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After some unusual spotting on Wednesday the 27th, I called the doctor's office, who told me to come in ASAP. After the initial exam, it was found I was not actively bleeding. They did an ultrasound to check the baby and found there had been no growth in 2 weeks, as well as no heart beat.
After that, they explained what a missed miscarriage was, and that I could either wait for my body to realize what was going on, or I could opt for a D&C. Not in the frame of mind to make a decision, I told them I'd think about it.
The next day, I decided to schedule the D&C because I didn't think I could handle waiting around for it to happen. Not knowing when or where was making me an emotional mess. I also think opting for the D&C gave me some kind of control when I was stuck in a situation where I couldn't control the outcome. It was going to happen either way...letting me decide when made me feel a little more sane.
The D&C was scheduled for the day after I made my decision (God bless the doctor, she didn't make me wait). I couldn't eat anything past midnight, and I had to be at the hospital by 8:30 am. I got up early, had a sitter come to the house to watch over Aidan, and left for the hospital with my husband. I checked into admissions, and they took me back to a pre-op area where I undressed and put my belongings in a bag. They hooked me up to an IV and gave me an antibiotic to take with the teeniest amount of water. They had me sign some forms and the anesthesiologist came in to talk with me. They then got my husband from the waiting room and gave me the remote to the TV in my little cubicle to try and take my mind off of it. The doctor came in to explain the procedure to myself and my husband. I cried a bit, hearing her talk about it. She handed me tissues, patted my hand and left me with my husband, which I appreciated because no amount of talking was going to make me feel better.
Right before they wheeled me into the OR, they gave me something to relax me. I kissed my husband goodbye and they wheeled me into the OR. They gave me some oxygen, and strapped my arms down. The anesthesiologist talked to me as he administered the anesthesia. I remember asking if it was supposed to hurt my arm, because I felt a burning sensation in my arm and he calmed me down and told me everything was OK to try and relax. Probably within seconds after that, I was out.
According to my husband they wheeled me into recovery 15 minutes later. I didn't wake up until an hour after they told him I was out and everything went great. When I woke up, I asked if everything was over and if I could see my husband. The nurse checked my vitals and went to get him. When she left, it hit me all at once: my baby was gone. I started crying again. After I woke up it took about 20 minutes before they'd let me go. I felt fine...a tad bit woozy, but I thought my head was pretty clear. I had some pretty bad cramps, but they sent me home with a scrip for motrin, percocet, and more antibiotics.
The recovery at home has been fine. The bad cramping lasted only for 2 days. By Sunday motrin was all I needed for the cramps. It's been less than a week and the bleeding has already tapered off to almost nonexistent. It was never heavier than a light period, which I was thankful for.
Overall, the hardest part has been getting past it emotionally. But I do think if I had waited around for it to happen, I would have been way worse. It's just not something I think I would be capable of handling.