That day that I would have been due. December 6. With my first miscarriage anniversary being Thanksgiving Day and this due date, I'm seriously thinking it's a good idea to just plan to crawl in a hole for a couple of weeks a year from now on.
All the ladies in the group have gotten much closer, and as we all approach our due dates in the coming weeks, I know we have each other. And for that, I'm supremely grateful.
Monday, December 3, 2012
Saturday, June 2, 2012
Making my way through moving on
It's been a while since I've updated... Finally started my first cycle since the D&C. Huz and I have discussed trying again this month, and I'm so back and forth with it. He's said it's totally up to me since I'm the one who has the physical aspects of it all - good or bad. One minute, I can't wait to try again, the next, I realize maybe I'm not meant to be pregnant. Not that I'm not meant to be a mother, but maybe I need to look at other options (adoption.) I really would love to be a mommy, but the possibility of another loss scares the shit out of me. For now, I'm really going to just focus on today - every day.
I still feel like I lost a whole month, and I need to get back to living life. It's such a stumble to go through this. Not only did I have the loss, but also the time leading up to it. It never felt right, so I was in a haze for the weeks I was "pregnant." I say pregnant in quotes because it helps me in some sick way to think I never really was since there's no baby at the end.
My online group has been holding steady at 45 for a while, so the fact that the new members joining slowing down helps me. I'm so sad for each of them. The saddest part is, there's a new group of Jan and Feb mommies probably going through the same stuff now, and I wonder - who's there for them?
I still feel like I lost a whole month, and I need to get back to living life. It's such a stumble to go through this. Not only did I have the loss, but also the time leading up to it. It never felt right, so I was in a haze for the weeks I was "pregnant." I say pregnant in quotes because it helps me in some sick way to think I never really was since there's no baby at the end.
My online group has been holding steady at 45 for a while, so the fact that the new members joining slowing down helps me. I'm so sad for each of them. The saddest part is, there's a new group of Jan and Feb mommies probably going through the same stuff now, and I wonder - who's there for them?
Monday, May 21, 2012
My little online support group
We've grown from 3 members on 4/30/12 to 41 with 3 invitations out today, 5/21/12. WTH????
Sunday, May 20, 2012
The worst emotion of the grieving process is...
...acceptance. For me at least. But I'm there. Acceptance feels like giving in, like giving up, and along with that comes guilt. I've been feeling better each day, and yesterday was such a beautiful day here that I didn't even have to try, I got up, went to a community event, went to the nursery (of the plant variety) and got flowers to plant. Came home and planted all of the flowers, cleaned my car inside and out, and went to the grocery store. Most productive day I've had in months.
Through this chain of events, I lost a month. I took the home pregnancy test on 3/30, and found out on 4/30 that there was no longer a heartbeat (with events in between and after that have been outlined in previous posts.) In those 4 short weeks, between the excitement/fear/hormones at the beginning to the sadness/fear/hormones at the end, I lost a month - plus a couple of weeks, actually. I'm not even exaggerating - I was cleaning up my work email on Friday and came across several that had needed my response in April. I let my housework go. My poor husband has been living with a robot. My dogs haven't had anyone play fetch with them in weeks. I literally lost a whole month, and realized yesterday that if I didn't get my shit together, I was going to lose a lot more.
My boss has been wonderful, but I know I have to get that focus back. My staff doesn't know what happened, but I'm sure they know I've been absent and unresponsive. The beautiful day yesterday, and the fact that it's the time of year for them to be a regular occurrence made me realize that I have to get back to life, MY life. That makes me feel so guilty, but it is in fact my life, in which I have a great career, wonderful husband, beautiful home, and perfect fur babies. Maybe someday I'll have a human baby as well, but not if I don't take care of the life I currently have. I've been eating like crap, not drinking enough water, not exercising. I picked up right where I left off with smoking. I have to move forward in order to even have a chance at giving this another shot. And that makes me feel terrible.
Through this chain of events, I lost a month. I took the home pregnancy test on 3/30, and found out on 4/30 that there was no longer a heartbeat (with events in between and after that have been outlined in previous posts.) In those 4 short weeks, between the excitement/fear/hormones at the beginning to the sadness/fear/hormones at the end, I lost a month - plus a couple of weeks, actually. I'm not even exaggerating - I was cleaning up my work email on Friday and came across several that had needed my response in April. I let my housework go. My poor husband has been living with a robot. My dogs haven't had anyone play fetch with them in weeks. I literally lost a whole month, and realized yesterday that if I didn't get my shit together, I was going to lose a lot more.
My boss has been wonderful, but I know I have to get that focus back. My staff doesn't know what happened, but I'm sure they know I've been absent and unresponsive. The beautiful day yesterday, and the fact that it's the time of year for them to be a regular occurrence made me realize that I have to get back to life, MY life. That makes me feel so guilty, but it is in fact my life, in which I have a great career, wonderful husband, beautiful home, and perfect fur babies. Maybe someday I'll have a human baby as well, but not if I don't take care of the life I currently have. I've been eating like crap, not drinking enough water, not exercising. I picked up right where I left off with smoking. I have to move forward in order to even have a chance at giving this another shot. And that makes me feel terrible.
Tuesday, May 15, 2012
How not to help a woman cope
They say the stats are 1 in 4 pregnancies end in miscarriage. One in four. So 75% of the time, a mother gets to take her baby home to the nursery that she’s outfitted so perfectly. But I’m sure if you’ve found your way here, you’re sick of hearing stats. Everyone from your doctor to your aunt to your long lost high school friend wants to give you stats when/if they hear you’ve had a miscarriage. Screw stats. I’m done with stats.
However, it was not lost on me that the stat reads “1 in 4 pregnancies,” not one in four women. I’ve been unlucky enough to experience this twice, so I’m something of a pro. Need to know what they will do when you show up at an ER at 5:30 am on Thanksgiving Day at about 5 weeks pregnant, bleeding? Have questions about a D&C or what it feels like to be 7 weeks pregnant? I’m your girl.
