Clearly I'm doing much better if it's been nearly 3 weeks since saying anything. I've had a few unfortunately run-ins at work...people who didn't know I was pregnant, or people who were nosy about where I was for a week. I would say everybody has been very supportive.
So now I'm thinking about what I'm going to do the next time around. If there's a next time. When there's a next time. First of all, Mr. B and I have decided not to even try until February because of his work schedule. Part of me wants to just start right away, but I think if I wait at least one extra month I'll feel better about it.
And what about all of the things I did "wrong" during this last pregnancy? I know there are no strict RULES, because people do terrible things all the time while they're pregnant and still have perfect babies. But I keep thinking about all the times I "cheated" and why I won't do it again.
1. Don't drink so much Diet Coke!!! I kept drinking at least 2 per day the whole time I was pregnant. I need to only drink one. It's not healthy for me anyway.
2. No deli meat! I know this one is stupid. My doctor told me no deli meat. I think I ate deli meat 5 days a week this pregnancy. No matter how much I want Jimmie John's, I'm not going to eat it next time.
3. Exercise. Even just a little bit. I did at the very beginning, but then I just got so tired. I don't care if it's just a little bit of floor exercise before I go to bed, I'm going to do it.
4. Don't hate being pregnant. Not going to lie, I don't like being pregnant. But I didn't get pregnant to be pregnant. I got pregnant to have a baby. But I'll try to enjoy it a little more next time around.
5. Don't stress out. I know I'll be a nervous wreck the whole time next time. I don't want to be. There's nothing I can do about it if something goes wrong in the first 20-30 weeks anyway, so I might as well just enjoy it while I can.
6. Don't go out and buy a bunch of maternity clothes right away. I bought a bunch of shirts this time, because they were on sale. And I really was getting to the point where I needed them. Now I'm stuck with a bunch of winter maternity clothes when, hopefully, I'll be pregnant in the summer. Although I guess it will stretch into late fall too, if all goes as planned.
Wednesday, December 23, 2009
Friday, December 4, 2009
First day back
Today is my first day back after the miscarriage. I was going to wait, but I won't be in the office next week so there are a few things to take care of. I have to leave in 30 minutes, and I really really don't want to go.
Yesterday was my first day alone. I did surprisingly well. I did overdo it a little bit with the housework, but I survived. Seeing all of the "strangers" at work is going to be much harder though. I know the people who I'm close to will respect my situation. I can almost pick out the few people who will not. They will come up to me, try to hug me, try to talk about it... I just don't need that from generic coworkers.
I'm sure it will be fine. As long as I can get in the door and get started on work, I'll make it. It's just going inside that's going to be difficult.
Yesterday was my first day alone. I did surprisingly well. I did overdo it a little bit with the housework, but I survived. Seeing all of the "strangers" at work is going to be much harder though. I know the people who I'm close to will respect my situation. I can almost pick out the few people who will not. They will come up to me, try to hug me, try to talk about it... I just don't need that from generic coworkers.
I'm sure it will be fine. As long as I can get in the door and get started on work, I'll make it. It's just going inside that's going to be difficult.
Wednesday, December 2, 2009
First encounter
Things are getting better. I haven't cried in a couple of days. I've been trying to keep myself busy even though I'm not going into work. I've gotten a few sympathy cards. They actually cheered me up. It's nice to know that someone is thinking about me.
Today I was out shopping with my mom and Little B. My mom saw one of her friends in the store. As soon as she said hi, I knew it was coming. She congratulated me on expecting again. I handled it surprisingly well. My mother, on the other hand, cried. Such an awkward situation. I feel bad, because this woman had no idea what had happened. But I'm sure she was so embarrassed.
I feel like I'll be able to go into work on Friday. At least for a little bit. Hopefully that goes well.
My follow up appointment isn't until the first week of January. Hope I'm 100% and can start TTC again. I think even knowing this could all possibly happen again, I'll be ready!
Today I was out shopping with my mom and Little B. My mom saw one of her friends in the store. As soon as she said hi, I knew it was coming. She congratulated me on expecting again. I handled it surprisingly well. My mother, on the other hand, cried. Such an awkward situation. I feel bad, because this woman had no idea what had happened. But I'm sure she was so embarrassed.
