I was sweating, my legs wobbled, and my uterus felt like it was being clamped with a wrench, yanked, and then twisted. It was unbearable.
I remembered hearing stories of people having miscarriages in mall bathrooms, teens who didn't know they were pregnant to begin with - but I couldn't be having a miscarriage!
Twenty minutes later, a police officer showed up and asked me the same set of questions as the security guard. They took my pain seriously.
As I entered general GYN at Jamaica, I placed my luggage on the empty seat in the busy waiting area and crouched against the wall, relieved yet scared.
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