Tuesday, November 30, 2010

Tears In Heaven

Well...

Here I am again.  It's been two weeks since my last update.  I really wish I had an outpouring of good news to share on this update, but unfortunately this update is filled with nothing but sadness.

I went for my check-up last Tuesday, I was 11 weeks and 3 days and was really hoping for a chance to hear our baby's heartbeat because that would put my mind at ease.  My doctor performed a pelvic exam and sent me for an ultrasound.  The ultrasound tech took a lot of pictures and measurements, and then she seemed to be looking for something...and looking...and looking...it was taking her a really long time (or, at least it seemed that way to me), until she finally said the words I had hoped to never hear again-

"I'm sorry, but I cannot find the heartbeat."

I felt the tears well up in my throat.  I think the only thing that came out of my mouth was "What???" because she said it again, and asked if I'd like to see.  I nodded, and she turned the monitor to where Owen and I could see it, and there was our baby...but no other movement.  No heartbeat.  No nothing.  She told us the baby was measuring about 9 weeks so to the best of our knowledge, our baby had passed away two weeks prior.

And I had no idea.

Can I tell you how utterly STUPID I feel to not have had even the SLIGHTEST inkling that my baby had died?  I wonder how I am even fit to be a parent if I couldn't even tell that my baby had passed away. 

As she did with us the last time, she gave us a minute and I looked at Owen, who I knew was holding back tears for my benefit just from the look on his face.  I cried for a good 10 minutes before getting dressed to go back into the doctor's exam room.  My doctor came in with the grim look on his face, and told us how sorry he was, and that when he did the pelvic exam he didn't think my uterus was measuring the right size and that this explained why.  He asked if I wanted to do a d&c, which of course I did because last time I had no choice, I miscarried naturally by the time we figured out what was going on and then ended up needing a d&c to "clean up" afterwards.  I asked if it could be done the next day; just the thought of having to go through the end of the week and the holiday carrying my baby that I would never get to hold just didn't sit well with me.  They scheduled me for 9:30am the next day.

Owen...gosh, Owen was great.  I know he was hurting just as much as I was but he tried to stay strong for me.  I do know, though, that he about broke his hand smashing it into his spare tire out of anger and frustration when we left the doctor's office.  We dropped Samantha off at daycare the next morning and went to the surgery center.  Everything went well, I was out for about an hour but the procedure didn't take that long.  I have two nice bruises from my IV lines, but the nurses there could not have been nicer.  I woke up in more pain this time, for which I was given a shot of fentanyl and then hydromorphone orally, so I spent most of that rest of that day in a drug-induced haze.  I do remember my mother in law being at my house when we got home, she had come and cleaned up a bit and put fresh sheets on our bed so that I could crawl right in when I got home...that was nice.

The rest of the week went by kinda in a blur.  Thanksgiving was at our house this year, and even with losing the baby and the surgery we still decided to host since we had all the food and it was easier to cook than to pack up a raw turkey and all the stuff for fixings and drive it 20 minutes away.  I actually found myself wanting to get up and cook, so Owen did the turkey and I did everything else.  That night Samantha went to my inlaws to spend the night (as we had prearranged since we were both supposed to work the next day), and instead of hitting the hay early we decided we would go join the rest of the crazy people that hit WalMart when it opened at midnight Friday morning.

Yes, we were crazy.  Just blame it on the drugs I guess because we also hit Toys R Us when we were done at WalMart.  I got a few decent deals and a free breakfast at IHOP that ended close to 4am.  We got back home and in bed by 4:30am.

But, to my dismay, the garbage trucks making their weekly pickup woke me up at 8:30am, and I couldn't go back to sleep.  That seems to be my problem these days.  I can get to sleep fine, but if I wake up...all the thoughts come in and I can't go back to sleep.  I guess having the holiday was a nice distraction but now I'm struggling to deal with the emotions that I pushed aside last week. 

I went back to the doctor this morning for my post-op follow-up and he asked me if I needed anything (antidepressant wise); I told him no, simply because I know that anything he would give me wouldn't take full effect for 2 to 3 weeks and by then I'll be feeling better anyways.  They sent tissue samples from the baby off for genetic testing and we should have those results in the next 3-4 weeks.  Depending on what they find (if anything) Owen and I might have to be tested as well.  The doctor asked if we wanted to try again, which of course we do, but told us we need to wait until we have those test results back but to keep taking my prenatal vitamins. 

So....I'm back to why I started this whole blog to begin with...dealing with the wait.

Owen said if we try again and have another miscarriage he's done.  I REALLY REALLY want another child, and I will just pray and pray that things will work out for us next time and that he's just upset as part of his grieving.  I also think we will likely wait to tell people because I'm not sure how well I will deal with "Don't you think you should've waited longer?" type statements.  I am willing to put God in the drivers seat and know that He will give us a baby when it is time for us to have one.  It isn't anyone's decision but ours and His.  Period.  (That was my soapbox for the day, by the way, sorry I didn't give you advance notice).

I think the holidays are going to be rough.  I hope that my "cloud" moves on quickly so that I can enjoy the holidays, especially for Samantha's sake.  The memory of our two angel babies I will hold dear.  I hope to find something to put on our tree for them this year, just like I get Samantha a new ornament each Christmas.  After all, they are our children too, we will just have to wait a bit longer to meet them.