I feel like I'll be able to go into work on Friday. At least for a little bit. Hopefully that goes well.
My follow up appointment isn't until the first week of January. Hope I'm 100% and can start TTC again. I think even knowing this could all possibly happen again, I'll be ready!
Sunday, November 29, 2009
Recovery
Today is Sunday. The ER/D&C debacle was on Wednesday. It's been a rough few days. Luckily my parents have been able to help out. I've been able to talk to a few of my friends on the phone. We've been to two Thanksgivings, so we got to see lots of family. Typing out everything that happened brought tears to my eyes, but it helped to get it out. So I don't have to constantly think about it anymore.
Part of me wants to just tell everybody everything. Will talking about it that much make me feel better? Doubt it. I can burden a couple of my friends, but I think it just makes most people uncomfortable.
Today we put up the Christmas tree. I cried when I got out my "expecting" ornament from 2007. Half happy because I already have Little B. Half sad because we lost Baby B number 2.
I'm still crying a lot. Reading things online? Crying. Seeing things on TV? Crying. Thinking about how I won't have a newborn baby next summer as I thought? Crying.
I can't help but think about trying for another one already. I have to wait at least one cycle. But do I even want to do this? Of course I want another baby. That was the plan all along. But what if this happens again? Can I go through it a second time? Or more? Should I just be thankful that I already have a little one and get on with the rest of my life? I guess this is what recovery is all about. To think about all this. My first follow-up appointment will be right before Christmas. I'm praying for good news (or at least no bad news) so I can enjoy the holiday and look forward to possibly trying for number 2. Again.
Part of me wants to just tell everybody everything. Will talking about it that much make me feel better? Doubt it. I can burden a couple of my friends, but I think it just makes most people uncomfortable.
Today we put up the Christmas tree. I cried when I got out my "expecting" ornament from 2007. Half happy because I already have Little B. Half sad because we lost Baby B number 2.
I'm still crying a lot. Reading things online? Crying. Seeing things on TV? Crying. Thinking about how I won't have a newborn baby next summer as I thought? Crying.
I can't help but think about trying for another one already. I have to wait at least one cycle. But do I even want to do this? Of course I want another baby. That was the plan all along. But what if this happens again? Can I go through it a second time? Or more? Should I just be thankful that I already have a little one and get on with the rest of my life? I guess this is what recovery is all about. To think about all this. My first follow-up appointment will be right before Christmas. I'm praying for good news (or at least no bad news) so I can enjoy the holiday and look forward to possibly trying for number 2. Again.
From bad to worse (graphic)
We went to bed not long after 9. I was extraordinarily uncomfortable. I even went to sleep (or tried) laying on a heating pad. I was having strong cramps every 2-3 minutes. I would say it was on the same level as the labor I experienced with Little B. The heating pad did very little. I needed heat on my back and on my stomach, and that only offered a little bit of relief. Mr. B rolled over a couple of times, and I kept saying I couldn't sleep at all. At 11:30, in the middle of one of the cramps, I felt a pop and a gush. I told Mr. B to wake up to help me. I knew there would be a large amount of blood. My plan was to take a shower and see how I felt afterward.
I felt much much better. I brought a pillow downstairs and even started to compose an email to my friend about the whole experience. Midway through the email, the pain started to return. This time it was much much worse. I started feeling gushes of blood. The next few hours is a blur.
I would run to the bathroom to sit on the toilet. Blood was all over the place. Some in the toilet, some on my clothes, some on the floor. It felt like I had to go to the bathroom. But all that was coming out was clots, tissue and blood. I was sobbing. I thought maybe I could be tough and suffer through it. I knew that if it all came out, I wouldn't have to have the surgery. Finally, I called the on-call doctor from the practice. was trying to talk to him through the pain. I explained the situation to him. I asked if I should stay home and try to wait it out or go to the ER. He told me if I could, to wait it out. But if there was too much blood, I should come in to the ER. I asked what too much blood was, thinking I was bleeding quite a bit. "Too much" to him was going through a pad an hour. I told him I was bleeding so much that I couldn't even stand up. He never insisted that I come in, and even now I don't know why.
