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I had to go through it alone


I miscarried in Paris in the winter of 2013.

I was staying at Four Seasons there and woke up in the middle of the night.

I thought I was going to bleed to death in the bathroom.

The pieces of flesh I was continually gushing away let me know that attempting to speak French and go to a hospital would be useless at that point.

Due to the state of my marriage on the way to divorce, I had to go through it alone and never told anyone but my big sister.

In hindsight, I was extremely sick by the time I got to Switzerland two days later.

I should have gotten medical attention but never did, sadly.

My relationship issues overshadowed the trauma at the time, so I’m still processing all these years later.


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