This has been a tough week to say the least.
On Monday, I went in for what was supposed to be a routine OB appointment. Sunday was the 11 week mark in this pregnancy. At my appointment I was looking forward to hearing the heartbeat. However, it wasn't meant to be. The midwife got out the doppler to listen to the heartbeat and could not find one. She then did an exam, determined that my uterus was tilted and so maybe that the baby was hiding. She sent me across town to have an ultrasound done. The ultrasound tech confirmed my worst fear - there was no heartbeat, the baby was dead. They sent me back to the midwives for further instruction. The tears began to flow.
Back at the midwives', they take me back to a room. There they tell me that this happens a lot at their practice. (Not exactly encouraging news - especially since I was hesitant to call them in the first place because the last 4-digits of their phone number is 0666.) Then the midwife goes over my options and tells me to call them as soon as I had made my decision.
That night Grant and I discussed our options and I also spoke with my cousin that is a physician. Between the two conversations and along with doing some research, I decided to choose the D&C. I knew that emotionally I could not handle seeing the tissue and essentially the baby in the toilet. Nor could I handle the waiting for it to happen and the pain - both physically and emotionally - that would come with that.
So I impatiently wait for the midwife office to open at 9 am on Tuesday. I call, speak with a receptionist, tell her my information and what I have decided and she tells me that a midwife will call me right back. Over 4 hrs later, I have not heard anything. I call back - a little irritated by now - and I ask if it is normal to wait over 4 hrs for a return call. The receptionist puts me on hold, then comes right back and tells me that the other receptionist is on the phone with the medical practice that performs the procedure. (Midwives, obviously don't do D&Cs.) I hold a while longer and when they get back on the phone, they tell me that the first available appointment was June 1. That was nearly 3 more weeks past where we already were and the chances of me "releasing" the baby on my own before then were pretty high. The receptionist and I were in agreement that that was too long to wait and she would call me back later once they found a better date. Her "better date" was May 22 - and that appointment was only a consult and from there they would schedule the actual procedure for a later time.
This did not set well with me. I decided to call Generations (where I had gone for my first two pregnancies) and I asked if this was normal procedure. The poor girl that answered my call got to deal with a sobbing, hurting no-longer-mom-to-be. Soon after, I received a call from Mary, Dr. Vaughan's nurse. She asked me some more questions and said that she would speak with Dr. V and get back to me.
Wednesday morning, Mary called back. She said that Dr. V would do the procedure on Thursday (today). A little later the O.R. called me and set up the time and told me all the specifics about not being able to eat or drink after midnight and so on. Surgery was scheduled for 10:30 am with arrival at 9:30.
So off we went this morning to "D day". As per the norm in the medical field, they were running late. The wait continued. We finally get called back to the pre-op area and get all prettied up (ha!) and speak with the doctor and everyone else on the floor it seemed. About an hour later than planned, I go back to surgery. Last thing I remember was thinking that the table I was on was very narrow and I was glad that I hadn't eaten any cookies the night before and I prayed to God that everything would be okay. Next thing I know, I wake up in recovery with a splitting headache and I can't see because they haven't given me my glasses back yet.
Soon after, they have me get up and go to a different room when I try to shake the nauseous feeling and the headache. While I am in that room, one of my nurses received a visit from her newborn grandson and his parents - and boy did that sting. They were in the hallway right outside my room and my curtain was open so I could see and hear all of the happy chatter. My other nurse must have heard and seen what was going on because she came right over and closed my curtain and apologized to us for witnessing that after what I had just gone through. We told her that it was okay and we understand that life goes on. Soon after the nurse that had the grandson also came and apologized. After she left is when I finally lost it. I try to keep my emotions in check for the most part - but obviously I can't do that this time.
I know that it will take time to heal from this. I don't know if I will ever completely do so. Tonight when I was praying with Brielle before bed, I couldn't keep the tears back and I am sure that this is only the beginning.