I thought maybe I could wait it out a little bit more, so I went up to take another hot shower. I was bleeding so much that I was practically just standing in a pool of blood. I tried yelling for Mr. B, but he was sound asleep. I quickly gathered some clothes and woke him up. I told him we had to go. I called Mom and Dad and asked them to meet us there. Mr. B woke up Little B to get her ready. I sat in the bathroom until he was ready to leave. I don't even remember the car ride. I talked to my parents one last time and asked them to have a wheelchair ready for me when I got there, because I knew I couldn't walk. I was in too much pain and I would start bleeding everywhere.
When we pulled up to the ER, I slid into the wheelchair. I waited for what seemed like an eternity. First for the guard to get off of the phone before he would let us go through the metal detector. Second for any nurse to acknowledge our presence. I sat there sobbing wishing somebody would come help me. We finally got back there and a triage nurse had to wait for her computer to boot up. She asked which one of us was her patient. Surely, it couldn't be the one sitting crying in the wheelchair. She took my blood pressure and asked if it was normally low. I said everybody always tells me it's good, but that's all I know. She gave me a lecture about always knowing your numbers. I don't think that was an appropriate time. Also through the course of her questioning, she asked if I was pregnant. Considering I had already told her why I was there, this didn't exactly thrill me. I answered, "Well, not anymore." She didn't even flinch.
I finally got back to a room. All I wanted was pain medication. They had me undress and get into the hospital gown. They put pads all over the bed for my bleeding. As I got undressed, I bled all over the floor. I threw some of my clothes away because it wasn't even worth washing them. I got situated in bed. They drew several vials of blood and started giving me fluid. I was hooked up to monitors so they could keep an eye on my blood pressure. Then they took me back to do an ultrasound.
I think the ultrasound was the worst part of the whole thing. Just 12 hours before, I had an ultrasound at my doctor's office. While there was no heartbeat, and the baby had stopped growing, there was a baby. When I looked at the ultrasound machine in the hospital, there was nothing. It was so painful. Physically and emotionally. Finally I got back to the room to be with Mr. B. Then they gave me the wonderful pain medication. I let out a sigh of relief as it helped with my pain. A physicians assistant came in to work on me. She said I passed most of the baby on my own, but I kept bleeding because there was still some tissue remaining. Until they were able to remove that tissue, I would keep bleeding. A resident came in to work on me. It felt awful. It sounded like someone mining. And felt like someone was using a hammer and chisel on my insides. She said my body did a good job, and I would most likely not have to have the D&C as scheduled. I was so excited about this.
The excitement was short-lived. My nurse came in and told me she wasn't comfortable discharging me (as I had already received my discharge papers) until I stopped bleeding. Another doctor came in to take a look at me. She repeated the procedure that the PA and resident did. Except she was WAY less gentle. It hurt a lot. She proceeded to do an ultrasound. This also did not feel good. And she didn't have very good news for me. While I was able to pass most of the tissue, there was still a small amount remaining. After all of those hours of pain, and after all of the bleeding, I was going to have to have the D&C anyway. They wanted me to wait until my scheduled time of 3:30, but they were concerned by the amount of blood I had lost.
The nurses continued to watch me while I waited. My heart rate was getting very high - 12o to 130. And my blood pressure was dropping. A second blood test showed that my red blood cell count was lower than desired. They decided they were going to move the surgery up to 10:30 just to make sure there wasn't something else wrong. Before I went in for surgery, I asked to go to the bathroom. My nurse brought a portable toilet in for me to use. After I finished, she got some hot soapy water and wash cloths out for me to wash up. Since the bleeding had slowed considerably, this was much appreciated. I got back into bed and waited to go up to surgery.
Shortly after we arrived, I finally got to see my doctor. I was so happy I almost cried. He was very unhappy with the course of events since I had arrived. Nobody checked their work on an ultrasound before my discharge papers were completed, nobody had given him the full story. I wasn't happy with the other doctor at his practice, but he was too upset with the doctors at the hospital. Everybody asked me all kinds of questions (again). Then I had to leave Mr. B to go down to surgery. I tried hard not to cry, but I did have a few tears on my way down there. When I got there, they gave me something in my IV that basically put me to sleep. I remember moving onto the operating table, but that's it. I vaguely remember them putting mesh underwear on me (and I remember being excited about this). And then next thing I knew I was waking up in recovery. While they waited to take my blood pressure twice, I was able to finally have some graham crackers and Sprite. I missed Mr. B so much at this point, I started crying. I have no idea how long I was sitting there, but soon enough they were able to take me down to see him again. He said he waited for me for about an hour, but the surgery itself only took 3 minutes. This was the only sleep I got in 42 hours. And it felt like the best sleep of my life. Now the recovery was going to begin.
