Our Losses Continued - My D&C

Tuesday April 7th – (10 days exactly before my thirtieth birthday). It was simply a surreal day. I worked a bunch….I showered…...spent time with L. Before we left the house, I started to panic. I didn’t want to leave L. I was afraid that something would happen to me. I asked her to pray for me thinking she would pray with my sister when I left, but no not this child. She grabbed my face and closed her eyes and prayed that mommy would be safe and that Jesus would let the baby come back for her birthday. Before that she had been praying for a pool for her birthday. She hasn’t asked for a pool once since then, she asks for the baby to come back. It just breaks my heart. I want more than anything to give her a sibling; preferably a sister for her and son for my husband. But me, all I want is a healthy baby.

I had insisted that the Doctor do another ultrasound prior to the procedure and that had to be done in the doctor’s office while the procedure was being done in the hospital. Consequently, we had to go back to the place I have decided I now hate, because that is where I found out my baby had died. We got there about 2pm and they actually got us in about 10 min later. A record for my doctor’s office.

Of course all the staff was giving me the sad face. Elsie the forever nurse hugged me. The new young one couldn’t look me in the eye, she won’t last. We went in the room trying to pretend that everything was normal, but it wasn’t. I had started having cramping earlier in the day and they were getting worse as I was sitting there. Part of me was still hoping, unrealistically I know, that there would be a heart beat that day. There wasn’t. The doctor was very nice, he didn’t act like I was crazy at all for wanting him to check again. He gave me ultrasound pictures, which I am not sure I even want. And told us once again there was no heart beat.

It all just hurt so much. I never imagined this happening to me. I am healthy, I am fairly young, so is my husband. We already had one child. What could be wrong with me to make me lose this one? What did I do to deserve this? Why? Why was I able to get pregnant after two years to lose my baby?

After we left the doctors office we went to the hospital. We had to go through admitting and sign paperwork and pay a HUGE co-pay. When we got back to the day-surgery check in, I am sure everyone could tell I had been crying and the guy behind the counter kept giving me sad faces. When we got to the back, I had to undress and put on the oh so fashionable hospital gown, missing half the ties. Anyone want to see my naked rear-end? For some reason I was really concerned I would have to remove my socks, but the nurse let me keep them on. She took about a million vials of blood, for what? I never did find out.

M and I managed to joke some, but if it got silent I started to cry so I read my book. But in the Epilogue the stupid woman got pregnant and had a healthy baby girl. Of course, the tears came back. I started to get really scared before I went back. We called the house, but L was still napping. I had just wanted to tell her I loved her one more time.

The anesthesiologist came and put something in my IV, my husband kissed me and told me he loved me. I asked him to call my sister and have her call everyone and ask them to pray. I remember being wheeled into another room and them asking me to move to the bed next to me. As I was lying down they started to put a mask on my face. I don’t remember anything after that.

When I was waking up, I kept asking the nurses what it was, a boy or a girl. I dreamt while I was out that it was a boy. Obviously, they didn’t know.

I was ok in the recovery room. My nurse was sweet. Oddly, she was 20 weeks pregnant, but before she got pregnant she had a miscarriage at 8 weeks. We talked about miscarriages and other stuff. There was no room in the next room I was supposed to go to so they gave me a hospital room on another floor. My husband met us up there. It was just a very surreal experience. I had a lot of pain meds in me and was mostly numb.

When we got home it was late, after 11 I think. My sister and her boyfriend had taken care of L for us, so they were still at the house. I was standing in the living room and just broke down. My sister’s BF hugged me. Earlier when he had got to the house to watch L he brought me L’s and my favorite candy. My sister hugged me and asked if there was anything she could do. Finally, they left.

I went upstairs and worked for a little while before I went to bed. I think I was so afraid of my feelings it was the only way to block them. I don’t know. I went to bed mostly numb thinking I had closure that I would begin to be able to move on. I was so incredibly wrong.

When does the pain get better?

(The first two weeks after D&C)
I thought the D&C would provide closure. It did that night while I was still all drugged up, but the next day I was a wreck. There was not closure, not for me. It just hurt so damn bad. Why did this have to happen?