The first time it was 11 days after I had found out I was pregnant, and this time, I should have been 3 days shy of 10 weeks, had heard the heartbeat at 6 weeks 5 days, and on that fateful day, there was no longer a heartbeat. So not only am I in the “25%,” I’m also part of a very small number of women who lose the baby AFTER they hear a heartbeat. I’m sure that a lot of the reason I had heard the heartbeat has to do with the improvements in technology and the capabilities of today’s ultrasound machines, but the last stat I’ll share is that less than 5% of pregnancies are lost after the heartbeat is heard. They call that a “missed miscarriage.” I guess the fact that they are no longer using “delayed abortion” should be something of a consolation prize. The problem is, in my case, it wasn’t missed. I knew it, “they” didn’t want to listen. I’d been calling the doctors’ office every other day to tell them I had lost my pregnancy symptoms, had cramping, and I was spotting (bleeding.) Every one of the nurses just kept telling me to “up my fluids, put your feet up – and use pelvic rest – no vacuuming, no lifting, pushing, carrying or pulling, and definitely no sex.” Every one of them, every time I called. Like it’s the standard speech they have posted at their desks for that crazy mom to be who calls every other day. Until I called AGAIN and demanded to be seen or have my records sent to another doctor, no one would listen. Finally, whether it was due to the threat of losing a patient covered by some pretty good insurance, or just a compassionate nurse, I was seen on the day I should have been 9 weeks and 4 days.
Yes, today I am very angry with the very large practice of doctors, midwives, and nurses who not only confirmed that I was indeed pregnant after trips to three of their offices in the county, but also that my baby’s heart had stopped beating 2 weeks and 6 days earlier (yeah – hadn’t grown since the day I first saw AND heard it.) I’m angry that they didn’t check again, or have another tech take a look. I’m angry that they immediately set me up for a D&C the next day. I’m angry that I didn’t think to ask for another ultrasound the next day before they put me under, just to make sure. I’m angry that I made all these decisions while I was very highly likely in a textbook case of shock.
I have found support online with other women who are experiencing this same loss sadly at about the same time. We were all part of a “December 2012 mommies over 30” group. The day I learned there was no more heartbeat, I started “December 2012 should have been mommies over 30" group. The next day, there were 3 of us. Now, 16 days later, there are 31 of us. Some miscarried naturally at home or in a hospital, some have had the same fateful outcome that I have and “required” medical intervention, some have had ectopics, and some have no idea what happened. One day they were pregnant, the next they weren’t. One thing I can tell you, we are all grieving. We are all confused, sad, angry, guilty, ashamed, broken. Some of us have good days, and when we do it scares us. Scares us into thinking we won’t be good mothers if we’re allowing ourselves to feel better about the little one we lost. Scares us into thinking that maybe what that idiot said the other day is right – it wasn’t meant to be. Scares us to ever try again. Some have children at home, others like me don’t. Some have been trying for years, even with the help of IVF and IUI treatments, some were “lucky” enough to get pregnant the first try, and some weren’t trying at all. They have been my soldiers through this battle and have all helped me in ways only they can understand and I sincerely hope I’ve helped them along the way too. We support, we rant, we cry, we ask questions and answer them. Mostly, we’re just supporting each other in figuring out what the next step is, and on how to get back to moving through the motions of life.
One thing I’ve learned from this wonderful group of strong, heartbroken women is that people have no idea what to say to a woman when she’s experienced a loss. There are so many things that should never be said to a woman when she shares with you that she’s lost a little soul, yet people continue to say them anyway. If you’re reading this and you have never gone through this – this is where you pay attention.
First of all, the only people who can ever say “I understand” are women who have had a miscarriage. If you haven’t, all you are even half- way qualified to say is “I’m sorry.” If someone is sharing the news with you that they’ve had a miscarriage, they must either a) think a lot of you and your relationship with them or b) still be in shock. Even if she says any of these things, please refer back to the italicized, bold, underlined sentence above and repeat. Anything else is just horrible. I’ve compiled a list of what are probably the most disturbing yet most common things people have said to me and these women. If you don’t know what to say, tread lightly, as these words or any like them will likely be something that she will carry with her, and could likely tarnish the relationship you had for life.
1. Maybe it was for the best. (How is this for the best, exactly? What would be best is me bringing a beautiful healthy baby home in a few months!)
2. God is testing you. (For what? To know if I can grieve or get angry? To see if I can overcome? To get me to go to Church every Sunday? What is the test?)
3. You lost the baby because you are not married. (Ok, “religious” hypocritical idiot. How will He reward you for being so UN-Christian and judgmental?)
4. You haven't really even tried, you have to try again! (I’ve tried and I lost. Thanks for being there.)
5. There was something wrong with it. (First of all, let’s not say “it.” The moment I knew I was pregnant, maybe even before it was confirmed with a pregnancy test, “it” was a baby. My baby. As for the rest of that, I don’t even know what to say.)
6. Would you really want a special needs child? (What I want is a child. A living, breathing child to hold and love and kiss. Who says this one would have been special needs? Maybe the embryo just didn’t attach correctly because I should be taking a medication that I don’t know about.)
7. God knows what's he's doing. (I’m sure He does, but why not pick on a mother who’s shooting up every hour or one who’s going to end up killing her own children someday, why me – a healthy loving person who just wants to add a child to my family?)
8. It just wasn't time. (I don’t even know how I would have responded to this one. It’s not like a cake that is sunken in the middle and still gooey.)
9. You stressed out too much worrying. (Yeah, that’s what I need – a little more guilt. Also, while major life stressors like death and illness can cause the kind of stress that causes a miscarriage, every day stress and typical worries of a newly pregnant woman do not.)
10. This is very common. (Not as common as healthy babies who are born at full term. And if it’s so common, maybe then, instead of making me sit in a waiting room full of happy pregnant women to check on the physical aspects of this there should be miscarriage only doctors. And they shouldn’t wait until a woman has had multiple (typically 3) miscarriages to try run simple tests that could potentially STOP it from being so common!)
11. What's the big deal? It wasn't even really a baby yet. (refer to # 5 above)
And finally, my personal favorite…
12. At least you know you can get pregnant. (That’s great. So how about when I get knocked up again I’ll just carry the baby in a backpack for the first 12 weeks.)