I felt much much better. I brought a pillow downstairs and even started to compose an email to my friend about the whole experience. Midway through the email, the pain started to return. This time it was much much worse. I started feeling gushes of blood. The next few hours is a blur.
I would run to the bathroom to sit on the toilet. Blood was all over the place. Some in the toilet, some on my clothes, some on the floor. It felt like I had to go to the bathroom. But all that was coming out was clots, tissue and blood. I was sobbing. I thought maybe I could be tough and suffer through it. I knew that if it all came out, I wouldn't have to have the surgery. Finally, I called the on-call doctor from the practice. was trying to talk to him through the pain. I explained the situation to him. I asked if I should stay home and try to wait it out or go to the ER. He told me if I could, to wait it out. But if there was too much blood, I should come in to the ER. I asked what too much blood was, thinking I was bleeding quite a bit. "Too much" to him was going through a pad an hour. I told him I was bleeding so much that I couldn't even stand up. He never insisted that I come in, and even now I don't know why.
I thought maybe I could wait it out a little bit more, so I went up to take another hot shower. I was bleeding so much that I was practically just standing in a pool of blood. I tried yelling for Mr. B, but he was sound asleep. I quickly gathered some clothes and woke him up. I told him we had to go. I called Mom and Dad and asked them to meet us there. Mr. B woke up Little B to get her ready. I sat in the bathroom until he was ready to leave. I don't even remember the car ride. I talked to my parents one last time and asked them to have a wheelchair ready for me when I got there, because I knew I couldn't walk. I was in too much pain and I would start bleeding everywhere.
When we pulled up to the ER, I slid into the wheelchair. I waited for what seemed like an eternity. First for the guard to get off of the phone before he would let us go through the metal detector. Second for any nurse to acknowledge our presence. I sat there sobbing wishing somebody would come help me. We finally got back there and a triage nurse had to wait for her computer to boot up. She asked which one of us was her patient. Surely, it couldn't be the one sitting crying in the wheelchair. She took my blood pressure and asked if it was normally low. I said everybody always tells me it's good, but that's all I know. She gave me a lecture about always knowing your numbers. I don't think that was an appropriate time. Also through the course of her questioning, she asked if I was pregnant. Considering I had already told her why I was there, this didn't exactly thrill me. I answered, "Well, not anymore." She didn't even flinch.
I finally got back to a room. All I wanted was pain medication. They had me undress and get into the hospital gown. They put pads all over the bed for my bleeding. As I got undressed, I bled all over the floor. I threw some of my clothes away because it wasn't even worth washing them. I got situated in bed. They drew several vials of blood and started giving me fluid. I was hooked up to monitors so they could keep an eye on my blood pressure. Then they took me back to do an ultrasound.
I think the ultrasound was the worst part of the whole thing. Just 12 hours before, I had an ultrasound at my doctor's office. While there was no heartbeat, and the baby had stopped growing, there was a baby. When I looked at the ultrasound machine in the hospital, there was nothing. It was so painful. Physically and emotionally. Finally I got back to the room to be with Mr. B. Then they gave me the wonderful pain medication. I let out a sigh of relief as it helped with my pain. A physicians assistant came in to work on me. She said I passed most of the baby on my own, but I kept bleeding because there was still some tissue remaining. Until they were able to remove that tissue, I would keep bleeding. A resident came in to work on me. It felt awful. It sounded like someone mining. And felt like someone was using a hammer and chisel on my insides. She said my body did a good job, and I would most likely not have to have the D&C as scheduled. I was so excited about this.
