I've seen better days
Jul. 30th, 2006 09:32 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
laurafluteI, um, I really want to talk to you guys but I don't know where to start.
I woke up and found I bled through the pantiliner I'd been wearing for the spotting and passed a clot. I tried to tell myself it was just from being on my feet all day and laid back down with my feet up, hoping that would stem the bleeding like it has in the past.
At 5:40 I passed another clot. I called my mother and told her I was on my way to the hospital. We drove to Labor and Delivery where I spent what I can honestly call the worst 5 hours of my life.
I started cramping on the drive over, but they were vaginal rather than abdominal so I kept hoping and hoping and hoping that at the end of the day it would be a big scare we could both laugh about 7 months from now. Joe told me later he was thought about talking to our child when it was older and saying, "We went through so much to get you here, but it was worth it."
We got there about 6. The admitting nurse was a bitch and I was very glad shift change was coming soon so I wouldn't have to deal with her much longer. She said I wasn't really bleeding that bad (I wasn't in terms of hemorrhaging, but I knew it wasn't good) and abandoned me after I she told me I'd have to wait until 9 to have an ultrasound on the good machine. Luckily the nurse that replaced her was so nice I don't even care about nurse #1. There wasn't anything that could've been done, anyway.
About 7ish I realized I'd bled through my stylish hospital gown. Joe ran down the hall and got the day nurse just as she was coming on. She checked me and told me it wasn't as bad as it looked, I wasn't hemorrhaging, and she gave me some washclothes to clean myself up with and got me a new gown and changed the sheets and padding on the exam table. While I was washing up I passed groups of clots. The cramping got worse, but never worse than the worst menstrual cramps I've had. I wasn't allowed to have anything for the pain on the chance I wasn't miscarrying. I wasn't allowed to eat or drink in case I was and needed a D&C. Joe and I kept crying off and on. We knew what was going on, but until someone said it we didn't want to believe it.
I was wheeled to ultrasound at 9. I went through the abdominal round alone because Joe had stepped out to call my parents to keep them updated and have a cigarette. The sonagrapher was very, very nice throughout the procedure and told me she'd lost her first pregnancy but went on to have two children, so no matter how it turned out I would most likely be okay. Joe caught up with me before they performed the vaginal ultrasound (somehow I knew he would) and held my hand and watched the screen. I could tell from his face it didn't look good. When we got home he admitted he knew from the ultrasound I'd miscarried because the sonagrapher only marked the uterus. The orderly wheeled me back to the exam room and Joe and I waited for the doctor to come in. By now the cramping had stopped and the bleeding was much lighter.
Dr. Sereque was the doctor on call from the practice. It turns out my mother vaguely remembered him from when she worked in a hospital. She said he was "overly nice." Well, there's definitely a time for the overly niceness. It's around 9:30 in the morning when he had to officially break the news to me. He said the ultrasound showed my uterus was empty, which meant I probably wouldn't need a DC. I passed one last huge clot during the pelvic exam (![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
emmy_roo, I want you to promise me something: when you graduate med school, you will invent the first ever padded heated speculum. You will make a fortune). Joe saw it hit the floor -- they couldn't catch it in time -- and almost lost it. They picked it up and put it in an emesis basin, I guess to send it off for analysis later. I never did see it. Joe said it was for the better. He thinks it was the baby, or what had developed of it. The exam showed my cervix had dilated but was closing. For all intents and purposes, I delivered.
Once the pelvic exam was over Dr. Sereque talked to us about what happened. He said most of the time no one really knows why early miscarriages happen, and most of the time it's nature's way of intervening in what would be a troubled pregnancy and/or malformed child. One third to one half of first pregnancies miscarry and since I didn't have any trouble conceiving there shouldn't be a problem in a future pregnancy. He admitted that wouldn't make us feel better right now, but it was something to look forward to. What would've been my first OB appointment was changed to a post miscarriage check up. He said he'd tell the office for me so I wouldn't have to make that call. Before he left he said he was very sorry for us, but reminded us long term outlook was good.