A woman who has lost her child has lost her dreams of her little girl with rosy cheeks and bows in her hair. She’s lost her little boy’s first little league game. She hasn’t lost a blighted ovum or an embryo or a fetal pole. She’s lost her angel, and a little bit of her own heart and soul. Treat her delicately, let her heal. Clean her house or cook her dinner. Take the maternity clothes that she just bought back to the store for her. Help her if you can, and if you simply can’t, then just leave her alone. That would be far better than saying the wrong things when she’s beating herself up enough as it is and feels like the whole world is collapsing around her, or getting so big that she’s terrified to go out into it again.
One of the women wrote this in a post today to another woman who was beating herself up for having a good day. I wanted to share it because it needs to be heard and printed for the world to understand.
There is a reason why people used to have official periods of mourning and wear all black. The black was to let the general public know "hey - this person has just been through something really traumatic, and they may burst into tears/lose it/ yell at you for no reason, so tread lightly, be very understanding, and give them the space they need.” Withdrawing from public was so the person in mourning could feel all the things they wanted/needed to feel without having to worry about being around other people while they were trying to process these terrible emotions - grief can express itself in different ways, many of them not seeming to be "acceptable" to the general public (laughing fits, periods of calm and happiness like you are experiencing). If you feel better surrounding yourself with people then of course you should, but do not feel bad if you need to process this by yourself. And do not feel bad about having a good day. It is perfectly natural to have a good day, even in a bad time.
There are plenty of books on pregnancy and what to look for as you progress through the mystery. There are very few on how to cope with the loss of a not-yet-born baby that focus on the emotional aspects. I’ve looked – they aren’t out there, maybe because this topic is still so taboo. If you find yourself in this position, please please find a support system of women to help you through it. Could be online like my group. Could be in real life. ‘Cause hey, this is very common.
Saturday, May 12, 2012
Everything has new meaning.
Anyone who knows me in real life knows I'm a huge Dave Matthews Band fan. Like haven't missed a show in 15 years (16 years and couting starting next month!!) kind of fan. One of my favorite DMB songs is "Grey Street." I heard it in the car today, mostly having a pretty good day after a pedi, seeing 3 pregnant women and not feeling anything negative. (I did, however, catch myself staring at them for just a minute too long. Sorry, pregnant ladies! When another woman stares at your belly with a blank look in her eyes, chances are she's just suffered a miscarriage I guess.) Then for some reason, today, the lyrics took on a whole new meaning and I cried.
Video of live performance from YouTube:
http://youtu.be/yUWYToUinuw
Lyrics copied from:
http://www.davematthewsband.com/#/sounds
Grey Street
Oh look at how she listens
She says nothing of what she thinks
She just goes stumbling through her memories
Staring out on to Grey Street
She thinks, “Hey,
How did I come to this?
I dream myself a thousand times around the world,
But I can’t get out of this place”
There’s an emptiness inside her
And she’d do anything to fill it in
But all the colors mix together - to grey
And it breaks her heart
How she wishes it was different
She prays to God most every night
And though she swears it doesn’t listen
There’s still a hope in her it might
She says, “I pray
But my prayers they fall on deaf ears,
Am I supposed to take it on myself?
To get out of this place”
There’s loneliness inside her
And she’d do anything to fill it in
And though it’s red blood bleeding from her now
It feels like cold blue ice in her heart
When all the colors mix together - to grey
And it breaks her heart
There’s a stranger speaks outside her door
Says take what you can from your dreams
Make them as real as anything
It’d take the work out of the courage
But she says, “Please
There’s a crazy man that’s creeping outside my door,
I live on the corner of Grey Street and the end of the world”
There’s an emptiness inside her
And she’d do anything to fill it in
And though it’s red blood bleeding from her now
It’s more like cold blue ice in her heart
She feels like kicking out all the windows
And setting fire to this life
She could change everything about her using colors bold and bright
But all the colors mix together - to grey
And it breaks her heart
It breaks her heart
To grey
Video of live performance from YouTube:
http://youtu.be/yUWYToUinuw
Lyrics copied from:
http://www.davematthewsband.com/#/sounds
Grey Street
Oh look at how she listens
She says nothing of what she thinks
She just goes stumbling through her memories
Staring out on to Grey Street
She thinks, “Hey,
How did I come to this?
I dream myself a thousand times around the world,
But I can’t get out of this place”
There’s an emptiness inside her
And she’d do anything to fill it in
But all the colors mix together - to grey
And it breaks her heart
How she wishes it was different
She prays to God most every night
And though she swears it doesn’t listen
There’s still a hope in her it might
She says, “I pray
But my prayers they fall on deaf ears,
Am I supposed to take it on myself?
To get out of this place”
There’s loneliness inside her
And she’d do anything to fill it in
And though it’s red blood bleeding from her now
It feels like cold blue ice in her heart
When all the colors mix together - to grey
And it breaks her heart
There’s a stranger speaks outside her door
Says take what you can from your dreams
Make them as real as anything
It’d take the work out of the courage
But she says, “Please
There’s a crazy man that’s creeping outside my door,
I live on the corner of Grey Street and the end of the world”
There’s an emptiness inside her
And she’d do anything to fill it in
And though it’s red blood bleeding from her now
It’s more like cold blue ice in her heart
She feels like kicking out all the windows
And setting fire to this life
She could change everything about her using colors bold and bright
But all the colors mix together - to grey
And it breaks her heart
It breaks her heart
To grey
Thursday, May 10, 2012
Today, I got dressed.
I not only got dressed, but I put on jeans, not just yoga pants or new pj pants like I have for the last 10 days. (well, really, 40 days - since I got the BFP!) My hubby got home and reminded me that I said this morning we needed dog food. Since I don't want him to know just how much I pay for Blue Buffalo for my little man, I said I'd go out. I put on jeans that didn't fit last time I tried them, Easter Weekend. I actually wore a belly band and a long shirt with them that day because I was back in my hometown and not quite ready to share the news (thankfully) so I did my best to hide it all, and it worked.
So I got dressed and left my house for the first time since Saturday. I didn't even realize that was the last time I had. I consider myself lucky that I can work my schedule however I'd like and work from home as much as I want. However, this has been probably about the worst thing for me - I've just been getting more and more depressed and obsessing more and more. So today I got dressed, and I left.