The excitement was short-lived. My nurse came in and told me she wasn't comfortable discharging me (as I had already received my discharge papers) until I stopped bleeding. Another doctor came in to take a look at me. She repeated the procedure that the PA and resident did. Except she was WAY less gentle. It hurt a lot. She proceeded to do an ultrasound. This also did not feel good. And she didn't have very good news for me. While I was able to pass most of the tissue, there was still a small amount remaining. After all of those hours of pain, and after all of the bleeding, I was going to have to have the D&C anyway. They wanted me to wait until my scheduled time of 3:30, but they were concerned by the amount of blood I had lost.
The nurses continued to watch me while I waited. My heart rate was getting very high - 12o to 130. And my blood pressure was dropping. A second blood test showed that my red blood cell count was lower than desired. They decided they were going to move the surgery up to 10:30 just to make sure there wasn't something else wrong. Before I went in for surgery, I asked to go to the bathroom. My nurse brought a portable toilet in for me to use. After I finished, she got some hot soapy water and wash cloths out for me to wash up. Since the bleeding had slowed considerably, this was much appreciated. I got back into bed and waited to go up to surgery.
Shortly after we arrived, I finally got to see my doctor. I was so happy I almost cried. He was very unhappy with the course of events since I had arrived. Nobody checked their work on an ultrasound before my discharge papers were completed, nobody had given him the full story. I wasn't happy with the other doctor at his practice, but he was too upset with the doctors at the hospital. Everybody asked me all kinds of questions (again). Then I had to leave Mr. B to go down to surgery. I tried hard not to cry, but I did have a few tears on my way down there. When I got there, they gave me something in my IV that basically put me to sleep. I remember moving onto the operating table, but that's it. I vaguely remember them putting mesh underwear on me (and I remember being excited about this). And then next thing I knew I was waking up in recovery. While they waited to take my blood pressure twice, I was able to finally have some graham crackers and Sprite. I missed Mr. B so much at this point, I started crying. I have no idea how long I was sitting there, but soon enough they were able to take me down to see him again. He said he waited for me for about an hour, but the surgery itself only took 3 minutes. This was the only sleep I got in 42 hours. And it felt like the best sleep of my life. Now the recovery was going to begin.
Then it started
The Monday morning before Thanksgiving, it started. I had dark spotting. Deep down, I knew what this meant. I called the doctor's office to talk to a nurse. She insisted it was just old blood from sex, stress or something else. She told me not to worry about it, but to call back if it increased in intensity, changed color or I started cramping.
I called Mr. B kind of worried to tell him about it. But the nurse seemed to calm and sure that I tried not to get very upset. I went on with my day. It was hard not to think about it when I saw it every time I went to the bathroom. I did a little bit of Googling on the subject when I got home, but that didn't help with an answer either way. Mr. B continued to reassure me -- not that everything was okay, because he knew that was unrealistic. But to tell me that if something was wrong, there was nothing I could do about it now. And as much as it made me upset to think about it, I knew that was true. And I knew that yes, something was wrong.
Tuesday morning I went to work as usual. I did feel slightly uncomfortable. Lower back cramps, which for me, normally come with a period. Then I felt the blood. It wasn't a lot, but this definitely wasn't spotting. I called the doctor (again). The time I spent on hold felt like eternity. I tried not to cry since I was at work, but I couldn't help it. I finally talked to the nurse. She said they would call me back to schedule an ultrasound. She could tell I was trying not to cry and asked if I was okay. I was barely able to say, "I guess," before I quickly hung up. When I got back to my desk, Chris, my coworker, asked if I was okay. I said no, and through tears, said I thought I was having a miscarriage. What a terrible thing to have to tell somebody. What was he supposed to say? "I'm sorry" just doesn't seem adequate. And of course you want the person to realize that maybe that isn't what's happening. But I knew it was.
The nurse called back to schedule my appointment. I quickly called Mr. B to tell him. At first, I thought I could just go by myself. But I thought about it and asked him to come to my appointment with me. I went with Chris while he got lunch. I just couldn't sit at my desk and wait around for my appointment. I kept telling him my emotions at the time were more along the lines of anger and unhappiness -- because I knew all along something was wrong, and I still let myself get excited. I told him I was sorry for crying. He said if it was him, he'd be crying way more. I knew I would be eventually, I just couldn't yet.