They held me for observation for about 2 hours to make sure my bleeding was appropriate and I wasn't passing anymore large clots, signs I would need the D&C after all. The nurse said the procedure isn't necessarily bad or risky, just more traumatic for me. I was given a shot of Rhogam since I'm O- and Joe has no clue what his blood type is. They said it's standard procedure. The entire time I just cried and cried. I apologized to Joe for losing the baby so close to his birthday (it's next Sunday) and he kept telling me it wasn't my fault, I didn't do anything to cause this, I couldn't help when I miscarried, and having me with him was all the birthday present he would need. Two babies were born while I was waiting to go home and I could hear them crying, which made me cry even harder.
At 11:20 they let me go with a long list of instructions and information. I'll probably bleed until my next period, which could take as long as 6 weeks to show up. I'm on strict pelvic rest at least until my check up. If I pass anymore large clots, start bleeding heavily, or have severe cramping again I might need the D&C after all, but all signs point to no as of now. And we can't try to get pregnant again for at least 3 months, which is fine with us. It's too soon. The nurse told us she was sorry and she hoped the next time she saw us there it was for happier reasons.
We grabbed a bite to eat in the hospital cafeteria. Joe was starving. I wasn't really hungry but he made me eat something. We went home and started making the calls. He called his father, who was devestated. I didn't speak to him, but Joe said his dad said he loves me very much and he's very sorry. He called his sister and had to leave a message on her machine, she wasn't home.
Joe then called Applebee's for me. He'd already called around 7 and told them I wouldn't be there that night, but he told them what happened and said I wouldn't be in for the next few days. Don caught the call and I'm glad. He told me earlier this week his first wife miscarried so I know he understood. He said take all the time I needed, just call when I was ready to come back. This was in stark contrast to the GM's response at 7, which was "Thanks for letting us know so we can get the shift covered," with no concern for my or the baby's well being. I will have to physically restrain Joe if they ever cross paths again. I don't really care. He's already proven himself to be a dick. And if he gives me grief for not having a doctor's note I'll call his boss on him. Yes, physically I'm cleared to work. Mentally and emotionally not so much. But I'm getting ahead of myself. A good sign, I guess. That much hasn't changed.
We called my parents but no one answered. It turned out my dad drove to the hospital at some point but didn't know where to find us. He called soon after we got home, asking if we were still there. He asked if I wanted some company, I said thank you but no, I wasn't up for it, and he said he loved me and he was so, so sorry I went through it.
I called Ryan. Joe had spoken to him earlier, asking if he could drive us home if I had the D&C (since I wouldn't be able to drive after anesthetic and Joe never has had a license), but his sister had his car and his parents were MIA wit theirs, so he knew what was going on. We talked for a little bit before he let me go. He said it sounded like I needed to get some rest. I did, I'd only gotten 2 hours of sleep before the shit hit the fan, but I wasn't tired.
Joe, on the other hand, had NO sleep at all and went to bed. He was just lying down when I told him I needed to go to the hospital. He asked me to lie down with him, maybe I would get some sleep too. He was just drifting off when there was a knock at the door. It was my mother. She'd been called into work when I called her earlier, and midway through her shift she felt guilty for not calling them back and telling them she couldn't do it. So she called her boss and told her she needed to leave and told her why (she hadn't told anyone at work I was pregnant yet -- she's not very sociable there). Her boss showed up in record time in uniform and told her to get out of there.
Mom drove straight from work to our place once my dad called and said we'd left the hospital. We went and sat in the car since Joe was sleeping (closed doors do nothing for noise reduction in our apartment) and she held me while I cried and told her in bits and pieces what happened. She told me she'd lost her first pregnancy (that I never knew of). She had a missed miscarriage. It implanted but never developed. It was 3 months before the doctors figured it out, and after her D&C they put her in a recovery room facing the nursery. She told me her mother also lost her first one. As it turns out the odds were not my favor on this one. She didn't not tell me on purpose, she just didn't think to tell me.
