For those of you who know me and for those of you who have read my blogs, you all know I had covid last year and it was incredibly scary! But what most of you don't know and what I didn't even know is that when I had it, I was 4 weeks pregnant. . . .
March 2020
I had checked into the emergency room and before the nurses started all of the x-rays and tests they asked me if I was pregnant. At that time, my husband and I weren't deliberately trying but we weren't not trying either if you know what I mean! I told them that I was expecting to get my period the very next day so I highly doubted it. But just to be sure, they gave me a pregnancy test and when I peed on it, a faint positive line instantly appeared.
HUH???? My mind was on covid and the fact that I had so much trouble breathing. How was I possibly pregnant? Maybe something was wrong with that test. It was such a faint line. Maybe it was just an old test or something. The nurses then took my blood as this would be the most accurate way of determining if I was actually pregnant or not. I had to wait a few hours for this test to come back before any of the covid screening. My mind was racing. Here I thought my life was going to end but it turned out that I was going to give life?! If I was indeed pregnant, would the baby be okay? Hospitals around the world were overflowing at this time. Would they have room for me in 8 months when I come back to deliver? So many questions! So many thoughts! The wait for that blood test was indeed a very long wait.
The doctor finally came back in with a smile on her face. "Congratulations! You're pregnant!" she said.
My mouth dropped. I was in absolute shock.
Because I was so early on in the pregnancy they were able to continue with the x-rays and what not. They said I had covid but I had no heart or lung damage and I could be discharged and recover from home.
"But what about the baby?" I asked. "Is the baby going to be okay?"
They said that with it being a new virus there were no studies on how it affects pregnancy but it was an upper respiratory virus and it shouldn't affect the fetus.
Alrighty then.
I told my husband and he was in just as much shock as I was. This visit to the hospital happened in the middle of the night, so the next morning when I woke up I was still in disbelief. It felt like a weird dream. But sure enough, I didn't get my period. The next ten days were a mix of joy over me being pregnant but also of high concern as my chest was in constant pain and every breath of mine was still difficult to take.
However, the doctors were right. I did recover at home. After about 10 days, my chest stopped hurting and my breathing went back to normal. I was able to talk freely, move freely, take walks and even run again. I still hadn't gotten my period so I guess I really was pregnant! I downloaded a pregnancy app and I got letters in the mail telling me when my first ultrasound would be. The baby's due date was December 6th. How exciting!
It was now April of 2020 and the weather was great here in Scotland. I made sure to take one hour walks everyday so that I could stay healthy and fit for my baby. I had no nausea and plenty of energy so I was on a roll. I stopped drinking coffee and I tracked how big my baby was getting on the app. One thing I kept on thinking about was the baby's soul.
When does the soul enter the womb and into the developing baby? Is it at conception? Is it when there is a heartbeat? Does it enter the baby at birth? No one really knows and I guess that's why there is so much controversy over abortions. I won't get started on that especially because I am really mad at Texas right now! But I always thought about it and wondered about it. Then one night something interesting happened.
I am always cold in Scotland. ALWAYS. When everyone else is wearing shorts outside, you will see me wearing a sweater. And at home I always have a blanket on. I often feel shivers down my back (this could also be due to low sugar or iron or something) but you know what I mean! Well, one night around 6 weeks of my pregnancy, I woke up and I felt an overwhelming warm shiver in my back. It was just a lovely few seconds of warmness that engulfed me. I could think one thing and one thing only: The soul had just entered the womb!
I know it sounds very weird and maybe even a little crazy. But in my heart, I think that's when the soul entered. You know what's even crazier? I already knew the gender as well. I knew that this little baby was going to be a girl. And I was so excited because I really wanted a girl. Prior Indian generations all wanted boys because of retirement purposes and a bunch of other cultural b.s. but I feel like our new generation really wants girls now. We now have 401ks and pensions so we don't need to fully depend on our children for retirement anymore! We can just enjoy them for who they are. (But, another blog for another time!)
Another week went by. My app said that my baby was now the size of a blueberry. My husband wanted to hold off on telling anyone until 12 weeks, but I was so excited. I convinced him to at least tell our immediate families. And so we told our parents and siblings and they couldn't have been more happy and excited for us.
I was still taking my hourly walks everyday and it was great. Another week went by and I was now 8 weeks. I had so much energy that one day I even took a two hour walk. I was determined to be as fit as possible.