While he was buying his lunch, I called my mom. I told her I was bleeding and I had to go to the doctor. I asked her to pick up Little B after school. I tried to stress that I knew it wasn't good. I didn't want to get anybody's hopes up.
After sitting in the lunch room at work, trying to keep my mind off of things, it was time for the appointment. I talked to Mr. B the whole way to the doctor. Basically making plans for what we were going to do now (not traveling, how to un-tell people, etc). He tried to tell me just to wait and see what happened, but I knew what the news was going to be. The wait was long, but I almost didn't mind. It was almost like as long as I didn't know for sure, I could just keep going on like everything was normal. But I knew this wasn't the case.
As soon as the ultrasound started, I looked on the screen and saw no heartbeat. I immediately had to turn away. I let go of just a few tears. It was silent in the room until the U/S tech left. My first words were "that's not good." I didn't even know what to say to Mr. B. I just cried. When the doctor came in, I just got worse. I reminded him that I told him something was wrong at my first ultrasound. He asked if I still felt pregnant. I told him not really, but I didn't have strong symptoms to begin with, and morning sickness would have been tapering off entering 2nd trimester anyway. He showed the baby to me. Measuring only 10w5d.
I've gone through in my head over and over what happened around that time. I realize that it was probably a chromosonal abnormality, or something else that I had no control over. 10 weeks 5 days was just 3 days after we had to put Mom & Dad's dog down. Was it stress from that? Was there something stressful at work going on? Was it because I maybe ate deli meat even though I wasn't supposed to? Did it have anything to do with the LEEP I had 4 years ago? All of these thoughts and more rushed through my head. Doctor reiterated to me everything I already knew: it was nothing I did, you can't take a good pregnancy and make it bad, I knew there was something wrong so obviously there was. But it didn't make it any easier.
He left to try to go make arrangements for my D&C. When I got up to get dressed, I noticed I was bleeding a little bit more. We went in to talk to him before we left. He explained the risks to me, none of which were much of a concern to me. And then I left. Mr. B and I drove home separately. I called Mom and cried my eyes out. I called my sister who was so upset she couldn't even talk. I called and emailed my friends and coworkers. I could only bring myself to even mention what happened couple people. I asked them to spread the word at work so I wouldn't have to talk about it when I got back. I barely remember the drive home. I cried so much. Uncontrollably. But it had to be done.
I got home and just sat in the bathroom. I didn't know what to do. I heard Mr. B and Little B come in. She had worn her Big Sister shirt that day. He took her right in and changed her shirt so I wouldn't have to see it. then he brought her in to give me a hug and a kiss. I am so thankful that they could both be there at that difficult time. I pretty much sat and cried for awhile. I talked to my mom a little bit more. The next day we were all supposed to leave to visit family for Thanksgiving. Obviously we weren't going. Mom wanted to know if they should stay home. I wanted them to stay home, but I knew the extended family would be disappointed if they didn't get to see them. I told Mom it was up to them. Ultimately, they decided to stay to help. I just didn't know how I would be, so I thought it would be good to have them there to help.
The three of us went to bdubs for dinner. I decided having a mixed drink was going to be a little too much, but I did load up on Diet Coke. It was good to go out and take my mind off of things for a litttle while. After dinner, we went to the grocery store to stock up on essentials: tylenol, pads, bread, milk, bananas. Halfway through, I stared to feel awful. I actually had to sit down while Mr. B finished shopping. I said, "It feels like my insides are going to fall out." We went home and just sat around the rest of the night. I wasn't excited about the prospect of not being able to eat after midnight for my surgery the following day, scheduled for 3:30. But I wasn't even a little bit hungry. I convinced myself to eat a Snickers ice cream bar before we went to sleep.
I called Mr. B kind of worried to tell him about it. But the nurse seemed to calm and sure that I tried not to get very upset. I went on with my day. It was hard not to think about it when I saw it every time I went to the bathroom. I did a little bit of Googling on the subject when I got home, but that didn't help with an answer either way. Mr. B continued to reassure me -- not that everything was okay, because he knew that was unrealistic. But to tell me that if something was wrong, there was nothing I could do about it now. And as much as it made me upset to think about it, I knew that was true. And I knew that yes, something was wrong.
