What I Wish Someone Had Told Me About Miscarrying at Home Alone
On my journey to becoming a single mom by choice at 40, I learned that miscarrriages are a common part of trying to conceive. And that’s true not just for womenpursuing fertility treatments after 40.
I didn’t know anything about miscarriages before I was pregnant. I didn’t even know that was a thing.
But I have often felt, throughout my life, that my body can handle a lot on its own without intervention.
Cuts and bruises? They heal.
Cold or fever? Chicken soup and rest.
I never considered that a miscarriage might require medical intervention.
Miscarrying the Natural Way – Twice
My first miscarriage happened a day before a flight. It was physically gruesome, but I continued with my flight anyway.
I was pretty lucky that I wasn’t already taking care of a kid, because I was pretty damn miserable on that flight.
I realized, through a fair amount of research online, that I should probably go to a clinic for a checkup. I decided I was well enough to go for a checkup when I could walk there alone.
In the meantime, I took it easy for a few days. I slept and ate.
Since that was my first pregnancy and it was a bit past two months, I saw formations of the fetus. I also experienced the contracting of my uterus, very light contractions, which shocked me.
It took about two hours for my body to expel the tissues.
But my body took care of it, I did not need drugs.
When my son was 1.5 I was shocked to find myself pregnant after only a year of fertility treatments at the age of almost 43!.
As I started to plan and dream, I went to my second ultrasound at 7 weeks and found out that the baby’s heartbeat had stopped.
The doctor told me I had two options: I could take a pill and miscarry at home or I could wait and have surgery. Since I had been pregnant even less time than before, I was fairly sure my body would take care of it.
Both my gynecologist and my fertility doctor thought that a natural miscarriage would take a long time, not be complete, and take my time. They both felt that it would be faster, most efficient and would allow me to begin trying again sooner.
I asked my gynecologist if I could just wait and see if my body would take care of it.
About a week and a half after seeing the ultrasound that confirmed that the baby had no heartbeat – deemed a missed miscarriage – I started bleeding. It was actually my second miscarriage (I had one a few months before the birth of my son) and this one was far more gradual and gentle than the one before.
I also learned through my own research that many first trimester miscarriages resolve naturally without medical intervention (three months being more of a gray area).
A Feeling of Victory, Not Loss
The first time I miscarried, I shared the experience in a subsidized therapy group for women considering single motherhood.
I quickly realized my emotional reaction was different from many of the other women there.
I wasn’t devastated in the way I expected to be. Instead, I felt relieved and oddly optimistic. Getting pregnant felt significant to me, especially because many women in the group were struggling to conceive entirely.
At the time, I was a few years younger than many of them, and I think that shaped my perspective. Instead of feeling hopeless, I felt encouraged that my body seemed capable of becoming pregnant.
That reaction confused some people.
There can be a strong expectation that miscarriage must feel emotionally catastrophic, and if it doesn’t, people may interpret that as emotional detachment or not wanting the pregnancy badly enough.
I also felt tremendous relief that my body was doing its best to deliver me with a healthy baby.
I don’t believe there is one “correct” way to experience miscarriage.
For me, the experience felt more physically intense than emotionally devastating. What I mostly felt was exhaustion, pain, relief at a break in fertility treatments but also frustration with them being interrupted, and the hope that next time it would be more fruitful.
Five months later, I became pregnant with my son.
A Break from Fertility Treatments and Perspective
For my second miscarriage, I actually did get the Misoprostol pill in case my body wasn’t able to take care of things.
I had to wait several months from the time of that ultrasound gone wrong until I could continue with fertility treatments.
- A few good weeks for the miscarriage to occur
- Another few weeks for my body to take care of it
- Another month for my body to show it had a period
It can be frustrating to have to stop fertility treatments. I had to do this many, many times due to a cyst, a polyp, going abroad for a month, extensive holidays here that made it almost impossible to go to the public medical system.
This time was different. I was honestly exhausted from it all.
It was also a bit hard for me to say goodbye to the pregnancy so quickly and return to my real life as an older woman trying to get pregnant.
Why I Chose Not to Take Misoprostol (a.k.a the abortion pill)
- It seems to intensify and accelerate the process. From my research, it seemed to often cause stronger cramping and side effects like diarrhea or vomiting, which are far less likely in a natural miscarriage.
- Some women describe difficult experiences with this drug. A friend told me she took this pill, and she felt like she suffered for no real reason. She had wanted to speed things up, but I think in the end it wasn’t worth it and she needed to have a D&C (she was further along than I). A co-worker also told me she had taken misoprostol but it hadn’t worked for her.
- It didn’t give me more control. My gynecologist sold this as though I could arrange for a babysitter or for my son to sleep somewhere, take misoprostol, have a bad time for 4-5 hours, and then carry on with things. My own research found that some women have miscarriages that take place within 4-5 hours of taking the pill, but others take a few days or even a few weeks.
Miscarrying at Home Can Be Less Frightening Than You Imagine
As a single mom, I wanted someone nearby in the small chance that there was a complication or I needed medical assistance. Thankfully, my experience was much more manageable than I had feared. For me, the miscarriage felt similar to a heavy period. I was able to manage the discomfort with over-the-counter medication, rest, and time at home.
One of the hardest parts beforehand was not knowing what to expect. The internet is filled with dramatic and frightening miscarriage stories, and while serious complications can absolutely happen and medical guidance is important, those stories can make it feel as though every miscarriage is an emergency. In reality, many women are able to miscarry naturally at home without medical intervention.
I also learned how personal miscarriage can be. My reaction was not the one people expected. More than grief, I mostly felt relief that I could become pregnant and hope that I could try again soon. The experience reminded me that miscarriage is not only physically different for every woman, but emotionally different too.
If you are going through this now, my hope is simply that this article makes the experience feel a little less frightening, a little less isolating, and a little more understandable.
If you’re still deciding whether to have a baby on your own after a miscarriage, this step-by-step guide for single mothers by choice can help you prepare emotionally, financially, and practically.
Already committed to solo motherhood? Learn how to choose a sperm donor with more clarity and confidence — so you can feel secure in your decision not just today, but for years to come.