The pregnancy seemed to be progressing normally, except I seemed to have frequently quite a bit of cramping, but no bleeding. I continued with my normal routine of exercising, helping my husband with his business, and as few household chores as I could get away with, and a new activity now, shopping for baby clothes at consignment stores.
Because, I am not currently working as a nurse and my husband is self-employed, we did not have health insurance. I applied for medical assistance, but as of this moment am still appealing their denial due to lack of financial records for my husband's business. (I now have the records). Since I am a disabled veteran and go to the VA for my medical care, the VA found a loophole and got me to the University Hospital next door to them.
We finally managed to have our first prenatal visit at eleven weeks. At that time they were unable to find a heartbeat, but said that was not necessarily unusual. In hindsight, I wish they would have done a sonogram then.
At twelve weeks, I started having strong cramping. I waited a few days before calling the clinic, because I dreaded having to sit in their waiting room for hours as we had the first time we went. Finally, after three days of these strong cramps, we went in to be seen. During this waiting period, I went to the bathroom and noticed that I had started to bleed. The tears started for I could no longer deny what was happening. I came out of the bathroom to the front desk holding my urine sample, choking on the words, "I started to bleed and could I please have a label for this specimen". The girl, who apparently I found out later thought I was a GYN patient, and did not understand the significance of the bleeding told me that I would have to wait to be registered. I just felt so devestated and uncared for. I am sure she was
not intentionally uncaring, but her insensitivity still hurt. I then walked over to where my husband was waiting and told him that I had started to bleed. The tears were welling up in my eyes. I knew. It was over.
The nurse called me a little bit later, took my vital signs and weighed me. I told her also that I had started bleeding. She did not appear to think much of it. Maybe she had other things on her mind. She said I could go back out tot he waiting room and sit, but I asked her if I could lay down in one of the rooms as I was feeling dizzy. She found an exam table for me to curl up on and brought me a blanket.
In a little while the young, well-meaning resident came in with the peppy nursing student. He seemed not to have read my chart and had little idea of what was going on. It was painful for me to have
to explain it to him. He said he would try to listen for a heart beat and he tried to reassure me that it would still not be that unusual not to hear it. I remarked that I thought I was most likely having a miscarriage and doubted he would be able to find a heartbeat. After a few minutes of trying with the doppler to find a heart beat, he gave up. Next, he did a vaginal exam and said that the bleeding was minimal and that the cervix was closed, "which was a good sign". Then he said, to my disbelief that he was going to send me home with a prescription for antibiotics, in case I had a bladder infection, and that even if I was having a miscarriage, his management would not change. I could not believe what I was hearing. They would actually send me home without telling me whether my baby was alive or not. At this point, I became more demanding and requested a sonogram. He did agree to do a sonogram since I was so concerned and probably appeared frantic.
In a few minutes we were off to the ultrasound department. My husband and I were taken into a small room with the ultrasound machine, an exam table and an assortement of other suppolies. An abdominal sonogram and a transvaginal sonogram were performed. I had never had a transvaginal ultrasound before and when I saw the apparatus, in a moment of attempted levity remarked that it looked definitely like something a man had designed! Condom and jelly on it and all! The technician was fairly somber when doing the exam. The screen was turned away from me, but my husband cuold see it. They did not find a heart beat and discovered that the baby had stopped growing at eight weeks. My husband later told me that he had seen the baby and described it as still being curved with little leg buds and a little head starting to form. He said that was very sad for him to see that and I felt bad for him that he had to feel that pain and sense of loss.
The radiologist told us what we already knew. He also told me that I had several fibroids, but that this was not uncommon in caucasian females.
We were handed a sealed envelope (as if I did not know what it said) and sent back to the clinic. The young "Dougie Houser" like looking resident took us into one of the offices and explained that I would need a D&C, but wuld have to wait four days since this was not an emergency and that was when they scheduled them to be done. We discussed possible reasons for the death of our baby and plans for the next pregnancy. We left sad, but relieved to know what was going on and positive that we would be pregnant again soon.