We drove around for a bit and she took me to Hardee's and got me a malted and an apple pie and fries (all I wanted) and took me to Wal Mart to buy some pads and a new bra and some Advil, since I can take it again and Tylenol (all I could take when I was pregnant) upsets my stomach. We just talked about whatever came to mind. She said she called my sister and sister-in-law (all communicating with the brother goes through her -- it's more peaceful that way) for me since she knew I wouldn't be up to it, and she'd tell the rest of the family for me as she saw them. I went home, Joe and I held each other and cried some more, then I finally went to sleep around 5.
We're slowly coming out of it. There are moments we can laugh at things. But there's so many little things that send one of us crying. Little endearments we'd already worked the baby into that we say without thinking. The realization he won't be talking to my stomach anytime soon. The baby books I checked out from the library sitting around the house. The booties I made for the pregnant girl at work whose baby shower is next Saturday. I wasn't planning on going before all this, but now I don't know if I'll be able to look at her without bursting into tears. I certainly can't look at the booties. Joe asked if I wanted to go to the yarn store to cheer me up, and I cried thinking of the baby yarn I wanted to buy that's of no use to me now. And then I cried thinking of the yarn Ryan's already bought for the baby blanket that was to be. I cried when I woke up this morning and Joe told me it was 5:30, around the time everything started yesterday. It's just going to take time. And I hate that.
Well, I guess I'm done. Joe requests I ask that no one use the phrase, "Smile, it can't be that bad" ever again, because he heard that all day yesterday.
I woke up and found I bled through the pantiliner I'd been wearing for the spotting and passed a clot. I tried to tell myself it was just from being on my feet all day and laid back down with my feet up, hoping that would stem the bleeding like it has in the past.
At 5:40 I passed another clot. I called my mother and told her I was on my way to the hospital. We drove to Labor and Delivery where I spent what I can honestly call the worst 5 hours of my life.
I started cramping on the drive over, but they were vaginal rather than abdominal so I kept hoping and hoping and hoping that at the end of the day it would be a big scare we could both laugh about 7 months from now. Joe told me later he was thought about talking to our child when it was older and saying, "We went through so much to get you here, but it was worth it."
We got there about 6. The admitting nurse was a bitch and I was very glad shift change was coming soon so I wouldn't have to deal with her much longer. She said I wasn't really bleeding that bad (I wasn't in terms of hemorrhaging, but I knew it wasn't good) and abandoned me after I she told me I'd have to wait until 9 to have an ultrasound on the good machine. Luckily the nurse that replaced her was so nice I don't even care about nurse #1. There wasn't anything that could've been done, anyway.
About 7ish I realized I'd bled through my stylish hospital gown. Joe ran down the hall and got the day nurse just as she was coming on. She checked me and told me it wasn't as bad as it looked, I wasn't hemorrhaging, and she gave me some washclothes to clean myself up with and got me a new gown and changed the sheets and padding on the exam table. While I was washing up I passed groups of clots. The cramping got worse, but never worse than the worst menstrual cramps I've had. I wasn't allowed to have anything for the pain on the chance I wasn't miscarrying. I wasn't allowed to eat or drink in case I was and needed a D&C. Joe and I kept crying off and on. We knew what was going on, but until someone said it we didn't want to believe it.
I was wheeled to ultrasound at 9. I went through the abdominal round alone because Joe had stepped out to call my parents to keep them updated and have a cigarette. The sonagrapher was very, very nice throughout the procedure and told me she'd lost her first pregnancy but went on to have two children, so no matter how it turned out I would most likely be okay. Joe caught up with me before they performed the vaginal ultrasound (somehow I knew he would) and held my hand and watched the screen. I could tell from his face it didn't look good. When we got home he admitted he knew from the ultrasound I'd miscarried because the sonagrapher only marked the uterus. The orderly wheeled me back to the exam room and Joe and I waited for the doctor to come in. By now the cramping had stopped and the bleeding was much lighter.
