Bad News

Today is an absolutely gorgeous day in Portland. Spring is here. But there is a very dark cloud hanging over my house. Let's refresh...When last we were together, I was having some spotting. Last night the spotting became light bleeding and some minimal cramping with a couple blood clots thrown in. All dark, indicating old blood. This morning, I felt bettter, but decided to take the day off anyway and call the midwife. She was very reassuring and told me the cramps could be normal uterine growth pains and brown (as far as spotting) is good. I hung on the phone and whined a little and she said, "if it will give you peace of mind, why don't you come in and we will check you out with the Doppler." Dan came home and we went in. I actually felt good and was kind of excited. Dan missed the first ultrasound and hasn't gotten to see the heartbeat yet. I was happy we could experience this together. So, before she ran it accross my belly (which was strangely tender...) she gave us the spiel: Its still early, blah, blah...If don't hear something it doesn't necessarily mean anything, blah blah blah...yeah, yeah, get on with it! She told us if we didn't hear anything on the Doppler, she would send us to the hospital for an ultrasound. Which is what I wanted anyway. So, I wasn't TOO scared when after about 10 minutes, nothing  but my own stomach gurgling came up on the Doppler. The hospital said they could squeeze me in ASAP, so I quick downed as much water as I could and we dashed on down the road.

The outpatient receptionist who checked me in was one of those very friendly people who will talk to anyone. She saw that I was a school district employee and said, "How are you guys going to find that 57 million dollars you need?" And showed me the picture of her daughter who is in first grade at one of our schools. Adorable. She told me she was 39 when she had the little pumpkin and asked, "is this your first?" then told me, "you are going to have so much fun!"

"I hope so..."

In the waiting room, it occurred to me that it was one year ago, almost EXACTLY, that I was sitting in the same waiting room waiting for my HSG. The beginning of my infertility treatment. Wow. So much has happened. I have changed. I am not the same after this long long journey back to the same waiting room. And that is permanent.

The ultrasound was just strange and uncomfortable. She kept looking at my cervix, ovaries, even my kidneys. Our first clue was how much she just avoided my whole uterus, only glimpsing briefly before (I'm very grateful for) letting me pee and switching to the old familiar transvaginal wand. Oh, wand. My old friend. How I have missed you (not). And it HURT this time. Not a good sign, but I suppose a tender cervix isn't unusual in pregnancy. Again, a fascination with measuring my outer organs and staying away from baby center. Then she measured. It was morose. She said nothing. I studied what was on the screen intently and squeezed Dan's hand. The fetus measured 8w2d. Today should be 12 weeks. And there was no heartbeat. I asked her about this, and her response was, "Actually, I'm not supposed to tell you that" WHAT THE FUCK?! She was instructed to tell the radiologist who faxes the report to my midwife who then calls me. So, I had to go home with the strong suspicion that my baby had died over three weeks ago and wait for the phone call that would rub it in confirm it. And it has since been confirmed. This pregnancy is all but over. My next decision is whether to let this happen naturally or go in for a D and C tomorrow or the next day. I'm all for natural birth, but when it comes to miscarriage, bring on the medical intervention. When she explained the pain I may go through and warned that if the bleeding became too profuse, I would need to go to the emergency room, it was a no brainer. Pour me some anethesia. Make it a double, please.

The funny thing is, while last night in the midst of crazy uncertainty I was a blubbering mess, with today's finality, I am much calmer and although it would do  me good to cry, I am fairly peaceful. It hasn't all sunk in yet. I still have ebay auctions for baby stuff pending. Books laying about every room of the house. Appointments to cancel. People to tell. Oh, how I DREAD going back to work. I think the news has JUST spread to all corners of the work place.

What is just now occurring to me is that when I told Dan I was starting to feel better, it wasn't because I was ALMOST in my second trimester, but that my hormones were decreasing. And that when she couldn't hear the heartbeat on the Doppler at my 9 week appointment and dismissed it as too early, it was probably already dead. But, we both felt fine because just one week earlier I had seen the heartbeat on ultrasound at the perinatal clinic. I know, I know, don't tell me that nothing I did could have made any difference. But, I can't help but take inventory. Week 8-9. I had one tiny little sip of wine that my dad said was fabulous. Just a taste. I had a massage. Was that when I helped physically restrain an out of control student? Didn't I eat some deli meat before I heard I wasn't supposed to?