Two days later at home I went into labor. I wish someone had told me that it was going to be that painful. The only difference between that labor and my other labor was that it was shorter. I called the hospital and they told me I could come in if the pain was unbearable. We decided to go in, but just as we were walking out the door, I had a gush of fluid and blood and the
pain settled down. We decided to stay at home for the time being. I was taking Extra-Strength Tylenol and Motrin to ease the pain. It helped with the mild pains, but not with the severe pains.
The next day, the pains were less severe than the previous day, and I thought I would most likely need the D&C. I had mixed feelings aobut having the D&C. If this pain, cramping and bleeding were to go on indefinitely, then I wanted to get it over with. Plus, it had been explained to me that there was always a risk of infection if I did not have the D&C. I then later found out that there is a risk of infection if one does have the D&C. So, either way there are risks. But, it also seemed to me that it was healthier and less traumatic for my uterus and my cervix to pass the fetus naturally without surgical intervention of dilitation, suction, and possibly scraping. As a nurse, I had seen the instruments used for D&C's and they were not very friendly looking. More like instruments of
torture.
Well, the next afternoon, nature made my decision for me. When I was in the bathroom I noticed a little bit of tissue hanging out of the vagina. Shortly thereafter a small mass of tissue, about the size of an egg dropped into the toilet. I scooped it up as I had been instructed to save the products of conception. The egg like sac was attached to another small piece of tissue. I assumed the string like attachment to be the umbilical cord attached to a miniscule placenta. I called to my husband and asked him if he wanted to come see. He came into the bathroom and examined our tiny "product of conception" that I was holding in my hand. My husband said, "Is that what we were supposed to be so proud of". That's just how he copes with things, trying to stay cool, calm and not taking things too seriously. I put the "products of conception" in a container, wrapped it up and put it in the refrigerator, trying not to think too much about what I had actually put in there.
The next day, the day of the scheduled D&C, I called the OR at 7:00 AM to let them know that they could cancel me.
I was told to come in a little bit later to make sure I had passed everything. I took "junior" as I was know referring to the package of the "products of conception" in my bag and we were off to the hospital. I was only having mild cramping at tihs time. We were taken to the High Risk Pregnancy Area where they have an ultrasound machine. We showed "junior" to a group of doctors. My husband said,"It's about seven weeks size". One of the doctors seemed to say curtly to my husband, "Are you a doctor?" I was about ready to rush to the defense of my husband and demand to know how tihs doctor could be so nasty, when it turned out that the doctor was actually impressed with my husband knowledge that it was a seven week size fetus. My husband explained that he knew the gestational age because he had been told that by the Radiologist. We all had a moment of laughter.
Next, I was taken in for another abdominal and transvaginal ultrasound. In fact, I had passed everything and was not in need of a D&C. I could have told them that, but the confirmation was reassuring.
We then sat down with the doctor and discussed the advisability of waiting three months before conceiving again, my thyroid condition, and specialists we could refer with prior to pregnancy to help give us a better chance next time.
It has been one week now since I delivered "junior" and I find myself to be battling waves of depression. Not knowing where I am heading, struggling to find my identity. This is all normal so I have been told and have read, but that does not seem to help.
When we were done speaking with the doctors we went to see the bereavement couselor and spoke with her awhile and were given some litterature to read. I will share some of this information down a bit further.
Well, as I finally conclude this account of our loss a week later, because I have not had much strength, I still am sad, depressed, irritable, but still believing that there is a child or more in our future.
To all of you who were there for us, thank you so much and you will remain in our prayers as you pursue your dreams for happy healthy babies.
We then sat down with the doctor and discussed the advisability of waiting three months before conceiving again, my thyroid condition, and specialists we could refer with prior to pregnancy to help give us a better chance next time.
It has been one week now since I delivered "junior" and I find myself to be battling waves of depression. Not knowing where I am heading, struggling to find my identity. This is all normal so I have been told and have read, but that does not seem to help.
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