getting restless. I needed to go check-in. The sooner I checked in, the sooner I'd get called back. Thankfully, I was the only patient there when I walked in. The front desk receptionist beamed when she saw me, wished me congratulations, and asked me to take a seat as she checked me in. Her smile eased my mind a bit.

I was called back a few minutes later. My doctor and sonographer were there for the appointment. I was happy that it wouldn't be a different doctor working that day. I didn't want to have to reschedule this appointment. They walked in, bursting and glowing, asking me how I had been feeling recently. I settled on to the exam table and laid down, the usual routine having become almost automatic for me. As the sonographer grabbed Wanda and started to do her thing, I excitedly asked her if I could video call my husband. My phone was clutched in my palm, ready to dial him.

She hesitated a moment before responding to me. "Let me just take a closer look here, dear." I saw her glance at my doctor. "Why don't you call him after we finish up here. We need to get a few images and the phone may get in the way." I deflated. I was so upset. I lay back and tried my best to not show that I was not happy. She looked around for another minute, and the doctor clicked a few things on the monitor screen. When she finished up, my doctor asked me to sit up.

"I wish I had better news to share. I am so sorry for your loss. It seems as if the baby has stopped growing. Have you felt anything?" I shook my head. I had just been here a few days ago when the scare happened, and she had said that everything was normal and on track. How could this be happening? We were supposed to hear the heartbeat today. This could not be happening.

"You have a few options. We can wait to see how your body reacts naturally. You may start bleeding. It will take some time for your body to realize what it happening before the miscarriage actually begins to take place. Or we could give you a pill that will get it going, so that you aren't in pain. The last option is to do a D&C which would be done in office to make sure that everything is cleaned out properly."

I could see her lips moving, and could hear the words, but I wasn't following. I sat there in shock, trying to make sense of what was going on. She gave me a pitiful look, and patted me on the arm in an effort to comfort me, and said I could checkout when I was ready to leave. Her and the sonographer left the room, leaving me to myself. As soon as that door clicked close, I let out a strained sob I didn't know I had been holding in. This could not be happening. This was not happening.

My motions afterwards were roboting. I put my pants back on, picked up my checkout sheet, walked to the front of the office, checked out, walked to my car, texted my husband that I would send him pictures because they said I couldn't call, ignored his follow-up messages of anxious annoyance, locked myself in the car, and pounded my steering wheel as I shook and cried in anger. What was I supposed to do now? I had my brother's car. But my husband was at my in-laws. I only wanted him in that moment. It was another hour drive south to their house. I didn't call or text anyone after that. I turned the car on, and drove through grief-stricken fear and thoughts of self-harm to my in-laws. I drove recklessly that morning. So incredibly recklessly. I didn't want to make it to the house. I just wanted it all over. This was not fair. Not after all the pain we had endured. How could this be fair?

Somehow, I managed to pull up to my in-laws house exactly an hour later. I stumbled out of the car, and walked on shaky legs to the front door. I didn't even have my keys with me since I was driving my brother's car. I rang the doorbell, knowing my MIL would answer. Everyone else would be working since it was still early in the morning. My heart trembled as I heard her walking through the door, and my eyes welled with tears once again. As soon as she pulled the door open, I broke down in front of her. I couldn't speak. I couldn't look into her eyes. I needed my husband. I left my shoes by the door, my purse on the floor, and ran up to our room in their house. There he was, in the middle of his work meeting, with his phone in one hand. He had been waiting for me to respond. I fell into his arms and let out a wail, a sound that grew from the depths of my abdomen, and caused me to convulse over and over. There was no way for me to get the words out. I had nothing to say to him. His child had died inside of me. There was nothing I could have done.

For hours, I stayed in that position. Quivering with never-ending tears, I lay curled up on the edge of the bed. Hours later, I drifted off to sleep. I'm not sure how long I slept. But when I awoke, I had to empty my bladder. My tears had dried on my cheeks, leaving behind the white residue. I walked across the hall to the restroom, prepared to pee and wash my face. But when I sat down to pee, I saw the blood come too. It hadn't even been a whole day since the appointment. She had said it may take some time to start. She was wrong, again. Numb, I took an overnight pad out from the vanity, did my thing, and went back to bed. I didn't speak for the next few hours. I texted my co-teacher to let her know what had happened and told her that I'd be taking off for the rest of the day. I forced myself back to sleep. At this point, my dreams would be far better than my reality.

