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It all started about 2 weeks ago - when I was 10.5 weeks pregnant. I started with some brown spotting and, being my first pregnancy, called my doctor very worried. He did an u/s the next day, and we saw a dancin' & wavin' baby. MD said everything looked great and that some people were just "bleeders" and I was one of the "lucky ones". So, I left feeling great about it all. I had my first u/s 4 weeks earlier and just saw a little blob, but this time it had arms and legs and was moving - I was soooo excited.
For the next two weeks, I had brown spotting daily - it didn't matter if I was resting or on my feet the entire day. It was never real heavy, and I never had any out-of-the-ordinary craming. The MD had said this was fine, just to call him if it got really heavy or if it was red. Labor day weekend came, and we drove 4 hours down to the beach to celebrate with friends. We had a great weekend, and I spent the entire weekend lounging around or sitting on the beach with my 100,000+ baby name booking making a long list (my favorite name was Rylan Grace... but I knew DH would take convincing - we didn't yet know the sex, but I always felt deep down it was a girl from the very beginning). I had to work on Labor day but DH didn't have to, so I drove back on Sunday alone and he was coming back the next evening with our friends. I was 12.5 weeks pregnant - just a few short days from my second trimester when I thought I'd be "in the clear".
I got back home, played with the dog, and around 8 o'clock went to the bathroom and there it was, red blood. I immediately called my doctor's answering service. When I first started spotting I had called them, and they called back within 10 minutes. Well, this time an hour passed and no return call (a nurse calls you back, not the doctor). So I called back - the receptionist felt horrible because she knew I was upset, and said she put in another call. Another hour later I called again - once again no call. So after two hours, no return call from the MD's office and talking with my parents on the phone (they live 3 hours away, so I had no one who could get there), I went to the ER by myself.
The ER experience was very strange. People there were very kind and assuring at first. So many people came in to do this job or that job - all asking questions and hearing my story - each time I would start tearing up again as I told it. They all knew I was scared, and were very nice. The PA could not find a heartbeat with the doppler and did a pelvic exam. He then called my OB (by this time it was about midnight). My OB works in an office with just him and one other doctor - the other doctor was on call that night. They are both incredibly kind men who really take as much time as you need to talk to you. Well, he got there, did the u/s and there was my baby... with no heartbeat. No more wavin' and dancin'. He measured it & said it measured to be about 9.5 weeks (I should have been 12.5), and said that probably right after my last u/s 2 weeks before, it had probably died. Since my DH wasn't there, and wouldn't be able to get there by the morning, they scheduled the D&C on Tuesday so he could be there with me. The MD left and all of those kind and assuring people who came in at first - no one came back to talk to me. I didn't see my nurse again, or any of the CNA's or anyone. I was hysterical and no one was there to give any comfort - I didn't care if it was a complete stranger off of the street - I would have given anything for a hug from someone. It was horrible. A nurse I hadn't even seen before came in to do my d/c without a mention of anything and I drove myself home. My husband has no cell phone reception at the beach, so I couldn't get in touch with him... my mom immediately got in the car and made the 3 hour drive to my house - getting there at about 4:30am. My husband finally called me... since he was at the beach, carless, he couldn't get there until around 4pm the next day. Noone could believe it was happening.
The next 24 hours were the worst. I didn't want to tell anyone - but we had told so many people. I didn't want to call work, but I had to. I had planned next weekend to go on a "girls weekend" trip with my family, and I didn't want to - I didn't want to have any fun, like I was punishing myself or something. I didn't want to think about trying again, because I didn't want to go through it all again. The absolute worst part about it, though, was going to the bathroom and everytime finding clots or blood and knowing that my precious life that was once in me was now dead and coming out bit by bit. It was so much to take in emotionally, and I'm sure an experience that you can only understand if you have been through it as well (which I know that most of you have). My DH and I had a long talk about it... I know that he was doing his best, but I remember one of the things he said was, " you know, it wasn't like losing a real person like your Grandma or your Aunt". That was very difficult because to me it was a very real person. A little person that I had spent just about every moment of 12-weeks thinking and dreaming about. He said that he was still in the shock phase - I don't think it had really sunk in for him yet - I know it must be hard for a partner, because I know he was dealing with his own feelings, but also not experiencing physically what I was that really made it real.
