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So I just saw some stuff about miscarriage and pro choice people minimizing the loss that it is and you know what? I’m *really* tired of this so I’m gonna tell y’all a little story. My story.
Obvious trigger warning.
Obvious trigger warning.
I was being raped. Almost daily. Years of it. I knew I had missed my period but I’m irregular so I wasn’t too worried. At first. I did realize soon I was pregnant with the baby of my rapist.
What a terrifying place to find yourself in at 15. My rapists’ baby. My brother’s baby. I was so scared of what might happen to me.
Then I realized something. This tiny little miracle had a purpose. She wasn’t simply a product of rape. She wasn’t something to be torn apart and thrown in the trash. She wasn’t his baby. She was MY baby, and I wanted her.
I hadn’t had more than a week of having decided this and planning the next steps in saving her until the day came where I would have to say goodbye.
I was in class taking a practice exam before the end of the term when I started bleeding. My immediate reaction was “oh, my period”. I turned pale when I realized that wasn’t possible if I was pregnant.
Oh no oh no oh NO FUCK. I rushed to go to the bathroom. I started bleeding harder through my skirt (thank the Lord it was black) and I sat on the toilet. I was crying and trying to smother my sobs in my hoodie as I fumbled to google miscarriage symptoms.
More blood and tissue and clots came out. I couldn’t handle this. Why now why me why her? After all this? I need her. At a point I felt something a little more than the tissue I’d previously felt. It wasn’t very big at all.
Almost instinctively I stuck my hand under myself to catch it. I didn’t know it was her. I didn’t know if I just got all the blood off that little sack I would see her precious eyes. Her tiny feet. little fingers. My baby girl.
I thought that was all she was. A little blob. This is a common misunderstanding with miscarriages I would later come to know.
I dropped her and after some more bleeding flushed my daughter down the toilet. I cried harder than I think I ever have and threw up once. I don’t know if that was from stress or pain or both.
I requested that I get some pants from home at the front desk with a little blood still on my legs. I will never forget that day as long as I live. I later named my baby Rachel Liora. Innocent light. My beautiful girl.
I know this is really long but I need people to understand what they’re doing to dehumanize these children and the effect it has. My baby was 8-9 weeks when she died. I love her so so much. Thanks if you made it to the bottom.