Dr. Sereque was the doctor on call from the practice. It turns out my mother vaguely remembered him from when she worked in a hospital. She said he was "overly nice." Well, there's definitely a time for the overly niceness. It's around 9:30 in the morning when he had to officially break the news to me. He said the ultrasound showed my uterus was empty, which meant I probably wouldn't need a DC. I passed one last huge clot during the pelvic exam (
emmy_roo, I want you to promise me something: when you graduate med school, you will invent the first ever padded heated speculum. You will make a fortune). Joe saw it hit the floor -- they couldn't catch it in time -- and almost lost it. They picked it up and put it in an emesis basin, I guess to send it off for analysis later. I never did see it. Joe said it was for the better. He thinks it was the baby, or what had developed of it. The exam showed my cervix had dilated but was closing. For all intents and purposes, I delivered.Once the pelvic exam was over Dr. Sereque talked to us about what happened. He said most of the time no one really knows why early miscarriages happen, and most of the time it's nature's way of intervening in what would be a troubled pregnancy and/or malformed child. One third to one half of first pregnancies miscarry and since I didn't have any trouble conceiving there shouldn't be a problem in a future pregnancy. He admitted that wouldn't make us feel better right now, but it was something to look forward to. What would've been my first OB appointment was changed to a post miscarriage check up. He said he'd tell the office for me so I wouldn't have to make that call. Before he left he said he was very sorry for us, but reminded us long term outlook was good.
They held me for observation for about 2 hours to make sure my bleeding was appropriate and I wasn't passing anymore large clots, signs I would need the D&C after all. The nurse said the procedure isn't necessarily bad or risky, just more traumatic for me. I was given a shot of Rhogam since I'm O- and Joe has no clue what his blood type is. They said it's standard procedure. The entire time I just cried and cried. I apologized to Joe for losing the baby so close to his birthday (it's next Sunday) and he kept telling me it wasn't my fault, I didn't do anything to cause this, I couldn't help when I miscarried, and having me with him was all the birthday present he would need. Two babies were born while I was waiting to go home and I could hear them crying, which made me cry even harder.
At 11:20 they let me go with a long list of instructions and information. I'll probably bleed until my next period, which could take as long as 6 weeks to show up. I'm on strict pelvic rest at least until my check up. If I pass anymore large clots, start bleeding heavily, or have severe cramping again I might need the D&C after all, but all signs point to no as of now. And we can't try to get pregnant again for at least 3 months, which is fine with us. It's too soon. The nurse told us she was sorry and she hoped the next time she saw us there it was for happier reasons.
We grabbed a bite to eat in the hospital cafeteria. Joe was starving. I wasn't really hungry but he made me eat something. We went home and started making the calls. He called his father, who was devestated. I didn't speak to him, but Joe said his dad said he loves me very much and he's very sorry. He called his sister and had to leave a message on her machine, she wasn't home.
Joe then called Applebee's for me. He'd already called around 7 and told them I wouldn't be there that night, but he told them what happened and said I wouldn't be in for the next few days. Don caught the call and I'm glad. He told me earlier this week his first wife miscarried so I know he understood. He said take all the time I needed, just call when I was ready to come back. This was in stark contrast to the GM's response at 7, which was "Thanks for letting us know so we can get the shift covered," with no concern for my or the baby's well being. I will have to physically restrain Joe if they ever cross paths again. I don't really care. He's already proven himself to be a dick. And if he gives me grief for not having a doctor's note I'll call his boss on him. Yes, physically I'm cleared to work. Mentally and emotionally not so much. But I'm getting ahead of myself. A good sign, I guess. That much hasn't changed.
We called my parents but no one answered. It turned out my dad drove to the hospital at some point but didn't know where to find us. He called soon after we got home, asking if we were still there. He asked if I wanted some company, I said thank you but no, I wasn't up for it, and he said he loved me and he was so, so sorry I went through it.
I called Ryan. Joe had spoken to him earlier, asking if he could drive us home if I had the D&C (since I wouldn't be able to drive after anesthetic and Joe never has had a license), but his sister had his car and his parents were MIA wit theirs, so he knew what was going on. We talked for a little bit before he let me go. He said it sounded like I needed to get some rest. I did, I'd only gotten 2 hours of sleep before the shit hit the fan, but I wasn't tired.
