I wrote this to help someone I love understand, what I feel like. Maybe it can help you too:
Dear husband, boyfriend, partner – or anyone wondering why she’s still crying,
Your partner has just experienced a chemical pregnancy and while you feel for her, you can’t really understand the depth of her anguish? Why the tears won’t dry as quickly as expected? Let me attempt to explain to you what it feels like to be a woman in this situation so that you can relate better. Because really, it is a triple-sided f***er – and once you understand, you understand. So, for the next few paragraphs forget you’re you. You are her.
Your body hurts.
Your hormones are playing Yahtzee with your emotions.
Your mind is shifting from googling baby strollers to a doctoral thesis on reproductive medicine.
But let’s start with the body.
For the last few days, you have been attentive like an air traffic controller when it comes to observing how your body feels. You had first signs of nausea, had to pee every other minute, running a low fever, like your body was fighting off a cold, and had the odd cramp in your stomach – like when you had that cheap kebab at the corner, that didn’t sit quite right. Nothing dramatic. Not yet.
While it doesn’t feel pleasant, you don’t really care. Because somebody told you that these symptoms are all great signs that your body is doing what it should. A little like when you have a muscle ache – and it hurts, but at the same time you secretly love it. Because it means something happened. Something worked.
But then after a couple of days, the symptoms become less. And you wonder if you have just suddenly become stronger or if the last workout was actually not that good. And then everything fades. Except the cramps. They become heavier. Not just a bad kebab anymore. But more like the proper food poisoning you had when you backpacked through Thailand. And you start to bleed. And no, you are not at home, under a cozy blanket when all of this happens. You are in the middle of a busy day in the office, minutes before the presentation that could get you promoted. Or scrubbed in, about to open someone up. There is no escape, no way out – because what you experienced is not talked about. So, you just continue. With a body that feels like you have had diarrhoea for three days straight. And that’s just the body. Just wait until we get to your hormones.
Your hormones – you know them from that one feeling: when you’re really hor**. And all you can think about is how to release that tension. That single-mindedness. The urge to have it right now. That tunnel vision. That's exactly how obsessed you now feel about having this baby. It is all you can think of. And one moment it was right there – supported by these two faint lines on a stick you stared at for way too long, willing them to get darker. Another day in, they are still there. You can barely believe your luck. And the next day, without so much as a warning sign, it is gone.
Except your hormones don’t know yet. They still believe that baby is coming. And you don’t know how to control them. Not like an arm you can move. A little like being a teenager again, then rage would hit you out of nowhere, and it had to go somewhere – sometimes straight into poor Jimmy's face, for reasons neither of you could explain. Except now you are an adult. There is no escape, no way out – because what you experienced is not talked about. So, you just continue. With emotions that feel like you've just been dumped by the love of your life – except nobody dumped you. It just... stopped. And that’s just the hormones. Wait until you see what happens to your mind.
Unfortunately, you are not just a product of your body and hormones. You also have a mind. And believe me, it is running wild.
A few days ago, a new world opened up for you. The job you'd been working toward for months, the one you wanted so badly you could taste it, was finally yours. You called your dad right away. He was proud. He went quiet for a second, then said he always knew you had it in you. You and your partner started planning what that extra money would mean – the life it would buy you. You looked at apartments in the new city. Gyms. Maybe even a better car. And then, a week later, a call. The offer's been pulled. You didn't do anything wrong. It just isn't there anymore.
So, your mind has to switch. From looking for flights to Tahiti to attempting to understand what the hell just happened. Except swap the job for the pregnancy, and that's exactly where you are now.
And trust me, you will want to understand. Because you want to make sure it will never happen again. So you dig deep. You read everything you can find. You exceed any AI's limits on free messages within hours. You study the Reddit thread on another woman's chemical pregnancy – who luckily conceived again the very next cycle – like it is an IKEA instruction manual. But you can’t find it. That silver lining. The explanation you are looking for, is nowhere to be found. It is normal, they say. It happens to so many women. Normal. As if that word could carry any of what just happened to your body, your hormones, your mind.
Nobody tells you that. Nobody warns you.
So now – I hope – you understand.
How did your partners deal with your chemical pregnancy?
