In case you missed my first post yesterday, you can find it here.
So where did I leave off? Ah yes, the ultrasound tech was escorting me to a private room. At the end of the hallway she handed me off to a nurse who just happened to be the one I spoke to on the phone when I was calling to see if I needed to come in because of the spotting. She introduced herself and gave me a hug and asked if she could get me anything as she got me settled in an exam room. My OB was out of the office that day so she told me that another one of the OB's would be in shortly to talk with me.
At this point so many things were going through my head. I so badly wanted to call Jeremy to hear his voice and it was bothering me to know he was just sitting at home waiting and worrying. But I didn't know how long the doctor would take and I didn't think I would be able to talk to him without losing it again, so I waited. And waited. And waited. I felt like I was in that room for an eternity. I was trying to keep my mind occupied so that it wouldn't fully absorb the news I had just received. I wasn't ready to start processing it...not in this place. I tried to find something of interest in the room to focus on. The painting on the wall of the two lounge chairs on the beach. Oh how I would love to be there instead of here. The calendar on the wall. March 7, I will never forget March 7. Pregnancy magazines...nope, keeping looking. Birth control advertisements. Birth control...I don't want to go on birth control again. Are we going to want to try soon? Are they going to let us? I don't want to think about this...I shouldn't have to be thinking about this.
At this point I started contemplating leaving. It had been a good 15 to 20 minutes and I couldn't occupy my mind anymore. I was ready to lose it and needed to be far away from this place. I started convincing myself that they couldn't keep me here and that whatever they needed to tell me could be said on the phone. I went back and forth on this when finally the doctor came in. The first words out of her mouth were, "I'm so sorry you've had to wait this long." And I just started crying. I didn't want to talk to her. I didn't want to talk about it at all. She was as sweet as could be though and even though we were strangers she sat in that room and cried right with me. She told me that our baby had died right around 10 weeks, probably just days after the ultrasound where I had seen it and thought everything would be fine. Why couldn't I have found out then? Why was I given such a false sense of hope? She laid out the statistics, that 20% of pregnancies end in miscarriage and having had 3 healthy pregnancies already I would likely go on to have another one if I chose to. Do I want to have another? Can I do this all over again? Was it just "my turn"?
She then began to talk about the next steps. She told me that anything past 8 weeks is very painful to miscarry naturally at home and that there is a risk of complications if it doesn't all take care of itself. She told me that if I was her sister she would tell me to get a D&C. And so I agreed. I can't believe I have to make this decision right now. I never thought I would do this. I never thought this would be my choice to make. So she began to fill out the paperwork so that I could be admitted into the hospital first thing the next morning. And that's when I saw it. She had written out 'D&C for missed abortion @10weeks'. ABORTION. Yes, yes, I know that that is just what they call it. They call it an abortion when you miscarry because your body is aborting the baby. But we all know the weight of that word in our culture and that was all I could see. Abortion, how could they write that? An abortion is a choice. I didn't choose this. I want my baby.
They went over what the next day would entail, signed some paperwork, and I got another hug from a different nurse and finally I was on my way. As I walked out the doors into the waiting room a hugely pregnant woman was staring back at me. Met my eyes and just kept staring as I walked out. Though I had calmed down I am sure I looked all out of sorts. Be glad this isn't you. Be glad you don't know what I know. I made it all the way into the elevator when my phone started ringing. It was the receptionist telling me I need to come back for my Rhogam shot. Are you kidding me? LET ME OUT OF HERE! So back I went, right past the same pregnant woman, into the room I had just been stuck in for what felt like forever. This time they sent yet another nurse in who either had no clue what was going on or didn't really care. Carrying the needle she said in the most chipper of voices, "Hi! How are you doing today?" At this point I just wanted out so I said fine and prepared to receive the shot. She made small talk, told me when I could take the bandage off, and walked out saying, "You have a good rest of the day!" Yeah, I'll do that.
Once again I headed out into the waiting room, past pregnant lady who is really puzzled now, and made it all the way to my car. I couldn't wait another second so I called Jeremy as I was leaving the parking garage. "The baby died," I said as the tears started to flow. His voice...I could hear the heartache. And I knew it was just killing him that he wasn't with me in that moment. I rattled off the details and got off the phone to call my mom who also knew what was going on and had been waiting to hear from me. Our conversation went much the same and she offered to fly up if I needed her. Again, I knew that it was hard for her not to be here with me as I went through this but there was nothing she could do so I told her to stay. Fittingly it was pouring down rain as I made the drive home. And as I drove in the rain, the song I had heard just hours before began to play. And this time I knew that it was for me and that I was going to have to let the words wash over me and carry me home.
--This could take awhile. Hope that you can stick with me as I walk through this experience with you. Really, it's more for me anyway, but I know that there is someone who will read this and be able to relate. I wish that wasn't true. I also hope that as you read you realize that what I am sharing is real...so if something I say in my pain is somehow offensive, I apologize.--
Part 3 of my story: http://chrystal-lewis.blogspot.com/2012/04/its-time-part-3.html