So the D&C was scheduled for 7:30 on Tuesday morning (this morning). We got there, did the admission paperwork, went back, got gowned up and in bed - barely holding back tears the whole time. Then the nurse came in with the "I'm sorry, we have to reschedule it - there has been a mistake with the scheduling". I couldn't believe it!! Then the tears started to flow - it was postponed until 11:30. I was just so ready to get it all over with and get home. So, I got dressed and came back 4 hours later. They asked me if I wanted a spinal block or to be put out all together. I told them I just wanted to be completely out - I really didn't want any awareness of it at all. My original OB came in and answered a lot of questions. He is really a wonderful doctor and I am thankful for how understanding, patient and kind he is/was. I told him at that time about how the nurse from their office never called from the answering service and waiting for 2 hours before finally deciding to go to the ER without a call, and he was very upset about this and told me it was not acceptable & something would be done about it. I didn't want to get anyone in trouble, but I just didn't want it to happen to anyone else. He spoke for awhile to DH and me about the emotional aspects of it all - and I really appreciated that and DH said he did too. He told us that it was something that he had seen pull other couples apart, but it was something that should actually bring you closer together. He also talked about how often men deal with it very differently than women (often being more silent about it), and that we just need to be very open with each other and talk about it because it was something that we were both dealing with. Again, I think it was a great thing for the MD to do (something he didn't have to), but it was all something that we both needed to hear and I really appreciated that. I know that DH feels strongly about it all, but shows it very differently than me, and I respect that now.
The procedure itself was over in no time. I had some burning initially and very mild cramping. They gave me a Darvocet for pain and a Motrin for cramping. Once getting home, the cramping became a little worse, but still not too bad. I'm having some bleeding like a period, and the MD said to expect that for as long as 2 weeks afterwards. Thats about it for the procedure.
I know that I have a long way to go, and that it is something that I'll never get over completely. It's not something that I want to get over with completely, to be honest. This was our baby, our little life that we created... and even though he/she didn't make it for us to see it's little face or hold it, it is still something that I loved very much and I do cherish it. I have decided to plant a white crepe myrtle tree to honor the baby. In the past couple of weeks they have bloomed around here, so hopefully each year around this time it will bloom. I think that will help with some closure, almost like a burial of sorts. We may not be at this house much longer, but I still would like to do it... and maybe plant another one at our next house. Who knows. I don't feel any guilt about it all. I know that I didn't do anything to cause this to happen, as I was extremely careful about everything that I did. I know it's just part of nature, and usually it is for the best as often there was something wrong with the baby which is why it probably happened. I do feel a little bit of shame... I know I will have to get over that, and I don't really know why I feel like that. I think it is just because I know that so many other people were soooo excited about this as well, and I almost feel like I have let them down in a way even though everyone has been more that wonderful about it.
DH and I have not talked a lot about where to go from here, but I do know that we were both very excited about the baby, so I know that we will try again. I know that I will have to wait a couple of months before I am able to... and I still feel like I have lost so much time... probably 6 months or so, but I am only 28, and God-willing, hopefully I will be given another chance with a healthy baby. I can't stand the thought of going through it all and it possibly happening again, but I guess that is a risk that you have to take and one that I am willing to take. I am blessed with a wonderful family to help me through it, and a wonderful medical team to help me with me next try too.
I know if you are reading this, you have probably either gone through this, or are about too. I am always willing to talk, answer questions or give support if you are reading this and need anything. This is a wonderful community, from my DDC room that I was in to this board, and I appreciate the support that I have recieved on here. I wish you all love & thank you for reading about my story.