While I was asleep, my brother called my phone a few times. When I didn't answer, he tried my husband. I hadn't told my family yet, and he wanted them to hear it from me. He needed his car since he had a detailing appt for it, in preparation for the wedding. My husband didn't wake me, but I heard him on the phone. I turned to him after he hung up, and asked him what was going on. He told me not to worry about it. But when I checked my phone to 5 missed calls and text messages, I called him back. He asked me when I'd be coming home. I told him I wasn't sure; I could try leaving by 4 PM. He could hear something in my voice. "Baji, wasn't your appointment this morning? Is everything okay?" There went the flood gates again. I told him the bare minimum. I didn't want to tell him at all. He had been over the moon. He was getting married. This was supposed to be the happiest week of his life. I hated making him so upset. He told me not to worry about the car. He confirmed that I had enough charge left in it to make it back home. As long as I left the next morning, it would make it back okay. Otherwise, I may need to stop and charge. I told him I'd be back in the morning.

After I hung up, I finally sat up in bed. My husband, seeing that I was more alert and oriented now, came and sat with me. Finally, he asked me what had happened. "I thought you said we'd be allowed to video call?" With tears filling up again, I looked at him and told him as clinically as I could, "The baby stopped growing. The sac was empty. There was nothing there, so there was no heartbeat to hear. The doctor said that once my body realized that there's no baby anymore, I'll start miscarrying. But I already started bleeding when I went to the toilet earlier. So I think it already started." Tears streamed down my face as I talked. I watched his face contort in pain, but he held it together for me. I whimpered as he pulled me in and held me close.

. . . .

A while later, he asked me if I wanted to go downstairs and eat anything. I wasn't hungry. I didn't want to see anyone. I could hear my husband's nephew playing around in the living room. I didn't want to see him. I didn't want to hear his giggles and see the worry on his face when he saw me upset. I wanted to see my own child.

Understanding, my husband went down to tell my MIL what happened. I heard her cries all the way to our room. I hid underneath the bed covers again, willing it to go away. Make it all go away.

. . . .

I slept some more after that. I didn't want to hear voices. I didn't want to talk. I didn't want any part of this day to be real.

Hours later, my MIL came to the room to check on me and bring me food. All I remember from that day, and that week, is a lot of tears. My SIL came in next. Not knowing what to say or how to bring comfort, she reached for a hug, and I hugged her as we both cried for the loss we didn't even realize had already made such a huge dent in our lives.

Closer to 10 PM, my younger brother in-law's wife came in, her toddler in tow. She tried to get him to leave, but he kept asking for me. I told her to let him come in. His presence lit up any room. Isn't it interesting how we can want and not want so much of the same thing all at the same time? She sat down next to me, and couldn't get any words out without crying. "I've been dreading coming upstairs all day. I didn't want to see you like this. I didn't want to cry. I told myself I wouldn't cry." We clung to each other, telling one another that it was okay, that we would be okay, that it was okay to cry. She laughed through her tears, "I'm supposed to be comforting you! I don't even know how you drove all the way here in your state. You should have called us." I looked at her sadly, "What else was supposed to do?"

She hung out with me for a while, then went to bring me dinner, instructing me not to move, and to let her know if I needed anything. After she left, I gave my mother a callback. She had called me a few times during the day, but unable to answer, I let it go to voicemail. She had been expecting me back hours ago, so understandably she was worried.

Hearing your own mother's voice on the phone after living through a day like that is it's own personal kind of hell. I didn't want to relive the day again. But I told her what happened. And again, crying with grief as I did so. She consoled me through her own tears. She told me that it would be okay. She told me that I would make it through.

. . . .

The next morning, I got up early. I was still dressed in the same clothes since I hadn't brought anything with me. I had barely slept through the night. If I slept through the night, that would mean that I had my first night of sleep without my baby. I didn't know how to deal with that.

