Tuesday, September 9th was a bad day. I went to work like normal, but as the morning went on, I started having some light cramps that got worse and worse, and I had some (sorry to any boys reading this blog) spotting that got worse and worse. Well, I freaked out and went home 'sick' (forgive the lie; I didn't want to explain this to anyone at work). I called my mom as I always do when there's something wrong, and asked her at what point I'm supposed to begin worrying. All my books say that light spotting and slight cramps are normal in early pregnancy. But where's the line between 'slight' and 'bad'? Mom suggested I call my doctor and tell him what's happening, and he'll at least give me some reassurance. So I called the clinic, but my doctor and his nurse were out that day. Being all flustered and nervous, I just said "Thank you," and hung up. So I sat for a bit, trying to convince myself that I was overreacting and what was happening was perfectly normal.
I texted Chris and told him to either call me on his lunch break or come home for lunch. He texted back 'Coming home'. The cramping and spotting kept getting progressively worse, so I called the clinic back. I asked if there was any nurse I could talk to about it because I was really concerned, and the woman on the other end said that all the nurses were out on their lunch break till 1:30. Great. Ugh. But she put me through to the Emergency Room nurse, who, after I explained what was happening, told me that she's not allowed to give advice over the phone. But, if it's really bad and I'm so concerned, I'm more than welcome to come down to the E.R. and be checked out. Neat. Go to the Emergency Room for something that very well may be nothing at all. Again, I said "Thank you," and hung up. Chris came home at noon and was all concerned, and I told him what was going on. He was really frustrated that the clinic 'makes you go down and pay them before they'll tell you anything'. I was frustrated, too, but I thought it was probably nothing anyway, so I decided to just relax, take it easy, and it would probably get better.
Chris went back to work. I laid on the couch trying to relax. Did it get better? Nope. So I finally went to the clinic (they can't tell me to just go home, right?) and told the girl at the reception desk what was happening, and she said that I'd definitely want to be seen asap. She had me sit in the waiting room while they found someone available to see me. It was a very busy day, and they were triaging all the patients to nurses. Well, the nurse saw me, and said that they'd probably want me to see an ObGyn, so I sat in the waiting room again. Finally, an appointment was set up and I went downstairs to where the ObGyn department is.
By the way, when you're trying to get pregnant, or having problems with your pregnancy, everybody you see is pregnant. Or has a baby. Or the cutest little one-and-a-half year old. Everybody.
So anyway, by this time it was just after 3:00, so Chris met me down in the waiting room while I was waiting for the Ob's nurse to call me. I was pretty gosh darn worried...I didn't know what to expect. We finally got in and saw Dr. Jones. She asked how far along I was and I told her that I was in my 6th week. Chris held my hand as she did an ultrasound, and saw that the little black circle in my belly that was my baby was actually at 4 weeks, not 6. She suggested that perhaps our date was off, perhaps we had had twins and were in the process of losing one, or perhaps I was miscarrying altogether. She said she'd like to see me again on Monday, and they'd do another ultrasound to see if it had grown or if there were any other changes.
We went home and sat together. I cried so, so much. I had been so happy to be pregnant, and so many people already knew about it. There was a little life inside me, and it might not even have a chance. I wanted to make Chris a daddy. He was, thankfully, very optimistic. He kept telling me not to lose hope, we probably just had twins and lost one, that's all. I tried to be optimistic, but when you're spotting (again, sorry for any boys reading this) and it's more than just 'spotting'...if you know what I mean...a woman can get pretty dang worried. I called my mom and told her what was happening, which always makes me feel better.
I stayed home from work the next day. If anything was going to...happen...I didn't want it to happen at work. Turns out it did happen that day.
We had already had an appointment scheduled with my regular doctor, Dr. Thompson, for Friday, during which we were just going to talk to him about who we would see while he was on leave. He's in the National Guard and had been called up, so he'd be gone for the bulk of my pregnancy. We told him what had been happening, and that we'd had an ultrasound, which told us that the baby was only 4 weeks along. He didn't want us to wait till Monday to find anything out, so he ordered an ultrasound for that day. Guess what. The girl who did the ultrasound was pregnant. Go figure.
Anyway, she wasn't allowed to tell us the results, so we had to wait for Dr. Thompson to see us again. We were in the waiting room, Chris trying to make me laugh, like usual. God bless him. I was surprised to see Dr. Thompson himself motion to us from the doorway, rather than a nurse. My heart fell into my stomach. I hadn't felt pregnant for the last two days. In the back of my head was a voice that told me that it was gone, my heart told me, from the pit of my stomach, that it was gone. But I couldn't let myself go there. I kept thinking that we're going to get some incredibly happy news, and all this fuss was just because we had our date figured out wrong.
Dr. Thompson told us that the ultrasound showed no evidence of an interuterine pregnancy. Our baby was gone. He was so sorry.
(Deep breath, sigh.) Dr. Thompson had some very true statements. People are going to tell us that they're sorry, and it just wasn't meant to be. They'll say it's okay. And we'll feel like they're minimizing our pain. That is a true statement. He said that people aren't going to know what to say, so that's what they say. 'It just wasn't meant to be.' I believe that. I know there's a path that Chris and I are going down, and this is a part of it that I was supposed to endure. I know that. I don't need people to tell me that. I don't need people to act like everything's going to be just fine. I know I'll be okay. That doesn't make the pain stop. I had a life growing inside me, and now it's gone. That is the most pain I've ever felt.
I'm very appreciative of people who say those things, don't get me wrong. It's very true that people just don't know what to say, so they always fall back on the old standby. I'm receptive to people's sentiments, I just don't particularly want to hear them. That sounds harsh, but it's true.
Dr. Thompson had these true statements because he had had first-hand experience. His wife had three miscarriages before they had their 3 children. He was very understanding and sympathetic. I should have thanked him again.
So. Chris and I got to the parking lot and for the first time this week, Chris cried. He cried hard. Then he got quiet, and we went home. It was almost noon when we got home ons Friday, and Chris cried again. Hard. It broke my heart to see him so upset. Since I'd basically been mourning since Tuesday, and he hadn't mourned at all until the doctor gave us the news, Friday was a bad day for Chris.
If there's any good news in all of this, it's that I completed the miscarriage and I don't have to have any procedures done. We'll try again in a month or so. But when May 5th comes around I probably won't be celebrating Cinco de Mayo.