Comments

[S.]

I am so very, very sorry for your loss.

[amanda]

Oh, my heart is just breaking for you. I am so very sorry. I just so wish things were different. I'll be keeping you and Dan in my thoughts. I wish I could do more.

[millie]

I'm so very sorry. I wish you luck with your d & c and hope it all goes as well as it can. I'm sure it's nothing that you did though I understand the need for an explanation. I'm thinking of you and just so sorry for your loss.

[DD]

Oh, Joie, I am so, so sorry. Please don't beat yourself on what-ifs. I know. That's so much easier said than done. I'm here if you want to drop me an email.

[Robin]

First and foremost, I am so, so sorry and sad. I was really rooting for this pregnancy.

Second, don't blame yourself for one second. None of the things you listed would have brought an end to your pregnancy. Not by themselves, and not in combination with each other.

I hope you can take heart in the fact that you can get pregnant. It's small consolation, I know, but I hope it will give you and Dan hope. You'll both be on my mind and in my heart.

[Demeter]

Joie,
So sorry to hear the news. Was reading DD's blog when I read about you.
Life sucks big time and nothing you did was the reason for your loss. I hope better days for you.

[Lisa]

Just so very sorry. I want to say more, but I don't know how. I'm thinking of you.

[mm]

I'm so very sorry.

[rachel]

(((((joie)))))

[Milenka]

I'm so sorry.

[korin]

Joie I'm so so so sorry. My heart aches for you. Please be gentle with yourself, and know that you are very loved.

[Eileen]

Please don't second guess yourself. You are right about one thing, you are forever changed from a year ago, because you are a mom. Now and forever, you were the mom to that baby. And you know what it's like to worry and fret - a year ago you chastised me for what a worrywart mom I was. But now you know, you know what it's like to have your heart completely taken by this little being and not be able to control everything that happens, just hoping and praying all along. I'm so sorry. I am just so, so sorry. You sound so strong and now I'm the one blubbering. I miss that little person who was going to be the next stairstep in our lives already.

[Alexa]

I am just so terribly sorry to hear of your loss.

[Molly]

Oh my God, Joie. This is absolutely heartbreaking. I'm so sorry that you've lost your little one. So, so sorry.

[Catherine]

I am so sorry, my heart breaks to learn of another baby lost.

[Kellie]

I'm so sorry for your loss Joie.

[cat]

Deepest sympathies to you. My heart is breaking for you both. We know exactly how you feel right now, the lost feelings, the doubts. No, it doesn't help to assure you that you did nothing wrong but it is still true. Sending you love, support and hugs that I wish were real ones. We will be thinking of you and mourning by your side, if only in spirit.

[MsPrufrock]

Oh Joie, I'm so sorry.

[Wavery]

Found you through DD. What a terrible thing, I'm so sorry.

[Erin]

I am so very sorry.

[Victoria Winters]

I am SO sorry for your loss. Please don't give up. There are many people supporting and loving you. Love and hugs from a stranger (but wanna-be friend) in Nashville!

[Firebrand]

First of all, I am terribly sorry for your loss! I know nothing that strangers say can really heal the pain (oh, how I know that all too well!), but you should try to be gentle with yourself and not run through the "what ifs"...the fact is that you could have done every. last. thing. by the book and still have had the same outcome. Take the time that you need to grieve for your loss and please try to be kind to yourself...

[Nico]

I am so incredibly sorry for your loss. What a miserable thing to happen. Do take care, and know that we are all thinking of you.

[Stacy Quarty]

So sorry for your loss and thank you for sharing your most intimate and horrifying moments. It's a true gift to anyone's who has ever been there.

[Onova]

I am so, so, sorry for your loss. I can only *imagine* how hard this must be!! Your story (with its ups and downs) has touched so many. . .