Today was a typical Northeast Spring day. The sun was shining bright, not a could in the sky but it was only about 65 -70 ish out. Nice sweater w/ jeans and sunglasses day. I took this picture when I got home so that I could show you all:
But, about 10 miles north, a half hour earlier, as I'm leaving PetSmart, I see this:
So I got dressed and left my house for the first time since Saturday. I didn't even realize that was the last time I had. I consider myself lucky that I can work my schedule however I'd like and work from home as much as I want. However, this has been probably about the worst thing for me - I've just been getting more and more depressed and obsessing more and more. So today I got dressed, and I left.
Today was a typical Northeast Spring day. The sun was shining bright, not a could in the sky but it was only about 65 -70 ish out. Nice sweater w/ jeans and sunglasses day. I took this picture when I got home so that I could show you all:
Maybe sometimes a rainbow is just a rainbow, but today, it meant the world to me. For anyone reading this that doesn't know, the baby you get to bring home after a miscarriage is called a rainbow baby.
Tuesday, May 8, 2012
It's been a week today
I'm still on the emotional roller coaster, but it does get better each day. Came back to work yesterday, which luckily for me can mean going to the next room and not really having to see anyone - just email and phone calls. I don't know when I'll be ready to actually face people.
I had some pains yesterday that felt very much like ovulation pain, but that can't be, can it? One bout of bleeding, and nothing since. Hopefully that means this physical part is wrapping up and my body can start getting back to normal, whatever that is now. With the first MC, it took months to feel "normal" again, that one was natural, and what became normal was a new normal. I have no idea what to expect this time with the "medical intervention."
I cried a little last night, I woke up so angry yesterday that there was no longer a baby being formed inside. But, maybe we'll try again someday. Maybe not. It's something that is completely up to us, and frankly, I don't want to hear anyone's opinion... the last one I heard was "You haven't really even tried yet - you have to!" Ummm... I've gotten pregnant twice and miscarried twice - I call that trying. Oh well, people just don't know what to say, and that's OK. I have my awesome online support group of sadly, other women going through the same thing with pretty much the same timing, and honestly, they are the only people who have any idea of what I'm feeling and therefore are qualified to offer an opinion on any of it. I don't know what I would do without those ladies.
One breath, one moment, one day at a time!
I had some pains yesterday that felt very much like ovulation pain, but that can't be, can it? One bout of bleeding, and nothing since. Hopefully that means this physical part is wrapping up and my body can start getting back to normal, whatever that is now. With the first MC, it took months to feel "normal" again, that one was natural, and what became normal was a new normal. I have no idea what to expect this time with the "medical intervention."
I cried a little last night, I woke up so angry yesterday that there was no longer a baby being formed inside. But, maybe we'll try again someday. Maybe not. It's something that is completely up to us, and frankly, I don't want to hear anyone's opinion... the last one I heard was "You haven't really even tried yet - you have to!" Ummm... I've gotten pregnant twice and miscarried twice - I call that trying. Oh well, people just don't know what to say, and that's OK. I have my awesome online support group of sadly, other women going through the same thing with pretty much the same timing, and honestly, they are the only people who have any idea of what I'm feeling and therefore are qualified to offer an opinion on any of it. I don't know what I would do without those ladies.
One breath, one moment, one day at a time!
Sunday, May 6, 2012
Am I really feeling better?
Yesterday my husband did a great job keeping me out of the house. We got a dogwood tree to plant outside of my office window (which would have been the nursery had this progressed) and we went ahead with putting a deposit on a hot tub we had planned to get before we found out I was pregnant. We had put that to the side when I got the + since you can't enjoy them pregnant, but figured now, why not? Today, I've cleaned the bathroom, my office, and put 3 weeks worth of laundry plus a suitcase still packed from a month and a half ago away. I still dread going back to work tomorrow (even if the commute is just to the next room!)
One breath, one moment, one day at a time!
One breath, one moment, one day at a time!
Friday, May 4, 2012
4 days post "the terrible day"
Today I'm feeling kind of like myself again. Yesterday I woke up to what I can only imagine contractions must feel like and spent most of the day on the couch just crying a deep cry. I truly think I had been in shock up to that point. Today, I will make it to the shower, and I may even return the bag of maternity clothes I have sitting by the door. Maybe. Maybe not.
I'm already dreading the idea of going back to work next week and actually having to talk to people.
UPDATE - not only did I make it to the shower, but I did return that bag of clothes (the clerk asked me if I wanted the coupons and trials that were still in the bag - when I said no, I think she got it), treated myself to a white chocolate mocha, I got the new TV I've been wanting for my office, stopped at the grocery store to get things for dinner - AND came home and cleaned my kitchen, dusted, and swept the floors. A little more normal each day!
I'm already dreading the idea of going back to work next week and actually having to talk to people.
UPDATE - not only did I make it to the shower, but I did return that bag of clothes (the clerk asked me if I wanted the coupons and trials that were still in the bag - when I said no, I think she got it), treated myself to a white chocolate mocha, I got the new TV I've been wanting for my office, stopped at the grocery store to get things for dinner - AND came home and cleaned my kitchen, dusted, and swept the floors. A little more normal each day!
About the D&C
Copied from my wonderful online support group...
Posted 05/02/2012
I feel like I should start with a disclaimer...
I don't want to be an advocate, or encourage anyone to go this route if that's not what they want to do. But I wanted to share my experience at least from a physical perspective so that you would at least have some first hand information to reflect on in your decision making process. The worst part of the day (outside of knowing why I was there) was the waiting.
I had a D&C yesterday because the day before, after demanding an appointment to check spotting I'd had for about 2 weeks, we found that the baby hadn't grown since my last U/S at 6w5d, and there was no heartbeat. At the time, I told the doctor I wanted to think about it for a couple of days before making any decisions, so she gave me the lowdown on what to expect should this happen on it's own as it likely could since it had been over 2 weeks (I should have been 9w4d at my appointment on Monday.)
I had an appointment with the same doctor yesterday morning at 8:20 to go over the consent forms, expected outcome, etc. My husband took the day off to be with me, and of course, because someone has to drive you home. We arrived at the office at about 8:10 thinking that I would be going straight in for the procedure as well since the dr. had said the day before she would "tentatively" schedule me, but if I chose to cancel, that was ok too. I sat in the waiting room for a good hour, all the cute pregnant women coming in announcing they were there for an ultrasound with the same gleam in their eyes I had had just a couple of weeks ago. That was almost the toughest part of the day. When the doctor finally called me back at 9:00 (40 mins late) I was so sad, and cried through most of the visit. She then told me that surgery was scheduled for 2:00, meaning I have to be back at 12:30 and needed to have some pre-op blood work done in the lab of the connecting hospital before I left in the morning. Another waiting room, but this time mostly filled with new moms and their new babies, all sharing labor and delivery stories, comparing lack of sleep stories, etc. After the lady drew my blood, more tears, and all I could say was that I was sorry - that it wasn't due to her poking me, it was why I was there in the first place. I walked out of the room and didn't even look at my husband, just headed for the door and he completely understood what I was saying.