Joe, on the other hand, had NO sleep at all and went to bed. He was just lying down when I told him I needed to go to the hospital. He asked me to lie down with him, maybe I would get some sleep too. He was just drifting off when there was a knock at the door. It was my mother. She'd been called into work when I called her earlier, and midway through her shift she felt guilty for not calling them back and telling them she couldn't do it. So she called her boss and told her she needed to leave and told her why (she hadn't told anyone at work I was pregnant yet -- she's not very sociable there). Her boss showed up in record time in uniform and told her to get out of there.
Mom drove straight from work to our place once my dad called and said we'd left the hospital. We went and sat in the car since Joe was sleeping (closed doors do nothing for noise reduction in our apartment) and she held me while I cried and told her in bits and pieces what happened. She told me she'd lost her first pregnancy (that I never knew of). She had a missed miscarriage. It implanted but never developed. It was 3 months before the doctors figured it out, and after her D&C they put her in a recovery room facing the nursery. She told me her mother also lost her first one. As it turns out the odds were not my favor on this one. She didn't not tell me on purpose, she just didn't think to tell me.
We drove around for a bit and she took me to Hardee's and got me a malted and an apple pie and fries (all I wanted) and took me to Wal Mart to buy some pads and a new bra and some Advil, since I can take it again and Tylenol (all I could take when I was pregnant) upsets my stomach. We just talked about whatever came to mind. She said she called my sister and sister-in-law (all communicating with the brother goes through her -- it's more peaceful that way) for me since she knew I wouldn't be up to it, and she'd tell the rest of the family for me as she saw them. I went home, Joe and I held each other and cried some more, then I finally went to sleep around 5.
We're slowly coming out of it. There are moments we can laugh at things. But there's so many little things that send one of us crying. Little endearments we'd already worked the baby into that we say without thinking. The realization he won't be talking to my stomach anytime soon. The baby books I checked out from the library sitting around the house. The booties I made for the pregnant girl at work whose baby shower is next Saturday. I wasn't planning on going before all this, but now I don't know if I'll be able to look at her without bursting into tears. I certainly can't look at the booties. Joe asked if I wanted to go to the yarn store to cheer me up, and I cried thinking of the baby yarn I wanted to buy that's of no use to me now. And then I cried thinking of the yarn Ryan's already bought for the baby blanket that was to be. I cried when I woke up this morning and Joe told me it was 5:30, around the time everything started yesterday. It's just going to take time. And I hate that.
Well, I guess I'm done. Joe requests I ask that no one use the phrase, "Smile, it can't be that bad" ever again, because he heard that all day yesterday.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2006-07-30 03:17 pm (UTC)People actually said that? Yeesh. :headdesk:
I'm sorry you're going through this. Your story made me cry. To Joe you listen--it isn't your fault.
*BIG HUGS* to both of you.
no subject
Date: 2006-07-30 06:00 pm (UTC)Ugh...people can be so insensitive. It's annoying enough when perfect strangers tell you, "Smile!" when you're not going through something traumatic. But when you are...jeez, do people lose their mental faculties or something?
I know that "I'm sorry" is wholly inadequate.
no subject
Date: 2006-07-30 07:32 pm (UTC)Take care of yourself, Hon.
no subject
Date: 2006-07-30 08:52 pm (UTC)I know this is hard but you sound like you're facing it well and being strong. You've heard this before, but one of our close friends miscarried a year ago last spring at three months. In June she was pregnant again and now has a healthy baby boy. I have a good feeling about you and that you'll be okay too.
no subject
Date: 2006-07-30 09:48 pm (UTC)*hugs*
no subject
Date: 2006-07-31 02:31 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-07-31 07:28 pm (UTC)You both continue to be in my prayers. And I promise you, I will be the doctor that people write about in their journals as "the nice doctor that made all the other doctors unimportant."
no subject
Date: 2006-08-01 01:16 am (UTC)