Dealing silently with an early miscarriage was a heartbreak I didn’t realize would take a huge toll on my mental health.
Looking back on that fateful day this time last year, I only realize now that my early miscarriage took place during Baby Loss Awareness Week. I remember even reading Trina Epilepsia’s article on the Vestige of Miscarriage when I didn’t know I was pregnant yet. Prior to that, my husband and I had been trying to conceive for about six months with false alarms here and there. When we finally saw two faint lines on a pregnancy test I took on October 6, we were both thrilled and in disbelief! It was so surreal that I ended up taking two more pregnancy tests the next day—and they showed the same two lines.
How One Day Changed Everything
In a snap of a finger, everything changed. October 12 was a Monday and I went about my usual routine of preparing to work from home. After breakfast, I was putting together products to write about when I felt a sudden gush—the kind that usually alerts me my monthly visitor has arrived. My heart dropped as I ran to the bathroom. As much as I wanted to stay hopeful, my instinct whispered that it wasn’t implantation bleeding.
The day became a whirlwind of events in the nearest hospital my husband and I ran to, Makati Medical Center. My ultrasound showed there were no signs of pregnancy. But the blood test confirmed otherwise—despite my low levels of HCG, a hormone produced in the body during pregnancy. The on-call OB-Gyne kept assuring me to stay positive and observe the bleeding. I bled heavily for the next five days before I was instructed to take another pregnancy test. This time, only one line appeared.
The Silent Grief of an Early Miscarriage
My husband and I chose not to tell our families anymore. We didn’t want our very first baby-related news to be a sad one. But keeping it a secret made it harder for me to acknowledge. And in the next few months, the experience eventually took its toll.
I lost my motivation to work. In fact, the thought of waking up to work filled me with dread and anxiety. YouTube ads that showed babies in diapers caused me to break down at random times in front of my computer. There were family dinners where I had to excuse myself to cry in the bathroom. Sometimes, I hated myself for it. I kept reprimanding myself that I was just overreacting. I would even say over and over that if you read the statistics, it happens in 1 out of 4 women. There were also moments I found a bit of comfort in reading stories like Meghan Markle‘s and Crissy Teigen‘s.
But the longer I kept quiet, the more frequently my breakdowns happened. Finally, my husband and I decided to tell our families. Doing so helped me slowly accept that at the end of the day, no matter how early it was in my pregnancy, it was still my baby. That I had so much love to give him or her.
A Rainbow of Hope
It’s been exactly a year since that fateful day. If I could go back to those moments, I would have taken a few days off to sleep and process my emotions. It took months for me to recover. But I hope that in sharing my story, I’m able to help others going through something similar. If you’re not yet ready to open up, it’s okay. Take your time. Some semblance of hope I can offer is that I’m now seven months pregnant with a baby girl who I consider our biggest blessing. And I can’t wait to shower her with the same unconditional love I would have given my unborn baby.