This is such a hard post to write. Perhaps that’s why it has taken me a few days to even start it. I guess the only place to start is at the beginning. Hopefully, putting this down for some sort of permanent record will help me move past this. This may be a graphic post, so if you aren’t interested in hearing the inner workings of my body, stop reading now.
It started on Saturday. I went to the bathroom and there was a little bit of spotting. I was instantly horrified and sure of what was going on, but I kept telling myself to stop freaking out. But I knew. I just knew. As is usually my plan, I decided to just wait until something forced to me face the reality – either things would get worse, or they wouldn’t. And then I’d “know.” But I already knew. I just didn’t want to know.
On Sunday morning, I woke up and I was full on bleeding. Clots and all. Like a heavy period, only worse. Luckily, I knew enough to beg Rob to go to the store and buy me some pads. I haven’t had those in the house since I was a kid, but they tell you not to use tampons. He so kindly obliged. I think he was worried, but he’s such a trooper.
I begged him to take me out to breakfast, just to get out of the house. We went to the Ale House. Rob actually suggested that we go to Bistro Blanc, but I’ve been avoiding that place since I found out I was pregnant. I knew they would force me to tell them that I was preggers and now it was even more horrific to tell them that I was potentially in the process of losing said pregnancy. Eek. I just couldn’t do it.
So we go out to breakfast and I go off to the bathroom and by the time I came back, I told Rob, “We have to call the doctor.” Because it was the weekend, I had been avoiding calling the on-call doctor. I kept thinking that this wasn’t urgent enough. I mean, I was just miscarrying. Ok, so it sounds totally stupid now, but at the time, I didn’t want them to think that I was just being one of those stupid first-timers that freaks out about everything. But it was becoming abundantly clear that I did not know what I was doing and really wasn’t sure how I should be taking care of myself. So I called. And then the back pressure started. Just like when I get my period, but so much worse (noticing a theme yet?). I actually called the on-call doctor from the parking lot. She called back in minutes and told me that they recommend that I go to the ER and get a complete once-over. So we, very calmly, went home, walked the dogs, grabbed some water and snacks, changed into comfortable clothes. It was all a little surreal. Hey the doctor said we’d probably have to wait. I wanted to be prepared.
At this point, I figured there was no real possibility that things would “work out for the best.” I just wanted to get looked at, told what to do and make sure I wasn’t f’ing up my body for the next time I wanted to try making babies. In the course of the hour or so that we were in the waiting room, I started to really bleed. I was going through more than one pad an hour. Yikes. It was like I could never really wipe it up. I actually used up all the toilet paper in one of the bathrooms. Oops. Trying to do the right thing, I let the woman at the front desk know. She was such bi-atch. Oh my! Like I was ruining her day for letting her know that the tp was out. Well, I’m sorry.
Finally, a nurse called us back. She was taking my vitals and asked, “Was this a planned pregnancy?” We awkwardly mumbled something like, “Sort of, I guess, maybe.” So she beams back, “Well congratulations!!” Umm, WHAT?!? How freaking insensitive! I mean, here I am, full-on miscarrying, with really no indication that it could be anything else and she’s congratulating me? What? She just didn’t read enough of my chart of why I was there. I very rudely (ok not that rudely, I’ve certainly been worse), said, “Um what are you congratulating us on? We are here because I’m most likely losing the baby.” She sputtered a few apologies and something about “let’s look on the bright side.” I mean come on. COME ON!
Eventually, they wheeled me to off to do the ultrasound. I think I’ll pick up the story there tomorrow. There is really only so much I can share in one sitting… So if you want to hear the thrilling end to this terrible tale, tune in tomorrow.