Tuesday morning I went to work as usual. I did feel slightly uncomfortable. Lower back cramps, which for me, normally come with a period. Then I felt the blood. It wasn't a lot, but this definitely wasn't spotting. I called the doctor (again). The time I spent on hold felt like eternity. I tried not to cry since I was at work, but I couldn't help it. I finally talked to the nurse. She said they would call me back to schedule an ultrasound. She could tell I was trying not to cry and asked if I was okay. I was barely able to say, "I guess," before I quickly hung up. When I got back to my desk, Chris, my coworker, asked if I was okay. I said no, and through tears, said I thought I was having a miscarriage. What a terrible thing to have to tell somebody. What was he supposed to say? "I'm sorry" just doesn't seem adequate. And of course you want the person to realize that maybe that isn't what's happening. But I knew it was.
The nurse called back to schedule my appointment. I quickly called Mr. B to tell him. At first, I thought I could just go by myself. But I thought about it and asked him to come to my appointment with me. I went with Chris while he got lunch. I just couldn't sit at my desk and wait around for my appointment. I kept telling him my emotions at the time were more along the lines of anger and unhappiness -- because I knew all along something was wrong, and I still let myself get excited. I told him I was sorry for crying. He said if it was him, he'd be crying way more. I knew I would be eventually, I just couldn't yet.
While he was buying his lunch, I called my mom. I told her I was bleeding and I had to go to the doctor. I asked her to pick up Little B after school. I tried to stress that I knew it wasn't good. I didn't want to get anybody's hopes up.
After sitting in the lunch room at work, trying to keep my mind off of things, it was time for the appointment. I talked to Mr. B the whole way to the doctor. Basically making plans for what we were going to do now (not traveling, how to un-tell people, etc). He tried to tell me just to wait and see what happened, but I knew what the news was going to be. The wait was long, but I almost didn't mind. It was almost like as long as I didn't know for sure, I could just keep going on like everything was normal. But I knew this wasn't the case.
As soon as the ultrasound started, I looked on the screen and saw no heartbeat. I immediately had to turn away. I let go of just a few tears. It was silent in the room until the U/S tech left. My first words were "that's not good." I didn't even know what to say to Mr. B. I just cried. When the doctor came in, I just got worse. I reminded him that I told him something was wrong at my first ultrasound. He asked if I still felt pregnant. I told him not really, but I didn't have strong symptoms to begin with, and morning sickness would have been tapering off entering 2nd trimester anyway. He showed the baby to me. Measuring only 10w5d.
I've gone through in my head over and over what happened around that time. I realize that it was probably a chromosonal abnormality, or something else that I had no control over. 10 weeks 5 days was just 3 days after we had to put Mom & Dad's dog down. Was it stress from that? Was there something stressful at work going on? Was it because I maybe ate deli meat even though I wasn't supposed to? Did it have anything to do with the LEEP I had 4 years ago? All of these thoughts and more rushed through my head. Doctor reiterated to me everything I already knew: it was nothing I did, you can't take a good pregnancy and make it bad, I knew there was something wrong so obviously there was. But it didn't make it any easier.
He left to try to go make arrangements for my D&C. When I got up to get dressed, I noticed I was bleeding a little bit more. We went in to talk to him before we left. He explained the risks to me, none of which were much of a concern to me. And then I left. Mr. B and I drove home separately. I called Mom and cried my eyes out. I called my sister who was so upset she couldn't even talk. I called and emailed my friends and coworkers. I could only bring myself to even mention what happened couple people. I asked them to spread the word at work so I wouldn't have to talk about it when I got back. I barely remember the drive home. I cried so much. Uncontrollably. But it had to be done.
I got home and just sat in the bathroom. I didn't know what to do. I heard Mr. B and Little B come in. She had worn her Big Sister shirt that day. He took her right in and changed her shirt so I wouldn't have to see it. then he brought her in to give me a hug and a kiss. I am so thankful that they could both be there at that difficult time. I pretty much sat and cried for awhile. I talked to my mom a little bit more. The next day we were all supposed to leave to visit family for Thanksgiving. Obviously we weren't going. Mom wanted to know if they should stay home. I wanted them to stay home, but I knew the extended family would be disappointed if they didn't get to see them. I told Mom it was up to them. Ultimately, they decided to stay to help. I just didn't know how I would be, so I thought it would be good to have them there to help.