We came home after that, about 10:30 at this point, and just waited for 12:00 to head back for the procedure. We sat on our back deck and talked about all of this quite a bit. Should I ask for another ultrasound first just to be sure? Do we want to ask for the baby's remains to have a private burial? Why was this happening to us? Why does it happen to so many women? Is it our food supply, the water, the air?
At 12:00, we left to go back to the hospital, and when we got there, they immediately called me back and said they would call my husband back to sit with me after I was prepped. Prepped in this case apparently meant asking me if there was any domestic violence. When I said no, they brought him back. We were in one of probably 10-12 private little rooms with a recliner, two chairs (which my husband said were the most uncomfortable chairs known to man), several machines, and a TV. They had me change, hooked up IV fluids, and no less than 8 people (nurses, bereavement counselers, anesthesiologists, etc.) came in over the next few hours, every one of them starting with "I'm so sorry this is how we are meeting" and me crying with each introduction. At 1:50, I headed to the bathroom for what I thought was my last time as the D&C was scheduled for 2:00. I don't know if it was the full bag of fluids I had absorbed by now or what, but now I was bleeding.
As a side note - I was told not to eat the evening before which I was actually ok with as I wasn't really interested in food after the prior day, and my husband being the wonderful man that he is didn't want to eat in front of me, so he asked the nurses if there would be a window of opportunity for him to grab some food. They said the procedure would take about 30 mins, the doctor would want to find him to let him know how it went, and then he would have an hour or so while I was in recovery. So it sounded like by 2:30 or so, he'd be able to finally eat. He's not a happy man when he's hungry - and honestly, I think when his blood sugar drops, it's physical for him.
2:00 came and went. 2:30 came and went, 3:00, the anesthesiologist comes in and asks if I'd like something for my nerves, to which I said of course, but I hadn't met the doctor yet, and he said he needed to wait for that. He also explained that I could opt for local anesthesia only if I wanted, but he suggested general. I don't know why, but the thing about general anesthesia that freaks me out is the possibility of a tube down my throat, and he said there would be a tube, but not in my windpipe, just kind of laying against my tongue to ensure I was getting oxygen. I went for the general - I didn't want to feel or remember a thing.
I saw a woman I thought might be the doctor appear in the hallway several times, but she never came in. Finally, around 3:30, she stuck her head in, introduced herself, and asked if I had any questions. I was so angry at this point - though I tried really hard not to be. For her to be running behind I thought, something must have gone wrong in an earlier procedure. But I was pissed. I only responded, "It's not like I'm waiting for a pedicure here, I just want to get this show on the road. Waiting is what I was trying to avoid." About 10 mins later, the anesthesiologist and a nurse show up with a wheelchair and a syringe - I sat in the wheelchair and the anesthesiologist says "you'll be really high in about 30 seconds." He wasn't kidding!
We get to the OR, they have me step into the bed, start putting EKG sticker thingies on me, said goodnight, and I was out. Next thing I know, a nurse is rubbing my hand, the anesthesiologist is waking me up and saying "you bit your lip when I pulled the tube out, so that's gonna hurt" and he was right - ouch. At that point, that hurt worse than anything else. There looked to be about 12 people in the room, and within 30 seconds, it was me and two nurses and I was bawling. They took me to recovery, where they had told me to expect about an hour, but it seemed like I was only in there for about 1/2 hour. They then took me back out to the place where my husband and I were at the beginning, and the nurse went to find him who had told him to go eat - no more waiting, she would find him when it was over. He had just gotten his food, and I was in the clear to eat a little, which they actually make you do before you can leave. So I had my pretzels and Sierra Mist and some of his chicken tenders and french fries. I had to show them I could pee, and then we could go if I was feeling steady on my feet. Went to the bathroom, nurse saw what she had to see, I changed, but we still hadn't seen the doctor to tell us (actually, was supposed to tell my husband while I was still in recovery) so we had to wait. Finally, about 20 mins later, she popped her head in, said there were no complications, and we were out of there. It's now 5:30.
We stopped at CVS to get a prescription filled, and I felt some cramping, but nothing major. I got some Therma Care menstrual patches and a book, and we came home. I called my mom, messaged with you all for a bit, watched some TV, ate a grilled cheese, and laid on the couch. Other than some light cramps, I was feeling ok, and I hadn't bled alot, so I changed to a panty liner instead of the matress they had me use and put on some old pants just in case, Around 9:00, I started feeling like things were wearing off a bit, so I took 1/2 of a Vicodin (only prescribed because they kept saying Advil and ibuprofen doesn't agree with my stomach) and went to bed.
I've been up for a couple of hours now, and physically, I do feel OK. A little cramping, and my damn lip hurts, but other than that, physically ok.
This was the right choice for me. The pain of waiting it out, and possibly seeing the baby myself was just too much for me to bear. Incidentally, we did opt for burial, but through a local funeral home that does a mass burial of babies lost this way for free, and the service will be in June. My baby will be in a casket with other babies that share this awful outcome, but I will have a place to visit if I feel it's necessary. I've also been wanting to plant a dogwood tree outside of my office window, so that's the plan for this weekend.
This is a deeply personal choice, and please don't feel swayed one way or the other, but for me, the emotional and mental pain was enough for me to carry without the waiting for the physical. I woke up at about 4:00 this morning in tears thinking they were wrong and I should have asked for that ultrasound, but I saw it. The shape was wrong, there was no blood flow, and no flicker like I had seen the first time. I guess this is that denial part of the greiving process.
Prayers and hugs to all of you!
I don't want to be an advocate, or encourage anyone to go this route if that's not what they want to do. But I wanted to share my experience at least from a physical perspective so that you would at least have some first hand information to reflect on in your decision making process. The worst part of the day (outside of knowing why I was there) was the waiting.