The days following were horrible. Not physically, but emotionally. I was taking the pain killers the doctor gave. I wanted…….I needed to be numb. But they only help so much.

Everyone wanted to help, but what can they do? Wednesday (day after D&C) my mom and her best friend (my other mother) wanted to bring lunch. I thought I would be up for that. But my mom also in invited my brother who brought my 6 mo old nephew. It was not what I needed. They were all just so normal. Their intentions were good, but I just wanted to scream “How can you be so happy, when I am literally falling apart?”

I hate when people hug me and tell me they are sorry. They probably really truly are, but it just feels fake. I want to scream at them “you don’t understand, my baby is dead.” But I don’t. I don’t ever say what I am thinking. I just keep acting like everything is ok, but inside I feel like I am dieing.

Its funny, the only person aside from my husband that I am comfortable around right now, is my youngest sister. She is very laid back and doesn’t try to fix. She doesn’t say stupid things like “well, at least now you know you can get pregnant.” She doesn’t change the subject when I talk about what I am going through. I know she is a little uncomfortable, but she just listens.

(The two week mark)
Some days I am so angry I can barely see. Others I just cry. And more and more lately I have been OK. Which in turn makes me feel guilty. How can I be OK when my baby is dead? Does that mean this baby didn’t mean enough to me? I know it is illogical, but on the best days the guilt is still there.

I was really angry at God. I wondered why he would do this to me? Why he would let me finally get pregnant, when I had worked through all the emotions of not being able to get pregnant, and then allow my baby to be taken away? I was so angry I couldn’t pray. For me that was huge. I am one of those people who prays all the time. In the car, in the shower, whenever something pops into my head, good or bad, I pray about it and I couldn’t pray. I felt lost and broken. And I hurt more than words can say and my normal source of comfort wasn’t there. Who can you be angry at? Its not your husbands fault, or the doctor, or the dogs for that matter. There is no one to blame. So, I blamed God.

My turning point finally came on one of my worst days. I came across the blog of another mother. Her story broke my heart. What she has been through is so much more than I could ever handle. And yet she turned to the Lord. She praises God. At one point she says “God is so good. We tend to get angry at God when we do not get our way with things, or when you pray about something and God does not answer your prayer. But God ALWAYS answers prayers...it just may not be the way you wanted Him to.” How can a woman who went through what this woman did feel this way? Because she turned to him in her time of need and not away. I, for a time, turned away. Her loss, showed me the way back. I thank the Lord everyday that she chose to share her story with world, because if she hadn’t I don’t know where I would be.

As I am writing this it has been two weeks to the day since the doctor took my baby from my body. I still have bad days. I still cry. I am crying as I write this, but I am moving forward. I don’t know what the future holds. But I know in the long run, I will be OK. I will forever love and think about my angel baby. I won’t ever be the same. But maybe I will be a better version of me. I find I cry easier and care more about strangers and those around me alike. And that’s in just two weeks.

I want to try again, but I am terrified that I will lose another one. I am not sure I could handle that. But I would have told you before this loss that I couldn’t handle losing one and I am working through it. I still ask why. I still cry. I still have bad days. Sometimes I am even still very angry. I still hurt. Hopefully, the doctor will have some answers for me in the why area. But I am learning to live with the hurt, the anger and the tears and appreciate the incredible blessings in my life even more.

God has a plan for my life. Even if I can’t see it right now. Its there. As much as I hated people telling me that, they are right. It reminds me of a song that I knew when I was a kid. The chorus and my favorite verse are;

God has a plan for my life,
I just can’t wait to see what’s in store for me,
Because God has a plan for my life

It won’t all be easy
But God will understand
Through all the hard times
He will be there to hold my hand
He knows just how special
I will turn out to be
Because God has a plan for my life

I have to trust that God knows what he is doing. That trust and that faith give me peace and have allowed me to begin to heal.

There are other things that have helped. The grief and loss board on WTE. Not the board itself, but the incredible community of women who are on there supporting each other. I wish none of them had ever had these experiences, but I am glad that that since they did they are willing to share. Ultimately I will be ok.