Wow, how much things can change in a week. At this time last week, I was sick, tired, and going about my day, as I had for the last three months...I was pregnant. I had reached the 14-week mark, which is what some consider the start of the 2nd trimester; others think it starts at 12 or 13 weeks, but regardless...I made it to the "safe zone," the "honeymoon trimester." This was the day that coincided with my first pregnancy loss, when I went in at 14 weeks and found my baby had died two weeks earlier. If I could just make it through the day, I was ready to start relaxing and finally being able to enjoy the pregnancy. I listened to the heartbeat before I went to bed, as I did every night, and was content that things were going to be okay. I went to sleep, ready to wake up and really start BEING pregnant. I've made it! I can start enjoying it now...I am really going to have and hold my baby!
But then...I woke up the next morning and reached for the doppler. There was nothing. I tried for an hour to find the heartbeat, but couldn't find anything. I tried to convince myself that he was just in there hiding since he had so much space to move. Everything would be okay. Don't panic. This COULD NOT, WOULD NOT be happening again. Not this far along. I had completed all my testing that came back normal. The baby was measuring fine at every sonogram...and there had been plenty. We were safe now. Calm down. I tried throughout the day, and still nothing. I went to bed, still almost positive that it would be okay. I would not be in that less than 1% yet AGAIN...IMPOSSIBLE! I would wake up tomorrow, find the heartbeat, and laugh at myself for worrying so.
I woke up the next morning, drank a cup of OJ, and was sure I would hear the heartbeat galloping away. All this worry would be for nothing and I could take a deep breath and relax. This little booger was just stubborn like the rest of us, that's all. I started looking for the heartbeat and my stomach was so tender from trying so hard the day before, literally bruised. Again...there was nothing. I called the doctor, figuring with my past history that they would bring me in and set my mind at ease with a sonogram. Instead, they told me to quit using the doppler and relax. Stressing out was doing more harm than good. I explained that I had heard the heartbeat every day, without fail, since I was 9 weeks...but the nurse kept pushing it on me that it is hard to find at such an early stage and I was probably hearing my own. No, my heart does not beat at 170 bpm...I know what I was hearing, and the fact that I heard it EVERY DAY and now nothing for two days in a row should raise at least a small flag. But no...
I tried to relax, but I couldn't. Nor could I put the doppler away. I called back and asked them again if I could just come in. I was in a panic and I was scared that my anxiety would cause even more problems, but again, I felt almost belittled...like I was being stupid. I broke down, crying, and tried to explain how I have been through this before and this has been a three-year journey to get here, two miscarriages along the way, I was terrified...but still, nothing. I decided to call my fertility doctor because she had always been so supportive and knew my history. They actually were CARING people and maybe they would be a second opinion that would set my mind at ease...plus, I just trusted them. I was growing more and more sure that my doctor was pretty much incompetent. I should have went with my gut in dealing with her weeks ago, but I didn't. The fertility office told me that they WERE concerned that I wasn't finding the heartbeat and couldn't understand why my doctor wouldn't be!?! They recommended I go to the ER. Not what I wanted to hear. I was expecting them to agree and say, "Oh yes...it happens. I wouldn't worry." I called my doctor's office back ONE MORE TIME and told them that if they would not see me then my previous doctor, who was aware of my history, had suggested I go to the ER immediately. The doctor called me back and was very rude, asking why I was even listening to the heartbeat every day...that that only causes more stress than good because when you can't find it, you panic. I tried to explain my fears, my losses, etc., but she obviously doesn't have kids and just does not understand anything but a textbook diagnosis and medical care. No empathy, no caring, no humane response whatsoever. She said that she would basically put herself out, go out of her way, and stay after her last patient so that I could come in. This would be the only time she would do this, and after the sonogram, she wanted me to put the doppler away. Huff* huff*.
Luckily, Doug was on his way home and was able to meet me up there. I cannot imagine had I had to go it alone. I went inside and felt so stupid. I know the nurses and doctor were rolling their eyes behind my back...just another panicking pregnant woman that won't listen. We waited in the room for what seemed like forever. I was hot, hungry and weak from not eating, nauseous, and pretty sure I was going to pass out at any moment from it all. She finally came in and had the screen turned away from me. She zeroed in on a heartbeat. I assured her that it was mine...not the baby's. She said it may have been mine. Yeah, idiot...it was mine. Unlike you, I am perfectly aware of what my baby's heartbeat sounds like. She pressed and prodded...not saying a word to me for another five minutes. I tried to get things out of her, but she wouldn't say anything. She finally took the wand off my belly and said that she was sending me to Radiology for confirmation. Ummmm...what? "So, there is no heartbeat? The baby isn't moving?" Her response..."Unfortunately...not at this time. No." Are you freaking kidding me? If I hadn't been so in shock and about to pass out, I would have strangled her. I just wanted to scream..."Don't freakin' worry, huh?"
We went to the hospital and had to go through an hour of BS to get back to see the Radiologist. When we finally did, it was confirmed...the baby was gone. No heartbeat. Once again, with no explanation....I have lost another baby. I went back to my doctor's office and was told I would be induced to deliver the next day. That was pretty much the gist of it. Since the baby was dead, I could have any pain medication I needed because they didn't have to worry about harming the baby now. See you at 6:30 a.m. in Labor and Delivery...(you know, the place where everyone else will be coming to have their babies and leave with them ALIVE, in their arms).
I just can't believe this is happening. How does this happen? How DID this happen? How can I keep falling into the "it almost never happens" category, and each time it is seemingly unrelated to the last? I have had every possible blood test, clotting test, exam, x-ray, you name it...nothing has shown even a hint that something may be wrong. The fact that my body was not miscarrying is testament that my body is doing it's job...even after my sweet baby was gone, it wasn't giving up trying to maintain the pregnancy. I just hope, if there is any form of justice, Divine Intervention, or whatever the hell you want to call it...I will, at least, have an answer. At LEAST afford me that. I am not a bad person. I cannot imagine what I have done to deserve this AGAIN.
No one will ever understand the pain of giving birth when your body is not ready, having your body medically forced to birth a baby when it is not ready, and having to go through not only the physical pain, but the absolute torment of what we saw and lived through, unless they have been there. Believe me. To see our little one so fragile and limp, almost the size of a Barbie doll, so perfectly formed with everything in place, only imagining what he would have become in just a few more months...I just can't stand it. Please...just give me an answer. Don't leave me with endless questions and no closure, again. In a way, I am glad for the pain that I am in, the contractions that won't stop, because it helps me focus on the pain and not the reality, as much. I dread when the physical pain goes away, actually. The weakness has subsided a little and I can be active for a few minutes before I have to sit down, winded and dizzy, so I assume in a week or so, I will be able to function again. I almost don't want to get to that point. I don't want to feel normal because how DO I go back to normal after all this? Obviously, with the way my normal is going, I don't want to be normal again, period.
Oh yeah, and how could I forget...I just looked at the calendar and realized yesterday marked the one-year anniversary of losing my little girl last year. I'm so exhausted and tired...that's all I can say. We will never forget you, my little babies.