I had a D&C yesterday because the day before, after demanding an appointment to check spotting I'd had for about 2 weeks, we found that the baby hadn't grown since my last U/S at 6w5d, and there was no heartbeat. At the time, I told the doctor I wanted to think about it for a couple of days before making any decisions, so she gave me the lowdown on what to expect should this happen on it's own as it likely could since it had been over 2 weeks (I should have been 9w4d at my appointment on Monday.)
I had an appointment with the same doctor yesterday morning at 8:20 to go over the consent forms, expected outcome, etc. My husband took the day off to be with me, and of course, because someone has to drive you home. We arrived at the office at about 8:10 thinking that I would be going straight in for the procedure as well since the dr. had said the day before she would "tentatively" schedule me, but if I chose to cancel, that was ok too. I sat in the waiting room for a good hour, all the cute pregnant women coming in announcing they were there for an ultrasound with the same gleam in their eyes I had had just a couple of weeks ago. That was almost the toughest part of the day. When the doctor finally called me back at 9:00 (40 mins late) I was so sad, and cried through most of the visit. She then told me that surgery was scheduled for 2:00, meaning I have to be back at 12:30 and needed to have some pre-op blood work done in the lab of the connecting hospital before I left in the morning. Another waiting room, but this time mostly filled with new moms and their new babies, all sharing labor and delivery stories, comparing lack of sleep stories, etc. After the lady drew my blood, more tears, and all I could say was that I was sorry - that it wasn't due to her poking me, it was why I was there in the first place. I walked out of the room and didn't even look at my husband, just headed for the door and he completely understood what I was saying.
We came home after that, about 10:30 at this point, and just waited for 12:00 to head back for the procedure. We sat on our back deck and talked about all of this quite a bit. Should I ask for another ultrasound first just to be sure? Do we want to ask for the baby's remains to have a private burial? Why was this happening to us? Why does it happen to so many women? Is it our food supply, the water, the air?
At 12:00, we left to go back to the hospital, and when we got there, they immediately called me back and said they would call my husband back to sit with me after I was prepped. Prepped in this case apparently meant asking me if there was any domestic violence. When I said no, they brought him back. We were in one of probably 10-12 private little rooms with a recliner, two chairs (which my husband said were the most uncomfortable chairs known to man), several machines, and a TV. They had me change, hooked up IV fluids, and no less than 8 people (nurses, bereavement counselers, anesthesiologists, etc.) came in over the next few hours, every one of them starting with "I'm so sorry this is how we are meeting" and me crying with each introduction. At 1:50, I headed to the bathroom for what I thought was my last time as the D&C was scheduled for 2:00. I don't know if it was the full bag of fluids I had absorbed by now or what, but now I was bleeding.
As a side note - I was told not to eat the evening before which I was actually ok with as I wasn't really interested in food after the prior day, and my husband being the wonderful man that he is didn't want to eat in front of me, so he asked the nurses if there would be a window of opportunity for him to grab some food. They said the procedure would take about 30 mins, the doctor would want to find him to let him know how it went, and then he would have an hour or so while I was in recovery. So it sounded like by 2:30 or so, he'd be able to finally eat. He's not a happy man when he's hungry - and honestly, I think when his blood sugar drops, it's physical for him.
2:00 came and went. 2:30 came and went, 3:00, the anesthesiologist comes in and asks if I'd like something for my nerves, to which I said of course, but I hadn't met the doctor yet, and he said he needed to wait for that. He also explained that I could opt for local anesthesia only if I wanted, but he suggested general. I don't know why, but the thing about general anesthesia that freaks me out is the possibility of a tube down my throat, and he said there would be a tube, but not in my windpipe, just kind of laying against my tongue to ensure I was getting oxygen. I went for the general - I didn't want to feel or remember a thing.
I saw a woman I thought might be the doctor appear in the hallway several times, but she never came in. Finally, around 3:30, she stuck her head in, introduced herself, and asked if I had any questions. I was so angry at this point - though I tried really hard not to be. For her to be running behind I thought, something must have gone wrong in an earlier procedure. But I was pissed. I only responded, "It's not like I'm waiting for a pedicure here, I just want to get this show on the road. Waiting is what I was trying to avoid." About 10 mins later, the anesthesiologist and a nurse show up with a wheelchair and a syringe - I sat in the wheelchair and the anesthesiologist says "you'll be really high in about 30 seconds." He wasn't kidding!
We get to the OR, they have me step into the bed, start putting EKG sticker thingies on me, said goodnight, and I was out. Next thing I know, a nurse is rubbing my hand, the anesthesiologist is waking me up and saying "you bit your lip when I pulled the tube out, so that's gonna hurt" and he was right - ouch. At that point, that hurt worse than anything else. There looked to be about 12 people in the room, and within 30 seconds, it was me and two nurses and I was bawling. They took me to recovery, where they had told me to expect about an hour, but it seemed like I was only in there for about 1/2 hour. They then took me back out to the place where my husband and I were at the beginning, and the nurse went to find him who had told him to go eat - no more waiting, she would find him when it was over. He had just gotten his food, and I was in the clear to eat a little, which they actually make you do before you can leave. So I had my pretzels and Sierra Mist and some of his chicken tenders and french fries. I had to show them I could pee, and then we could go if I was feeling steady on my feet. Went to the bathroom, nurse saw what she had to see, I changed, but we still hadn't seen the doctor to tell us (actually, was supposed to tell my husband while I was still in recovery) so we had to wait. Finally, about 20 mins later, she popped her head in, said there were no complications, and we were out of there. It's now 5:30.
We stopped at CVS to get a prescription filled, and I felt some cramping, but nothing major. I got some Therma Care menstrual patches and a book, and we came home. I called my mom, messaged with you all for a bit, watched some TV, ate a grilled cheese, and laid on the couch. Other than some light cramps, I was feeling ok, and I hadn't bled alot, so I changed to a panty liner instead of the matress they had me use and put on some old pants just in case, Around 9:00, I started feeling like things were wearing off a bit, so I took 1/2 of a Vicodin (only prescribed because they kept saying Advil and ibuprofen doesn't agree with my stomach) and went to bed.
I've been up for a couple of hours now, and physically, I do feel OK. A little cramping, and my damn lip hurts, but other than that, physically ok.
