So today brings me back to the sadness of the past two, well, more like three, weeks. After today, I just need to write about it. Happy posts will start back up tomorrow. There is so much happy news. This entry might be considered very TMI , so, reader be warned.
Our year started off with a surprising bang. Positive pregnancy test. Wow. Unexpected. I thought the due date was the beginning of September. The babies would be summer “bookends.” Memorial Day and Labor Day. We start coming up with nicknames, as we can’t call this the bump again.
Nausea and fatigue start up almost immediately and fill the weeks that follow. I could barely keep my eyes open after 8pm. I get an early visit with one of the mid-wives, an early ultra-sound scheduled to be followed by the actual OB, as I’m “complicated” with the DVT last time, and well, just being old. Ok. I can understand that.
This news finally gets Stu and I to get our act together and put this house on the market and find a new, larger one. A house with two nurseries. And a guest room. Uncluttering and cleaning take place in the few conscious hours a day I had. Kept ourselves busy and got the house ready to list on January 25th. The agent had priced it right, and it sold in under a week. I love this house. It really is a great house. I wasn’t surprised it sold that fast. I miss it already.
So, January just slipped by in the groggy blink of an eye.
Friday the 29th was the ultrasound appointment. The day started off with excitement, of course. We’d get to see the baby today. I end up going to the doctor’s on my own, Stu had a meeting he couldn’t get out of. I also had to bring Teagan, as she’s usually not in day care on Fridays. Ooohs and aaaahs from the ladies and the PA’s in the office. They hadn’t seen her since the six week (and 8 and 9 weeks) postpartum appointments. The new u/s tech at the doctor’s office is a sweet lady and she’s talkative, which is always a nice thing. You find out all sorts of neat things, and get to see the bean at interesting angles. You usually get good pictures from a talkative tech. So, the scan starts off well, she’s chatting, talking to Teagan, talking to me. She’s pointing out gestational sacks, yolk sacks, fetal poles. Goes in for her measurements, and starts talking a bit less. She asks if I’m sure of my dates, which I was. She mentions that things look a bit small, but as everything is there, she said she’s not worried. She then looks for the heartbeat – I was 7 weeks, so there should have been a heartbeat. Heartbeat is a bit slow. She suggests that maybe I should talk to the doctor before I leave.
I get sent to a small room to wait. It’s the same doctor who delivered Teagan. I’m asked again if my dates could be off two or three weeks. No, they really couldn’t be. So, I get the talk about how the growth seems to be at least two weeks delayed, and that coupled with a slow heartbeat has them concerned. I get scheduled for a “viability” scan the following week, and told that if I start to miscarry to give them a call.
Nothing happens all week. I try not to think about it. Try to think positive thoughts. It’s still not a sure thing. Beans can have spurts and catch up. Friday eventually comes, and I go back for the viability scan. Stu and Teagan stay home. If all is well, then he can come to the next one, and I didn’t feel like dragging him and Teagan along for bad news, if there was any bad news. Well, the scan starts up a bit more soberly than the week before. The tech immediately goes to find the heartbeat and tries for several minutes, but can’t find it. There’s no heartbeat. My heart drops. I get sent to the room again to wait for the doctor. I find a moment to call home and let Stu know that there wasn’t a heartbeat. The doctor comes in and asks how I’m doing. Asks if I want to schedule a procedure. I say that I’m doing ok, as ok as can be expected, that if it’s ok, I’d like to not have a procedure if I don’t need to. We’re going away for the weekend. I don’t have time for a procedure. How quickly can I get scheduled in if I change my mind?
The weekend is the wonderful weekend in PA, with snow and friends and geeky games and laughs. Nothing really starts until late Monday, and truth be told, limps along until Wednesday. I call in sick Wednesday. And Thursday, and Friday to finish the week. The doctor calls every day to see how I’m doing. As things seem to be going ok, no need to schedule the procedure. SHe just says that once I think everything is “done” that I should call to get another u/s to ensure that it was a complete miscarriage. Ok. After Sunday, things slow down again, so by Wednesday I call to schedule the follow up. The tech is super nice, gives me a hug when I get in – while I still have my pants on. She ends up saying she can’t find any fetal tissue, but there’s still some endometrial tissue. A bit more than they like. Again, I’m sent to the little room to wait for the doctor to come talk to me. She says that we can still schedule a procedure, but she’d like to see if they can “push things along” with some medication. She prescribes Methergine to start up contractions to see if that helps get the last of the tissue out.
I took those pills today. I spent the day nauseous and crampy. A forceful and uncomfortable reminder of what’s still going on, of what we lost. A reminder that things still aren’t done. Today is another sad day, in too many sad days for so soon in the new year. I do have an u/s picture though, it looks just like a diamond ring.
Tomorrow, I’ll talk about the happy. Promise.