On Friday mid-morning was the first time I noticed it. I went to the bathroom like I usually do 15 times a day and when I wiped there was a small amount of brown blood. I tried to put it out of my mind and go back to work but deep down I knew something was terribly wrong. I told my mom of what I discovered and both her and I both turned to the Internet. Cramping and little bleeding normal. Can be caused by lots of things with no harm to the baby. Denial. I couldn't stop thinking about it. My mom urged me to call the Dr. but I did not want to face what he had to say. I told her I didn't want to have my first ultrasound this way, have this emotional roller coaster without my husband. About an hour later I called the Dr.'s office. I have never met the Dr. In fact I had scheduled my first prenatal appointment for this Monday.
The Dr. called me back about 1:30 and he showed some concern and ordered blood work and an ultrasound. He told me that I was having "threatening miscarriage". Like the mother she is, my mom swooped in and took care of everything. She told my boss what was happening. I didn't have to speak a word. I passed on my work and quickly left the office, fearing the worst, hoping for the best.
First we were off to get my blood drawn. Got there early and the office didn't re-open after lunch until 2:00. We sat and waited and as more people arrived we stood by the door in hopes to be the first in and first helped. I had a 2:45 ultrasound appointment and I wanted to make it on time.
The torture of an ultrasound is that you have to drink 24 oz of water and have a full bladder. I drank water and waited. After getting my blood drawn I had to pee so badly I was not going to make it a full hour before the ultrasound. As I had feared the blood had turned bright red and there was more of it. My fear turned to dread and I started to come to terms with what lay ahead.
We got to the office to get the ultrasound. I was squeezed in so I had to wait until 3:30 before I was seen. I got into the room and put on the hospital gown. First the traditional ultrasound. As I watched the images on the screen on the wall come to life I hoped and strained to see a little bump bump bump of a heart beat. Nothing. I don't really know what I was looking at but I didn't see anything that resembled the dream that I was still clinging to. Then I had a transvaginal ultrasound. Still didn't know what I was looking, still searching for answers.
The tech left the room and said a radiologist was going to look at the pictures. She returned to let me know that Dr. Clayton was on the phone to speak to me. I got on the phone and the hum of the ultrasound room and the crappy phone that I was using made it nearly impossible to hear what he was saying. From what I gathered there didn't appear to be a pregnancy in my uterus. He was waiting for my blood tests results to come back to check my progesterone levels to see if they were in the pregnancy range. If they were high and they didn't see a baby in my uterus I had an ectopic pregnancy. If they were low, I was having a miscarriage.
I got home from everything that had happened, still bleeding, still in shock, and so very sad. Lost, confused, angry. Why was this happening? What had I done wrong? I finally believed that I was getting everything that I wanted in life, a family to call my own. Troy came home and for the first time through the entire experience I wept. I wept uncontrollably for a good 5-10 minutes and he just held me. I wasn't crying because I thought I would never become a mother. I was crying for the child that I had lost. My dreams seemed shattered. My heart broken. And the thought of having to explain to everyone what had happened to me after foolishly sharing the news with so many people so early in my pregnancy pained me even more. The anticipation of the sorrowful looks, the I'm sorrys, I'm here for you.
I think my mom was so confused by my lack of emotion through the whole process. I just wanted facts. Details. Options. The next step. The emotions didn't set in until much later. I even talked with Troy when he got home as if it were about another person, another sad person we knew as if it weren't us experiencing the pain.
On Saturday afternoon while sitting at home alone watching a mediocre movie I missed a call from the Dr. He left a voicemail informing me that my blood test results were in and that my progesterone levels were very low at 176. I was having a miscarriage which was as "positive result". Putting "positive" in my emotional disaster just didn't seem to fit. He was happy to know that I didn't have an ectopic pregnancy stuck somewhere in my fallopian tube or ovary. No risk of death. The positive I suppose. It was official, it was over.
Nothing can prepare you for the emotional and physical pain I have been through. Although I have come to terms with the fact that we have lost our child and that God has a bigger plan than I know or understand, my body didn't work as quickly as my mind. For the last two days I have been bleeding. This morning I think that most of it had passed and every trip to the bathroom is just the reminder of what was lost. When will it stop? When will I heal?
And the icing on the cake.... happy birthday to me.
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