Part 2 - Devastation

I had scheduled our 2nd appointment for 6/14 and at first was going to go by myself. I told Pat I'd really like it if he came to this one too because, 'what if something's wrong and I'm there by myself.'

Well, I'm glad he came.

My OB came in, asked the standard questions and told me that my blood work from my 1st appointment came back perfect. Then he tried the ultrasound on my stomach and wasn't successful. Apparently my baby was hiding... if only... I wanted an internal one because I had a need to hear his heartbeat this time.

I switched into the ever so flattering paper sheet and my OB came in to start. After a few minutes he turned the monitor around. His face was different. He asked me if I saw the baby. Yes, I said. He asked again, and I said yes and pointed. I knew something was wrong. He then asked if anything was different and pointed to where the heartbeat should be.

There was no heartbeat.
There was NO heartbeat.
THERE WAS NO HEARTBEAT!!!!

No, this cannot be happening. Not to me, not to us, not to my family.

A day away from 10 weeks, my little one was still measuring at about 8.

Tears ensued. Sorrow, devastation, numbness, disbelief, horror.

My OB wanted another ultrasound to make sure since their equipment was better than what he has in his office. I had one scheduled for Friday at 9:40 am. I left the office and called my boss, sobbing that I would not be in the next day.

I went to my mom's and talked to her for a while and then came home with my little family of 3. K makes this harder and easier at the same time. She makes me laugh, but then cry at the thought of being able to have her and then loosing this baby. She would point to the tears and say 'uh oh mommy.' Heart melts. It is hard trying to hold it together for her and be strong when all I want to do is lay in bed and cry.

Friday morning we got ready to go in to see the ultrasound tech. I felt like I was walking into heartache.  I became numb, and then she turned the sound on. The sound of nothingness filled the room and I lost it. It is true, my baby is gone. The reality began to sink in, and it sucked. The tech then proceeded to say the most horrible cliche things that no one cares to hear during a time like this. I stopped listening when she started blabbering about '... the baby's still hanging on mommy, it just doesn't want to let go' Yes, thank you. As if I don't have a hard enough time processing the fact that my baby has been dead for two weeks.

That afternoon my OB called me to discuss what happens next. I had three options and decided to go with a D&C. After a few phone calls we set it up for 7 am Tuesday morning.

Days passed. It didn't seem real. How could it? This was not supposed to happen. We were successful with K, what changed?

We arrived at the hospital Tuesday morning at 5:45 to get checked in. The nurses came, asked what procedure I was having and of course wanted to talk about the details. I kept it together, even when one nurse had an overly shocked look on her face when I explained I had no idea that I miscarried until I went in for my 10 week appointment. I was strong... until 20 minutes before my procedure. I cracked, I couldn't hold it in any longer. And then, the worst part of the morning thus far... My OB came in and said there was another form I had to sign. The form to determine what was to be done with the 'Fetal Remains' of my baby. Seriously?!?!?!? Was this necessary? Crushing, to say it lightly.

As they wheeled me into the OR we talked about the precious child I did have, that is helping me hold it together. The oxygen was put on and the next thing I remember was waking up hysterical back in my 'room.' I heard the nurse say to go get Patrick, I continued my hysteria and then I heard her say, ok we really need to get Patrick. The nurse proceeded to let me know she was going to give me something to calm me down. Hysteria turned to merely sobbing, I got another dose (or two). Finally, I was calm.

I asked Pat the same questions probably like 20 times. I knew I had asked him, I just couldn't remember the answers. It didn't take very long for me to feel up to leaving. An old lady came to wheel me down to the car, and just like that, my baby was gone.

On the way to my mom's, Pat had to pull over so I could get sick. Lovely. The procedure itself was painless, physically of course. Even afterward, I didn't have any cramping and I barely spotted.

Emotionally, I don't even know where to begin.