It took a long time to get here, and I am not just talking about the 2 and a half week wait for this appointment. I am talking about the over ten years we have waited to have a beautiful, healthy baby.
I worked from home this day, so that I could prepare for whatever it was that we would find out. Jon got off early from work and we made our way to the OBGYN’s office. The wait was long, or at least it seemed that way. Once we finally got to see the Doctor I explained my nervousness, hoping we could skip the pleasantries and get on with the ultrasound. Luckily she didn’t make us wait. There was a tiny bit of hope left in me that was instantly crushed as I looked at the monitor. There was nothing, no baby just a larger empty sac. I said to Jon, there is nothing and she moved the monitor so he could see. She looked for a long time, I think hoping that the baby was somewhere. I lost it, Jon stayed strong for me in the moment, but I could see the glazed look in his eyes, he was just as crushed as I was. This OBGYN was different than the first, much better bedside manner than the last. I immediately started asking questions, what did this mean? What were our options?
By now my gestational sac measured at 3.2, it was previously 1.6. By 2.5 you should be able to see an embryo. We were well over that. But there was a baby, our baby, a fertilized egg that never made it to an embryo, as something went terribly wrong. Nothing we did caused this or could have prevented this, but that does not make the loss any easier. A miscarriage was inevitable that was a fact. If there was any chance, any chance at all, we would have held out hope but there was no chance. Our baby was gone.
We were given three choices, allow the miscarriage to happen naturally, bring on the miscarriage via medication or have a D & C. I asked questions about all three. I asked if any was higher or lower risk than the other, and what each entailed. I pretty much knew before going in there, what I wanted to do. While allowing the miscarriage to happen naturally would seem like the ideal option, it just wasn’t. In three short weeks I would be travelling to Ohio (a non-refundable trip) and I work full time. The last thing I could handle through this already extremely difficult situation was having this miscarriage while I was at work, on an airplane or in Ohio. I just couldn’t. The other option, a D and C was not something I wanted to do. I have never had a surgery and I have never been put under. It seemed like a very invasive, intrusive procedure that I was terrified to have. That was out. The last and final option was the medication. This option, while again extremely difficult, but was the only option that guaranteed Jon and I the ability to deal with this loss in the privacy of our home and at a time that would be right for us. I struggled with this, which I will write more about in another post.
I was given the prescription and told I could go after seeing the nurse on the way out. I was dying inside and I just wanted to leave. We still had to wait the agonizing 10 minutes or so for our prescription to be filled. We sat there as I cried around all of these other people waiting for their prescriptions, it was horrible. Luckily a very nice pharmacy tech that saw the condition I was in and called me to the front, allowing me to skip the line of about five or so people and pay for my medication.
Then we had to stop at CVS, I needed “maxi-pads” for the miscarriage and after effects. I had none at home. After 30 minutes, we were finally home, crushed and broken. Only after we got home did Jon break down. He held it together, to make sure I was okay. I am so blessed to have him.
We sat there on the sofa, holding each other, crying inconsolably for the rest of the night knowing that our beautiful baby was in heaven and the next day would be the end of miracle pregnancy.