This was the right choice for me. The pain of waiting it out, and possibly seeing the baby myself was just too much for me to bear. Incidentally, we did opt for burial, but through a local funeral home that does a mass burial of babies lost this way for free, and the service will be in June. My baby will be in a casket with other babies that share this awful outcome, but I will have a place to visit if I feel it's necessary. I've also been wanting to plant a dogwood tree outside of my office window, so that's the plan for this weekend.
This is a deeply personal choice, and please don't feel swayed one way or the other, but for me, the emotional and mental pain was enough for me to carry without the waiting for the physical. I woke up at about 4:00 this morning in tears thinking they were wrong and I should have asked for that ultrasound, but I saw it. The shape was wrong, there was no blood flow, and no flicker like I had seen the first time. I guess this is that denial part of the greiving process.
Prayers and hugs to all of you!
Thursday, May 3, 2012
The desperation/horror of a second miscarriage.
Where to start... I've wanted to write a blog for over a year now, and recent life events have finally given me the push to start typing. My husband and and I have just gone through one of the - no - the single worst experience anyone who is in happily committed relationship that wants to grow their family can endure. We found out on Monday that the baby we had just learned a few weeks prior was successfully created no longer had a heartbeat. Not much else in life, I don't think, can deliver such a blow. Especially when it's your second time to receive such news.
We got married in June 2008 and having been together for 6 years at that point, we knew we wanted to start a family pretty quickly. Later that year, in November, we had a positive pregnancy test. Had this confirmed at my GP's office, and then on Thanksgiving morning, I woke up knowing that it was time to head to the ER. Between the shock and the drugs of that day, that's about all I have to say about that one. I think I was somewhere around 5 weeks that time.
Fast forward 4 years (almost) and on our vacation in March, we decided to try again. On March 30, I woke up to POAS (Pee On A Stick to all of you who don't spend your time on boards of TTC (Trying to Conceive) and expectant women everywhere) and the result was quickly two, solid, dark lines - positive! I woke my husband up at 6:30 AM to share the news - BTW, don't go this route if you're expecting a big reaction! I called the doctor later and scheduled an appointment to have it all confirmed, even though these home tests are pretty darn accurate. On April 10, we drove to the doctors office, had the test confirmed, 5 tubes of blood drawn, and I had a pelvic exam. I shared with the CNP that I had experienced a miscarriage previously, and she assured me that one time does not put you at any higher risk, but just so I could feel better, she would have an ultrasound scheduled ASAP. The ultrasound was scheduled for the next day - I was so excited!
We go to another of the 6 or 7 offices this practice has the next day for the "photo shoot" extremely excited - I believed I had already made it past the point of the last miscarriage, so I was feeling pretty good about things. The tech spent alot of time looking at my ovaries and said that there was "something of concern going on near my right ovary" and she needed to have the practitioner on duty take a look. But before she did, she did also show me a gestational sac with a perfect little diamond ring right in the middle - the yolk sac and the cells of my developing baby! However, the CNP then comes in, introduces herself and tells us that they are concerned that I'm having an ectopic pregnancy and I will have to have another ultrasound next week. Wait - didn't we just see a yolk sac diamond ring looking thing right where it was supposed to be?? My next appointment was scheduled for May 9, so they got me scheduled for the following week for more blood tests and another ultrasound and cancelled that one. The next day, I had some spotting, which will always freak a pregnant woman out, but I just chalked it up to the pelvic exam the day before - they can be a little intrusive!
On April 17, we went for our first big "intake" appointment and ultrasound. We saw the most beautiful images of our little lizard that day (with the fetal pole, that's what they look like!) and his/her little heartbeat. We were also lucky enough to hear the heartbeat - 115 beats per minute. It was just about the most beautiful sound I'd ever heard. So all the spotting, etc I had - a long gone worry and my husband got to say "I told you so!" The ultrasound tech said the area of concern on my right side appeared to be a hemorrhagic corpus letum cyst, and that it could cause some bleeding, so try not to worry, but call if I did have any bleeding. She said this cyst would actually produce the hormones needed to sustain the pregnancy until the placenta took over. The baby was measuring 6 weeks, 5 days - right where it should be. She gave us 2 photos which we promptly emailed to the family we had shared the news with. We then saw the doctor who asked if we had seen what we wanted to see that day, and he oddly reminded us that alot can happen between now and 10 weeks that neither he nor we could stop if it did. And that was about it - no big "intake" appointment which I had been told could take 1 - 2 hours. Hmmm... I later noticed that there was a note on the ultrasound report that said "the yolk sac is prominent in size." Keep that in mind for later. My next appointment was scheduled for May 14.
In the days following that appointment, knowing that we had heard the heartbeat, that everything was just as it should be, you would think a person could start enjoying all of this. Not this chick. I KNEW something was not right. I don't know how or why, but I knew. Then a few days later, I started spotting again. I called the nurse line, and they said unless it's bright red, you're filling a pad an hour, or you have "double over" cramping, don't worry about it. This went on for a week and a half - and no less than 5 phone calls from me to them with the same instructions. Finally, on Monday, April 30, I called again and said in no uncertain terms I need to come in, I'm spotting, I've had a backache, and I generally don't feel well about this. Finally, I was speaking to a sympathetic nurse who scheduled me to come in at 2:00 that day for an ultrasound.
On April 30, when I should have been 9 weeks and 4 days, my husband met me at the office and told me in the waiting room that he would, once again, be able to say "I told you so" once we saw that everything was fine. I wanted to believe that with every fiber of my being, but I knew. I freaking knew. The tech called us back, started the ultrasound, and said she just wanted to take a look at the cyst and my ovaries before moving onto baby. She said the cyst was shrinking, so this was good. I mentioned that the last tech had said it could cause some bleeding, and she said "cysts don't cause bleeding." Then she got to the uterus. It didn't look right at all. The gestational sac itself looked more like a teardrop than the perfectly round little bubble we had seen before. The baby looked bigger, but still and misshapen - no flicker where there should have been a heartbeat like we saw last time. She then said "I hate to have to tell you this, but the embryo hasn't grown and there is no heartbeat." I was devastated. The embryo hadn't grown at all since 6W5D - the last time we were there! What are the chances that we heard that sweet little 115 beats per minute and then it just stopped??? So we then sit for 45 minutes waiting for the doctor to tell us more of the same. and that we could wait for the miscarriage to happen and the "tissue" to pass naturally, or we could opt for a D&C. I told her I really just wanted to go home and take a nerve pill and think about it. So then, just for posterity, she told me what COULD happen if I miscarried naturally - lots of gore, pain, etc. - it would feel alot like labor. Keep in mind, I'd gone through this before, but in an ER with drugs. So by the time we left, I decided that I would opt for the D&C. More on that later.