My MIL knocked on our door. When I opened it, she was there with my FIL. He had come home from the office while I was in bed, so he didn't want to both me while I rested. But he wanted to see me before he left for work again. He gave me one of his fatherly hugs, and asked me how I was going. "I'm doing as well as can be expected, I guess." He gave me more fatherly advice and told me to take it as easy as possible. It was after all, still the week of my brother's wedding, and I would need to be capable to getting things done. I'm glad he had mentioned that to me. As someone who is task-oriented, having something to do would keep me occupied. It's what I needed to make it through the weekend.

I woke my husband up, and told him I was going to head back to my Mom's. He wanted me to stay with him. I asked him to come with me. I couldn't stay because I had my brother's car. So I ended up going back that morning, and he came after he got done with work that evening.

Being back at my Mom's was distressing as well. I had left her home pregnant. Upon return, I was no longer pregnant. The life that I had envisioned had shattered in a few mere moments. Things around me were still moving on, though. All I wanted to do was go back home to my bed, and never move. I walked in to the house, silently made my way to my childhood bedroom, crawled into bed, and racked with sobs. My parents and younger brother crowded me, held me, and cried with me.

That evening, my cousins were going to be coming over so we could iron the 50 table covers for the wedding. Two of them knew that we had done IVF and that we were expecting. Both of them had texted me that morning to see how my appointment had gone. Reluctantly, I responded to both of them to let them know. My older cousin showed up to my Mom's earlier than the other girls in the evening. She's been more of an older sister my entire life. She walked in holding a basket of fruit and pulled me in for a hug. We cried and she stroked my hair, telling me that she knew the pain, and that I would get through it. We would get through it.

I had to let my older brother and SIL know as well. I got many calls and texts from my siblings and my husband's siblings that day. Without fail, every call and text made me cry. By end of day on Wednesday, the bleeding had gotten heavier. The pain was excruciating. It hurt to move off the sofa. I couldn't walk, and I couldn't keep my feet dangling. So I spent the majority of the evening with the recliner sofa open, barely moving from there. There was still so much work to be done but subhan'Allah, my cousins handled everything. I was not allowed to move, had I even been able to.

. . . .

The next few days passed in a blur. I forced myself to get to work and focus on the wedding. My younger cousin came over every day to take care of all the small, last minute tasks. I got asked quite a few times by my aunts if I was okay, if I was feeling well. I would brush aside the question, saying I was tired. It was a family wedding, after all.

The day of the wedding, I had told myself that I wouldn't cry. Spoiler alert: I lied. I cried during the nikkah as the Imam made duah for my brother and his new bride for a life full of happiness and children. I cried as they both said "Yes" to one another. I cried as I hugged them tight. During the reception though, I held it together. I held it together as one of my old school teachers asked if I had any kids yet. I held it together as my extended family congregated at my Mom's house post reception. I held it together until 2 AM. And then the dam burst again.

. . . .

We packed up our things and went back home the next day. I know my brother wanted us to stay and hang out with him. But he understood we needed our time alone. The closer we got to home, the more my stomach would drop and the pit would grow bigger. We had left home as expecting parents. The congratulatory flowers were still in their vase. The strawberry covered chocolates were still in the refrigerator. The caffeine-free herbal tea collection gift set was still on the counter. I didn't take a look at any of that. Instead, we dropped our bags on the floor of our bedroom, and went to bed.

---

This post was not an easy one. I've left out some important little details. But writing all this down has wiped me out. I've waited almost 5 weeks (I think) to finally be able to have the energy to even sit down to type this. It has not been easy. I would have been 20 weeks this week. It has been three months since the miscarriage.

We are changing clinics. We won't be returning to our doctor. We've found a new office, and although the drive will be longer, we are hopeful that this new doc will be better for us. We have our first consultation appointment with her on Feb 2nd. COVID has made us slow down and think about next steps. We think this is best for now. We do not know yet what our next steps will be. But we will make that decision after our appointment.

As always, thank you for your patience and for the continuous thoughts and prayers. It is appreciated more than you know.