The Aftermath

The D and C was last Thursday, but I couldn’t bring myself to talk about it until now.

When we had our last ultrasound, the RE had told us that he would take care of scheduling the D and C with my OB/GYN, and call to let us know when it would be.  Very sweet of him to offer, except for the lack of follow through.  So after waiting two days to hear from him, I called the OB myself.  They hadn’t heard anything about it.  The nurse was very sweet, and said she was sorry, and I lost it.  It was kind of the first time I had really cried since finding out.  I guess it felt really real at that moment.  They were able to squeeze me in for the following day, however, and for that I am super grateful.

I was told to go in at 9:15 to check into the hospital, on strict orders to have nothing to eat or drink for 12 hours before.  I didn’t even know what all a D and C involved, so I was freaking out that those orders meant they must be putting me under.  I’ve never had anesthesia before, ever, and I had never been in the hospital except for the HSG.

The morning of the surgery, though, my doctor’s office called because they still hadn’t gotten any records from the RE.  I needed to go in early to explain the situation to the doctor  before he would feel comfortable doing the procedure.  I appreciate their caution, but talk about painful…

I love my OB.  He said he had heard that I was pregnant, and was so happy for us, and so sorry to hear about the miscarriage.  He tried to comfort me, and walked us through everything that had happened, and said that from what we told him he felt comfortable going ahead with the procedure.  He didn’t think he was going to be able to fit me in until that afternoon, but the surgery folks called upstairs and let us know that we could go down and have it done right then.

We had to rush downstairs, got rushed through check-in (and sent back to surgery with the wrong papers), and stripped and in a bed before I knew it.  They had one nurse inserting the IV (OUCH!!), another asking me a bunch of questions, and the anesthesiologist asking me questions all at the same time.  And I had a migraine to boot.  The nurses were all very kind, and apologetic, but kept asking me how far along I had been.  When they wheeled me back, I remember the anesthesiologist saying that the next time I saw him, I’d be yelling for an epidural.  I hope he’s right.

The surgery was over before I knew I was asleep.  I didn’t have any pain, except emotionally, and I appreciated the nurse telling me to take care of myself emotionally because of the loss we’d experienced (and giving me Morphine for my migraine).  Saturday, we were hosting our friend’s bridal shower/bachelorette party (the timing could not have been worse, but the invitations had gone out and they didn’t have RSVPs).  We had our best friend tell the masses (who hadn’t even known we were pregnant) so that at least they wouldn’t say or ask something stupid when they were over.

I think that day was the hardest.  Seeing how happy our friend was, and hearing her sister complain about her THREE kids.  It’s not fair.  I lost it a couple of times… we ended up joining the group for wine tasting to appease the bride, and the worst was the first sip of wine.  I so badly want to not be able to drink.  To have that amazing reason that I can’t.  It seems ridiculous that that was when I broke-down, but it was just another moment that it became so real.  I wasn’t pregnant anymore.

At school, I haven’t told anyone, because how do you bring it up?  “So, by the way…”  Not so much.  I had to tell professors and my cohort that I was having surgery, but no one asked why.  I wanted them to.  Mostly so that people would be understanding, and take care in their words.  I have heard way too many conversations about kids, and peoples’ plans for kids (they’ll be having this many at this time, etc, etc.), and about one girl’s pregnancy.

I’m at a loss.  We thought that finally, our dreams were coming true.  And now we’re back at square one, once again, not knowing when, if ever, it might be.  We want to try again as soon as we can.  I don’t know if it’s even possible, but I think we are even more positive that we are ready.  And just waiting.



This week has been the worst.

Monday we went in for our second ultrasound, to check back in and see if Poppy had caught up growth-wise.

There was no heartbeat.

The subchorionic bleed had almost doubled in size – 44mm x 38mm x 11mm.

The doctor said the embryo measured at 6 weeks 6 days, so that was when it had stopped growing. Last Thursday. The same day I decided I was going to start thinking positive, and being confident, and started telling people we were pregnant.

Last Thursday. When I had no idea that my baby, my very first pregnancy after so much heartache, was leaving us.

Last Thursday. When I had no idea that a week later I would be having a D and C – tomorrow.

When we were at the doctor’s office, I couldn’t even process. Michelle was a wreck, and I was just in shock. He tried to tell us that it was a good sign that we had gotten pregnant at all, and that we could try the same regimen in September. But, I’m sorry, I don’t buy that it’s a “good sign”, when it took over a year to get pregnant at all, and it didn’t work out.

He also gave me the options: wait for my body to realize the baby had stopped growing and to naturally expel it, take a drug to make it happen, or the D and C. When he started talking about prescribing Vicodin with the other drug, I immediately scratched that one off of the list. And natural could take three to four weeks! A lifetime of knowing what was inside of me and waiting at every turn for the blood. So I’ve opted for the D and C.

