I spent my entire pregnancy being bounced around between care providers because obviously, no one gives a crap about anyone in this city. I went to a gyn when I was only 5 weeks for a pap because it was scheduled before I found out. That gyn wouldn't let me see their ob because they're "too booked". They did let me go to the hospital for an ultrasound, which I got at 7 weeks and heard a healthy heartrate of 156 BPMS.
I wanted to deliver at a birth center anyway so I found one but it was 40 minutes away. They wanted me to jump through hoops to get in (go to an orientation that they ONLY held a handful of times a month). I missed the *only* one we had time to get to, which was almost 6 weeks after my initial phone call, I scheduled because apparently I got the time wrong...the same day it was scheduled is the day that it turned out my baby passed away. Since there was so much stress over missing it that day, DJames worries that's what did it. I don't think so but we're still in WHY THE F DID THAT HAPPEN mode.
I ended up giving up on that place and stumbled upon a closer birth center, made my appointment for this past Thursday. They called me and cancelled it, saying that their midwife had to deliver someone and the other one couldn't cover her. I talked to the receptionist and told her about my worry about missed miscarriage. It happened too many times in the May DDC, so I was worried about it BIG TIME. The receptionist tried to make me feel better and said no, no if it was going to happen, it would have by now.
Fast-forward to later that night, red spotting. I talked to my mom about whether or not she could watch the kids if I get put on bedrest, she said of course but that we were getting ahead of ourselves. We both felt like everything would be okay. Well, I get my ultrasound done and the woman says "I know I said that I wouldn't tell you..." and my heart sank. I didn't cry, I just talked about it with her. She looked forever, even tried a transvag. She really wanted to be wrong. Her boss came in, he checked, he apologized and confirmed.
Getting back to the room was the worst thing possible. I come in and since I'm not crying, I guess James assumes the best and he smiles and I'm wheeled in. He looks at me and I shake my head...and tears immediately began to fall as he said "What?? What??" Somehow, THAT is the worst image of them all. The amount of pain on my husband's face will forever remain etched upon my mind. I still did not cry. It wasn't until we left the hospital that I began crying hysterically and both of us pretty much didn't stop until two days later. Now we cry on and off.
Anyway the purpose of this post is to tell you that our baby is still inside of me. I was 13 weeks 2 days at the time of the ultrasound but my baby had passed at 11 weeks 4 days. A midwife told me that a D&E (apparently a D&C is a scrape and a D&E is a suction) is the best option for me because of many other factors.
I spent all day yesterday trying to schedule a D&E with ANYONE. Since I have no prenatal care with anyone, every one of them will need to see me first and most of them said that with the holidays approaching, they don't think that it will be possible to do this week. My mom's doctor gave her a number of someone that she thought might do an emergency D&E (otherwise we were headed to the hospital to shell out $75+ultrasound just to see if they'd do it for us). I have an appointment with them at 11:20 EST but the nurses weren't sure if the doctor would be able to do my D&E right away or schedule me for one.
Can everyone please pray for me that this doctor will do me D&E today? Some of you probably know that it hurts so badly to have to carry this around with you. It's impossible to have closure, carrying around your deceased baby.
And if anyone wants to read my blog, lately all it is is posts about this stuff and how I feel which is surreal considering I was following a May DDC friend's blog reading all of her exact same posts last month and crying so hard for her.
Through The Looking Glass: A Piece Of Our Hearts in Heaven
Through The Looking Glass: My Grief Is With Me