I've planned to write a post this week for two months. It was supposed to be full of joy and excitement. Instead it's going to be full of loss, pain, and sorrow.
I found out on Sept. 13th that I was pregnant. I remember the exact date because it's DH's birthday, but that was a complete accident. I realized that morning that my FCP had told me to take a test on P+14 or 15, and that morning happened to be P+15. I had zero expectations. I knew there could be a chance it was positive since we did TTC on my peak day, but it was only my second cycle since Marshall was born, and the first that we would have had a chance to conceive. So I was in shock when I got the BFP.
I've been dying to post about my first trimester because it has been filled with ups and downs and I've needed your support. But my mom was coming to town this past weekend and I really wanted to tell her in person. Since family has access to this blog, I didn't want to take a chance of her finding out this way.
I called the doc and got my blood test and had my first appointment, which was pretty routine since I had just been there a year and a half ago. I had two ultrasounds, around 6 & 7 weeks. They were a little unnerving. In the first, the gestational sac only measured 5 weeks and they didn't see the fetal pole. TCIE assured me that this is normal and not to worry. My second ultrasound was at 7 weeks and we saw the heartbeat, but the baby only measured about 6 weeks. Although my doc was happy and said it was consistent with the first and the heartbeat was strong so I didn't worry. During the next few weeks my levels were monitored and were always perfect so I felt comfortable.
I had a routine appointment at 9 weeks and she didn't hear a heartbeat, but she assured me that this was normal and she could hear the uterine vessels which meant the baby was growing. So again - I didn't worry. Three weeks later, at 11 weeks & 6 days, I had another appointment. Still no heartbeat. Doc was certain it was because I have a tilted uterus which makes it harder to hear (and I was technically not 12 weeks yet), but wanted to be sure, so we scheduled an ultrasound for the next day.
I was worried, but tried to stay positive. After the u/s tech was done, I immediately knew something was wrong. Instead of bringing my DH into the room to see the baby, she said she needed to show the images to the radiologist. She tried assuring me that "this is routine procedure." But I'm not stupid. It's the exact same thing they told us when we lost Marshall's twin. When everything is fine, they just call in DH and show us the baby. They seriously need a new procedure.
I was made to wait about 20 minutes before they finally told us to go upstairs to the OB's office and talk to a doctor. I knew it was over. After another 15 minute wait he finally called me into a room and told me the baby only measured 8 weeks (I was now 12) and there was no heartbeat.
He told me I could have a D&C, wait for it to happen, or he could give me a pill to speed up the process. I've never been here before. I didn't know what to do or think. He told me to go home and think about it and get in touch.
Just this choice was traumatic and painful for me. In my line of work, "D&C" has a certain connotation that didn't sit well with me (even though I knew the baby was already gone). On the other hand, the thought of passing this baby at home was something I couldn't bear. After asking advice from some bloggers (you know who you are, and I can't thank you enough), the next day I elected to have a D&C under sedation. This was Friday afternoon and I was able to call my doc back and get it scheduled for 9am Saturday morning.
I felt so relieved just having made a decision. I was unstable enough just having learned I lost a baby, but then the decision of "what to do" just piled on the agony. So it was a huge weight lifted when I made the decision and had the procedure scheduled. The doctor said there was still a chance I could miscarry overnight. I told him how terrified I was that I would pass the baby at home. He said that since the baby had been gone for so long, there would likely not be any recognizable body. For my sanity, I had to believe that.
The relief didn't last. I started bleeding at 8:30 Friday night. A lot. I know I don't have to tell a lot of you how unbelievably horrible miscarriage is. But it's nothing I could have even imagined. I was so pissed that God didn't at least let this wait until morning. It was all such a nightmare, and then He had to go and keep piling on the shit. But if there was a silver lining to all of this mess, it's that it happened at night when DH was at home, and it happened the weekend my mom was visiting. At least she was able to be home with the boys.
My poor husband. He was there for me through it all. He's usually a pretty unemotional guy, but I've never seen him like this before. He was visibly distraught. But he was there. He was my rock through all of it and I absolutely couldn't have gotten through it in one piece without him.
Especially since he had to drive me to the hospital at 2am. The bleeding got so bad that I was feeling faint and came close to passing out several times. He called the doc who told us to come to the hospital immediately. I was terrified to get into the car because I was still bleeding but I knew we had no choice.
When we got there by blood pressure was extremely low and I had tachycardia (heart rate over 100). And apparently I was as white a ghost. They put me on IV and a heart monitor. Thank God they were able to get my heart rate down rather quickly, and stabilize my blood pressure.
They took me to the OR around 3:30am and I got an emergency D&C. They told me there was a chance I would need a blood transfusion. The procedure didn't take long and I was only under an IV sedative. I had to stay at the hospital all day on Saturday so they could monitor me, and make sure my blood count went up, because there was still a chance I'd need a transfusion. They finally released me at 6pm and were happy with my count - it was low, but within range of not needing one.
I'm supposed to take it easy this week. I still get woozy sometimes and I have a headache that I cannot shake. But physically I'm getting better. Emotionally it's still rough but I've gotten out the last 2 days (and showered and dressed) and that seems to have helped a lot, although certain things tend to set me off.
We'll call this one the "logistics" post. I'm sure there will be a few "emotional posts" in the next few days. But in the meantime, thank you to those who already know my story and have been praying. I assure you, the prayers are felt.