It’s been a rough week. It’ll hit me at the most random moments, like realizing I could have a cup of coffee, or drink at our friend’s bachelorette party this weekend.

I feel heartbroken; I thought we were there, that this was it. I’m also incredibly angry. Like, what the hell universe for dealing out hands of infertility and miscarriage both. And I looked up the odds today. One study had the odds of miscarriage after 6 weeks and with a heartbeat at less than 5 percent. Five percent!

It’s so incredibly cruel and unfair.

The First Look

This morning we had our first ultrasound. I was so nervous, I was shaking like a leaf! We knew we’d be able to get some answers regarding the bleeding last week (and the spotting that has continued since), and I was feeling cautiously optimistic at best.

The doctor did find a heartbeat, however he said it was a little lower than he’d like to see. The heartbeat was 102. The size of the embryo was a little small too, measuring 4.7 cm. He said both measured at about 6 weeks 1 day, and we’re at 6 weeks 3 days. I guess if we had been a little unsure of when we got pregnant everything would be looking fine, but with the trigger shot, we know exactly. Our little Poppy may not be developing properly.

He also found a subchorionic hematoma, the cause of my bleeding last week. Apparently not as worrisome as the size of the embryo, though, and he said it should resolve itself in the next few months, but I should expect some bleeding to continue. The thing was bigger than the pregnancy sac! It was scary looking on the screen, but I know it’s only like two centimeters or something really.

So, we’re still in no man’s land.. No closer to knowing if this pregnancy is going to stick. The doctor said he thought we were in the 50 to 75 percent range that it would go on to be a successful pregnancy. Well, he said definitely 50/50, but less than 75. Instills confidence, right? Somehow, I guess I had thought getting pregnant was like the finish line, but I think the hurdles are just beginning.

We go back next Monday for another ultrasound. The embryo should have doubled in size by then, and the heartbeat should be over 130 then too. And so we wait.


Seeing red

A few days ago we called our RE and requested a third HCG blood test, just to alleviate our fears.  They kind of chuckled at how nervous and silly (to them) we were being, but went ahead and scheduled us for a blood draw yesterday.  I went in, they took my blood, and I stopped in the bathroom on my way out. And saw my greatest fear realized – blood was on the toilet paper.  I started shaking, and crying, and tried to pull it together to leave the building.  Then I realized it was stupid to be AT the doctor’s office and not go back in to talk to them, so I turned around, went back, and tried to discreetly (other people were in the waiting room) ask to see a nurse.

The nurse came in and I told her I had just been in the bathroom and saw blood.  She started to tell me that was normal with IUI, but when I corrected her (we didn’t do IUI this cycle), she left and sent the head nurse in.  Megan, the head nurse, said about 75% of their patients see some blood early in their pregnancy, and they would know more after they got my blood results back.  Thank god I insisted on getting them!  She also added a progesterone test.

I went to run a couple of errands, trying to keep busy, and making bathroom stops every few minutes to check on things.  It wasn’t letting up.  In fact, I was seeing enough blood that I had to go buy pads.  Meanwhile, I’m hysterical, and trying to fill Michelle in, but also not wanting to talk about it, and I had to go back to school for my afternoon class.  When I stopped in the bathroom at school to check again, I had an actual stream of bright red blood that flowed into the toilet.  After the second time that happened, I called the RE’s office again.

Megan told me to be on bed rest for the afternoon/evening (which wasn’t going to be possible until later), and to hang in until we knew more from the blood test results.  Picture me, again, bawling and having to pull it together to go back into my class.

Finally I got the call with the results.  HCG was 14,020 and progesterone was 38.  She said both numbers were great, and she didn’t see a need to give me a progesterone supplement, since it looked like my body was making it fine on its own.  By our count, our numbers should have been about 10,000 by the doubling every two days rule.  So, 14,000 seems fantastic!  So why all the blood?!

She said we just have to wait and see.  Our ultrasound is scheduled for Tuesday, and she doesn’t want to move it any sooner because it may just worry us more if we don’t hear the heartbeat, and it would be too early for that.  I asked if it could be that I was carrying multiples and lost one.  She said she wouldn’t count it out, but we really won’t know until Tuesday.

So, I’m at home, laying around, trying to take it easy on “bed rest”.  The bleeding slowed last night, and has completely disappeared today.  Nothing but a little residual.  So what the heck!?  I just want to know that Poppy (our nickname for our little poppyseed) is still in there and is okay.  I’ve been researching the heck out of it, and Michelle has too, but there’s so much variation out there.  I’ve only been pregnant for a week and a half (that I’ve known)… it just can’t be over.