Category: loss

I had my D&C yesterday.

After finding out last week that our baby had stopped developing a week prior and had no heartbeat, we were given three options: wait for miscarriage to happen naturally, take a pill to induce miscarriage, or go in for a dilation and curettage (D&C). I immediately ruled out the pill-induced miscarriage, as I have heard that it’s pretty intense and painful, and people sometimes end up not passing everything and needing an emergency D&C, anyway. My doctor recommended waiting to see if my body would miscarry naturally which she said could happen in a few days or a few weeks. The D&C was definitely an option, too, but carries a small risk of creating scar tissue, which is the only reason she recommended waiting it out first. She told us to go home and think it over. By the end of the day I had decided that I would give my body one week to do its thing. If I didn’t miscarry on my own by the following Monday, I would go in for a D&C. I just couldn’t wait forever and needed to begin to move on so I could heal emotionally and physically.

All last week, I had no signs of miscarrying on my own. No cramping, no bleeding, and I was still having many of my pregnancy symptoms, which were painful reminders of the baby that would never be. To be honest, I was relieved when yesterday’s appointment arrived.

The procedure itself was very easy, all things considered. We got to the hospital around 6 a.m. and were the first ones in the operating room at 7:30. I drifted off to sleep easily and woke up from surgery around 8 a.m., feeling no pain. Realizing it was truly over, though, I immediately began sobbing uncontrollably. It was an incredibly emotional experience, but at the same time, it came with a sense of healing – not unlike the intense mourning and closure you feel at a funeral. Physically, I feel fine now. A little tired and crampy, but not any worse than normal period cramps. I’m bleeding some, but not as much as I expected. I took yesterday and today off from work to give myself some time to recover physically and emotionally, but I anticipate being able to return tomorrow with no problems.

At this point, I’m looking forward to moving on. The doctor gave us the clear to begin trying again after my period resumes, which should be 4 or 5 weeks from now. I started taking my temperature again this morning to track ovulation, since we’ll need to avoid conceiving this cycle. My temperature was 98.13, which is still on the high side, which means my progesterone is probably still elevated. I’m honestly looking forward to feeling non-pregnant again, which I hope will also help with the process of moving on. As of now, I still get nauseated from time to time, my boobs are still sore, and I’m still waking up multiple times per night to pee. It’s recommended to track the decline of your hormones via pregnancy tests, but I think I’ll hold off on checking one for at least a couple weeks. I think seeing a positive pregnancy test would be too emotional at this point. I’d much rather the next time I see a positive pregnancy test to be because of a baby I’m going to have, not one I lost.

As much as I am trying to look forward to moving on, I know the baby we lost will always be a part of us. Since we got married, D and I have kept a tradition, where each Christmas we get an ornament to commemorate something that most defined that year (our wedding, adopting our dog, buying our house, etc.) I came across this ornament the other day, and ordered it right away, as it’s so fitting. As much as I hate that this tragedy is the biggest event of our year, I do want to always remember our first baby, as he/she will forever be a part of us. I just hope next year’s ornament is to commemorate our first take home baby.

Today a coworker told me that he and his wife are expecting a baby just 5 days after what was supposed to be our due date and it took everything in me to smile and say congratulations, while I felt like bursting into tears.

You see, we had our ultrasound on Monday and it didn’t go well.

After spending nearly an hour with the nurse practitioner doing a basic pelvic exam, going over family history and answering basic questions, we finally got to go to the ultrasound room where we were supposed to get to see our baby and hear the heartbeat. I remember the nurse practitioner congratulating us as she handed us off to the doctor and D saying something to me about how they should wait until after the ultrasound to congratulate us so we know everything is fine. I know he was joking (he does this when he’s nervous or uncomfortable), and I told him to shut up (playfully), as I was already nervous enough. But to make myself feel better, I reminded him that during the pelvic exam, the NP had commented on how I definitely felt like I had an “8-week uterus.”

The doctor came in and began the internal ultrasound, and right away I knew something was wrong, by the way she was frowning and staring at the screen. Finally, she told us it didn’t look like a viable pregnancy, but that she wanted to send us down to the actual ultrasound lab, as their equipment is more precise. As soon as she left the room, I burst into tears. It was the worst feeling.

We had to wait about 45 minutes to get into the ultrasound lab, so D and I went down to Starbucks since I needed to have a full bladder, anyway. I swear, there were babies and strollers everywhere, which was too much to take. I was starting to tear up again, so we decided to just go wait it out in the ultrasound waiting room… which, of course, was full of pregnant, happy couples. It was just miserable. Finally, we were called back, where they did both an external and an internal ultrasound, and the radiologist confirmed what my doctor had suspected. While the sac and my uterus were both measuring right on track at 8 weeks, the baby appeared to have stopped developing about a week prior, and there was no heartbeat. They also said there was some bleeding within the sac.

So then, we had to go back up to the doctor’s office to discuss next steps. She reassured us it was nothing we did or could have prevented, but that it was likely a chromosomal abnormality or other defect, and that it was essentially nature’s way of stopping something that wasn’t viable. She outlined our options (wait for miscarriage to happen naturally, take a pill to induce miscarriage, or schedule a dilation & curettage), discussed the pros and cons to each, and told us to go home and think about it. As of now, I have a D&C scheduled for next Monday, unless I miscarry naturally on my own before then.

This is truly the most emotionally painful thing I’ve ever been through, and it’s been really hard on us both. We’re so heartbroken, and it’s such a letdown from the sheer excitement we were feeling just a short time ago. To make matters worse, I still feel pregnant. I was still throwing up as recently as yesterday morning. The doctor said my hormones are still elevated and may be for a while.

I am glad that we held off on telling people. As hard as it is to put on a smile at work and pretend that nothing’s wrong, I think it would have been so much harder to have to tell everyone the bad news and relive it over and over again each time. I’m also so thankful I decided to take the entire day off work on Monday. Originally, I was just going to come in late, but decided to take the entire day, “just in case it was bad news.” There is absolutely no way I would have been able to go into the office that day – not to mention, what was supposed to be an hour-and-a-half long appointment turned into over 3 hours.

I honestly don’t know when we’ll try again. Part of me wants to as soon as we’re given the all-clear from the doctor. Another part of me feels like we need more time to grieve, and am totally overwhelmed with the emotional roller-coaster that trying itself is. Even though we conceived quickly last time, there is a big part of me that wonders if it was just a fluke. Or worse, if this miscarriage is the first of many to come and further complications down the road. The doctor seems to think this was just an anomaly and said we have about an 80% chance of having a successful pregnancy next time. She said they don’t get too concerned about miscarriages until you’ve had three in a row. While this is encouraging, I can’t help but fear the worst… what if this is the first of three or more?

It’s a terrifying thought, and all-consuming. I am thankful that this week has been busy at work to at least attempt to keep my mind off things, but during any down time, my mind starts to wander again, and I find myself struggling to keep back tears and forcing myself to smile.