But, the next day I would go on to completely regret that two hour walk. I felt really tired all of a sudden. I took a nap which was very uncommon and when I woke up and used the restroom I had a pink discharge coming out of me. I told my husband and I called the National Health Service. They said that it was no reason to worry but if it turned into bright red blood to call them back.
Maybe it was that two hour walk that made me so tired and caused the pick discharge. I thought to myself, "maybe I'll just stick to one hour walks!"
But a couple hours later, I used the restroom again and there it was:
Bright red blood.
My heart sank to the pit of my stomach. Up until that point in my life, I had been through several scary and horrible incidents. My parents had gotten divorced when I was a child. I almost drowned once at Seaworld. I had gone through multiple breakups. My ex's pit bull once attacked my beautiful husky. But out of everything that I had been through in my life, nothing and I mean nothing was scarier and more painful than that moment when I saw bright red blood coming out of me. I wasn't worried about myself or my body. I was only worried about my 8 week old baby and what was happening to her.
I screamed and I cried. We called the National Health Service again. They said we could go to the hospital but there wasn't anything that they could really do to stop it. They just prepared me for what was going to happen. I kept on bleeding and bleeding and then I felt the excruciating pain.
I've always been one of those lucky ones that never actually got cramps on her period. I always get a nasty headache and thats about it. So I wasn't at all prepared for these cramps which I would later learn were actually contractions because the fetus was leaving my body. Fetus. I hate that word. I know thats what it is. But, it was my baby. Even though it was incredibly painful to my physical self, it was still no where near the emotional turmoil that I was going through.
What did I do wrong? Was it that two hour walk? I had been intimate with my husband just two days prior. Was that it? It couldn't have been covid. I already beat that. What was it then? I didn't know what caused this miscarriage but I knew it was my fault. My body had failed me. In an effort to lift me up, on the way to the hospital, my husband said that maybe the baby is still in there. But I felt the cold. I knew that the soul left. When I arrived at the hospital they just confirmed what I already knew. But they scheduled me to come in the next day for an ultrasound. I had to go in by myself because of covid. When they did the ultrasound, there I saw an empty womb with some leftover pregnancy tissue and no heartbeat. I was absolutely heartbroken.
I kept on asking the doctors what I did wrong. Why did this happen? They said that no one truly knows the cause of a miscarriage but as long as I wasn't smoking or drinking I did nothing wrong. I still wouldn't accept that though. To make matters worse, all of the pregnancy tissue didn't come out in a matter of days like it was supposed to. Every day I bled a little bit and this went on for a month. The doctors said that if it all doesn't come out naturally, they would have to complete a D&C procedure and go into my uterus and scrape it out. Scrape it out??? No thank you.
I just waited. And cried. And waited. And cried. It was like my body didn't want to let go. I know I couldn't let go. In May, it was Mother's Day in America and I woke up crying uncontrollably. What had I done wrong? Why did this happen to me? The doctors said it wasn't my fault. My husband said it wasn't my fault. All of my friends and family said it wasn't my fault. But I still blamed myself. I often woke up in the middle of the night and I would just cry. Since America was in a time zone that was several hours behind the U.K. I called my friends back home. I remember crying to one of them in particular and I asked her why the baby's soul had visited me for such a short period of time. Why did she leave so quickly? My beautiful friend then said something that I will never forget.
She said, "Maybe now just wasn't the right time. Maybe your body has to prepare for pregnancy. How do you know that same soul won't return to you when you get pregnant again?"
Then my sister said something incredibly soulful as well. She said, "Maybe the soul had to visit this world for a brief period of time to complete its last karmas and you were the vessel that held this soul before it's final destination."
These two statements gave me the strength, courage, and hope to keep going.
After a whole month I finally stopped bleeding. I went in for a final ultrasound and all of the pregnancy tissue was gone. I thankfully didn't need to get the D&C procedure. After that hospital appointment, my husband and I went to the Gurudwara and prayed for that soul and to hopefully get pregnant again.
Even though I was getting better physically and emotionally and I had accepted what happened, I still blamed myself for the longest time. I would forever hold December 6th close to my heart. But down the line God was going to give me a second chance and God was really going to show me that maybe, just maybe, it wasn't my fault. . .
Bhull Chuk Maaf
Christine Kaur