Google is a pregnant woman's (or hypochondriac - which all preg women are!) worst nightmare. Google "yolk sac prominent in size" yourself and see what you find!
We got married in June 2008 and having been together for 6 years at that point, we knew we wanted to start a family pretty quickly. Later that year, in November, we had a positive pregnancy test. Had this confirmed at my GP's office, and then on Thanksgiving morning, I woke up knowing that it was time to head to the ER. Between the shock and the drugs of that day, that's about all I have to say about that one. I think I was somewhere around 5 weeks that time.
Fast forward 4 years (almost) and on our vacation in March, we decided to try again. On March 30, I woke up to POAS (Pee On A Stick to all of you who don't spend your time on boards of TTC (Trying to Conceive) and expectant women everywhere) and the result was quickly two, solid, dark lines - positive! I woke my husband up at 6:30 AM to share the news - BTW, don't go this route if you're expecting a big reaction! I called the doctor later and scheduled an appointment to have it all confirmed, even though these home tests are pretty darn accurate. On April 10, we drove to the doctors office, had the test confirmed, 5 tubes of blood drawn, and I had a pelvic exam. I shared with the CNP that I had experienced a miscarriage previously, and she assured me that one time does not put you at any higher risk, but just so I could feel better, she would have an ultrasound scheduled ASAP. The ultrasound was scheduled for the next day - I was so excited!
We go to another of the 6 or 7 offices this practice has the next day for the "photo shoot" extremely excited - I believed I had already made it past the point of the last miscarriage, so I was feeling pretty good about things. The tech spent alot of time looking at my ovaries and said that there was "something of concern going on near my right ovary" and she needed to have the practitioner on duty take a look. But before she did, she did also show me a gestational sac with a perfect little diamond ring right in the middle - the yolk sac and the cells of my developing baby! However, the CNP then comes in, introduces herself and tells us that they are concerned that I'm having an ectopic pregnancy and I will have to have another ultrasound next week. Wait - didn't we just see a yolk sac diamond ring looking thing right where it was supposed to be?? My next appointment was scheduled for May 9, so they got me scheduled for the following week for more blood tests and another ultrasound and cancelled that one. The next day, I had some spotting, which will always freak a pregnant woman out, but I just chalked it up to the pelvic exam the day before - they can be a little intrusive!
On April 17, we went for our first big "intake" appointment and ultrasound. We saw the most beautiful images of our little lizard that day (with the fetal pole, that's what they look like!) and his/her little heartbeat. We were also lucky enough to hear the heartbeat - 115 beats per minute. It was just about the most beautiful sound I'd ever heard. So all the spotting, etc I had - a long gone worry and my husband got to say "I told you so!" The ultrasound tech said the area of concern on my right side appeared to be a hemorrhagic corpus letum cyst, and that it could cause some bleeding, so try not to worry, but call if I did have any bleeding. She said this cyst would actually produce the hormones needed to sustain the pregnancy until the placenta took over. The baby was measuring 6 weeks, 5 days - right where it should be. She gave us 2 photos which we promptly emailed to the family we had shared the news with. We then saw the doctor who asked if we had seen what we wanted to see that day, and he oddly reminded us that alot can happen between now and 10 weeks that neither he nor we could stop if it did. And that was about it - no big "intake" appointment which I had been told could take 1 - 2 hours. Hmmm... I later noticed that there was a note on the ultrasound report that said "the yolk sac is prominent in size." Keep that in mind for later. My next appointment was scheduled for May 14.
In the days following that appointment, knowing that we had heard the heartbeat, that everything was just as it should be, you would think a person could start enjoying all of this. Not this chick. I KNEW something was not right. I don't know how or why, but I knew. Then a few days later, I started spotting again. I called the nurse line, and they said unless it's bright red, you're filling a pad an hour, or you have "double over" cramping, don't worry about it. This went on for a week and a half - and no less than 5 phone calls from me to them with the same instructions. Finally, on Monday, April 30, I called again and said in no uncertain terms I need to come in, I'm spotting, I've had a backache, and I generally don't feel well about this. Finally, I was speaking to a sympathetic nurse who scheduled me to come in at 2:00 that day for an ultrasound.
On April 30, when I should have been 9 weeks and 4 days, my husband met me at the office and told me in the waiting room that he would, once again, be able to say "I told you so" once we saw that everything was fine. I wanted to believe that with every fiber of my being, but I knew. I freaking knew. The tech called us back, started the ultrasound, and said she just wanted to take a look at the cyst and my ovaries before moving onto baby. She said the cyst was shrinking, so this was good. I mentioned that the last tech had said it could cause some bleeding, and she said "cysts don't cause bleeding." Then she got to the uterus. It didn't look right at all. The gestational sac itself looked more like a teardrop than the perfectly round little bubble we had seen before. The baby looked bigger, but still and misshapen - no flicker where there should have been a heartbeat like we saw last time. She then said "I hate to have to tell you this, but the embryo hasn't grown and there is no heartbeat." I was devastated. The embryo hadn't grown at all since 6W5D - the last time we were there! What are the chances that we heard that sweet little 115 beats per minute and then it just stopped??? So we then sit for 45 minutes waiting for the doctor to tell us more of the same. and that we could wait for the miscarriage to happen and the "tissue" to pass naturally, or we could opt for a D&C. I told her I really just wanted to go home and take a nerve pill and think about it. So then, just for posterity, she told me what COULD happen if I miscarried naturally - lots of gore, pain, etc. - it would feel alot like labor. Keep in mind, I'd gone through this before, but in an ER with drugs. So by the time we left, I decided that I would opt for the D&C. More on that later.
Google is a pregnant woman's (or hypochondriac - which all preg women are!) worst nightmare. Google "yolk sac prominent in size" yourself and see what you find!
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