I had a miscarriage when I was 19. I was about 8 and a half weeks pregnant. There wasn't much pain but there was a lot of blood loss (I used to have heavy periods but this was much, much heavier with large blood clots). I don't get period pain but I did have cramping in my lower abdomen with the miscarriage. The cramping wasn't bad, I didn't need any pain relief, but I noticed it because it is something I never experience (to this day I'm fortunate to say I have never had a painful period or period cramps).
I was a student nurse on placement with the health visitor when it started. I was on a visit to an organisation, seeing what service they provided when I started bleeding - writing that now, I'm just grateful I wasn't on a home visit bleeding over some new mum's sofa. I made a mess there leaking blood. It was a service which provided accommodation to homeless mums. We were in the kitchen, sitting at the dining table and the the woman who ran the house was explaining the service they provided. She answered the phone which was behind me. I just remember, and I still remember it now, her patting me on the shoulder, I turned around and she pointed at the chair where there was a stream of blood running off the back of it. I was 19 and absolutely mortified. I left and phoned my mentor whom I should have been joining that afternoon, I told her I'd come down with a cold and wouldn't be in for the rest of the week. It was a Wednesday. I went home and went to bed. Getting up just caused me to flood everywhere so it was easier to stay in bed and just get up when I had to. I spent two days bleeding very heavily. It had settled massively by the Friday evening, so much so that I was able to meet up with friends (including the man whose baby it was - he never knew of the pregnancy or subsequent miscarriage) and I was back on placement on the Monday.
I didn't even think anything of it (even being on placement with newborns) for many years. Now though, almost 18 years later, I do think about it from time to time and occasionally I get a little weepy about it now. I've never told anyone about it in real life though. I feel guilty now about the fact that I didn't feel upset at the time. My only feelings at the time were utter embarrassment about bleeding like that and leaking everywhere in front of people including a fellow student nurse (she was at a different university but both universities had placements in the same area - I dreaded seeing her on placement) and frustration that I was still bleeding the following week when the 'father' (I still don't really know what to call him - we were only ever just friends) was moving away so I didn't get to sleep with him again.
I have cared for women having miscarriages and have seen the wide range of experiences they have gone through and the emotional effect it has often had on them in subsequent pregnancies.
(Sorry, I've written way more than I intended to).