The three of us went to bdubs for dinner. I decided having a mixed drink was going to be a little too much, but I did load up on Diet Coke. It was good to go out and take my mind off of things for a litttle while. After dinner, we went to the grocery store to stock up on essentials: tylenol, pads, bread, milk, bananas. Halfway through, I stared to feel awful. I actually had to sit down while Mr. B finished shopping. I said, "It feels like my insides are going to fall out." We went home and just sat around the rest of the night. I wasn't excited about the prospect of not being able to eat after midnight for my surgery the following day, scheduled for 3:30. But I wasn't even a little bit hungry. I convinced myself to eat a Snickers ice cream bar before we went to sleep.
The back story
I found out I was pregnant in September. A few days after OSU lost to USC. I knew I was. I don't know how, but I did. I took the test anyway. Mr. B was shocked. He couldn't believe it again happened so quickly. But he was excited, and so was I. I had to tell a few people very early on. This wasn't ideal, but my best friends were going to wonder why I wasn't drinking at the wedding. Plus, I could barely stay awake past 8 pm and my morning (all-day) sickness was pretty rough at times.
At 6 weeks or so, we went to Disney World with my parents and Little B. I dressed Little B in a "Big Sister" tshirt to tell my parents. Everybody was excited, and of course I cried.
I was so excited to be mom for a second time. I was scheduled for an ultrasound just before 9 weeks. But a few days before that, I got sick. I don't know if it was food poisoning, or something else. I was in serious pain for about 2 hours. But as soon as that was over, I started to get worried, and the worrying never stopped.
At my appointment, I told both the nurse and doctor that I was nervous and worried. They acted like I was being irrational. Probably because I was. Baby B was measuring just right on the ultrasound. Everything looked perfect. I scheduled my next appointment for the first week of December, took the pictures home, and began the fun process of announcing the news. It was so exciting to tell people that there was another baby on the way. Some people were more excited for us than others, but that didn't matter to me.
But something was still off. We made no preparations. I didn't buy anything for Baby B. I hardly bought any maternity clothes even though I was clearly outgrowing my regular wardrobe. I designed Christmas cards from us announcing Baby B, but I never bought them. I kept thinking I was supposed to have a bigger belly, but I know everybody grows at a different rate. The morning sickness stopped. My appetite didn't seem to be as enormous as it had been. I stopped reading the pregnancy message boards I had been checking earlier. I stopped suggesting names to Mr. B. We didn't look at new furniture or room decorations for the second nursery. It's like I forgot I was pregnant. Turns out, there was good reason for that.
At 6 weeks or so, we went to Disney World with my parents and Little B. I dressed Little B in a "Big Sister" tshirt to tell my parents. Everybody was excited, and of course I cried.
I was so excited to be mom for a second time. I was scheduled for an ultrasound just before 9 weeks. But a few days before that, I got sick. I don't know if it was food poisoning, or something else. I was in serious pain for about 2 hours. But as soon as that was over, I started to get worried, and the worrying never stopped.
At my appointment, I told both the nurse and doctor that I was nervous and worried. They acted like I was being irrational. Probably because I was. Baby B was measuring just right on the ultrasound. Everything looked perfect. I scheduled my next appointment for the first week of December, took the pictures home, and began the fun process of announcing the news. It was so exciting to tell people that there was another baby on the way. Some people were more excited for us than others, but that didn't matter to me.
But something was still off. We made no preparations. I didn't buy anything for Baby B. I hardly bought any maternity clothes even though I was clearly outgrowing my regular wardrobe. I designed Christmas cards from us announcing Baby B, but I never bought them. I kept thinking I was supposed to have a bigger belly, but I know everybody grows at a different rate. The morning sickness stopped. My appetite didn't seem to be as enormous as it had been. I stopped reading the pregnancy message boards I had been checking earlier. I stopped suggesting names to Mr. B. We didn't look at new furniture or room decorations for the second nursery. It's like I forgot I was pregnant. Turns out, there was good reason for that.
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