So much has happened. After resting all morning, I pulled myself together to go to the doctor. I am having cramping. There is not that much discharge – only when I wipe. The cramps are more disconcerting. I slept well enough through the night. My temp is holding in the upper 97s. I ate breakfast, remembered my Metformin, and then showered to be fresh for that down-there exam. I was pretty nervous going in. My heart rate was 112, but my blood pressure was okay – I thank my gluten free diet for that. My weight was – eh…well, up a little. So let’s sum up this appointment.
I am weighed, my pulse and oxygen level is checked, I’m moved to a room where I get my blood pressure taken. Next I review my symptoms: cramping and spotting for two days. Other questions: yes, 1st pregnancy, no, no fever, no, nothing bright red…. Then we review the medications and supplements. I’m given the little paper cover, told to disrobe from waist down, and then I sit on the edge of the exam table, looking at the skin on my legs and feeling sorry for it because it looks worn. And I wait, which allows me to worry. I am sitting quietly when there is a little knock. The doctor comes in. She is young – I’m not ageist – I’m just once again reminded of my age. She explains that she will do a quick pelvic exam and then an ultrasound. I told her that I thought I was about 6 weeks. Very suddenly she has the ultrasound up and is looking at my uterus. I have no idea what we are seeing but her first comment is, “well this appears to be a lot earlier than 6 weeks.” I immediately think how nearly impossible the other conception date would be since it is so so so late in my cycle. I go over the charting and suddenly doubt that I know what I’m tracking at all. She adds, “well since it is so early, I won’t be able to see any heartbeat.” That is a bummer, I feel like a heartbeat would have been reassuring somehow. “This is your left ovary. It looks fine. Here is your uterus. Let me try to get your right ovary.” She moves the wand around, it is just a strange pressure. All I see on the screen is fuzz. “Well that one isn’t very clear,” she gives up and moves back over the uterus. “Well, the sac is implanted a little low.” I must have had a strange look on my face. She continues, “This isn’t a normal implantation. Normally you see implantation at the top part of the uterus. Yours is here” (she points to this black circle in the middle of a bunch of white fuzz). “Have pregnancies worked out being implanted here?” I ask. She pauses, “Yes, but more often, this is a sign of something abnormal in general. I will run some blood tests and we can talk on Wednesday” (it is Monday and Wednesday feels like an eternity away). She is very matter-of-fact. She doesn’t smile except when she says, “I wish that I was able to give you better news.” NO SHIT…..me too! This is just one of those things that I know many, many women have had to go through, so I’m nothing special. I try to keep myself together emotionally, but I’m spinning. DAMN, DAMN, Damn……this is not good. I know it isn’t good because she said that if it appears that things are not going to turn out, I will need to decide if I’m just going to wait out a natural miscarriage or have a D&C – what? Yeesh! I am just reeling.
So I grab my blood test paperwork and head down to the lab. I’m holding back tears all the way. When I get to the lab, I’m advised to not have the blood drawn there, but to drive over to the Quest lab (thank you HMO) for a draw there. I’m a little frustrated, but it pales in light of the other emotions that are driving my mental bus at the moment. So I get to the car and get to the other lab. The draw is painful. “I’m fishing,” the tech tells me as the needle moves in the vein. It is only one vial….thank goodness for that. I get my bandaid and I’m back out to the car.
I want to call my husband, but it isn’t great news and I’m rather a mess, so I just opt to go to work – nice distraction.
My boss is back so I want to catch up with her. She is slammed with catch up work. My boss has known me since I was a fresh-faced 25 year old. I’ve been with her since 2000. She has seen me grow up like one of her own kids and often jokes that I could be her daughter…and I reassure her that she isn’t old enough. It is stunning that I am telling her about what is going on when I haven’t confided in any family other than my husband.
I ask her if we can talk, and I’m choking back tears the whole time. She knows me well enough to know that I’m not right. I’m usually the happy, goofy, optimistic one. We head to a quiet, private place and I can’t even contain it. I say, “I’m pregnant, but it isn’t going well and I might be miscarrying.” I start to cry, it is impossible to stop it. She is a tough German and remains as stable and grounded as I knew she would be. She reassures me that it will all be okay. She tells me to do what I can and not to worry about the rest. She is empathetic and also able to steer me back to the administrative work that I can do without being on my feet too long. She brings me back…. I’m at work and there is shit to be done. So I get to it. I dry my tears and I find my projects and I knock them out – but I’m watching the clock because I need to meet my husband at home to tell him the news – which isn’t really definitive, but it isn’t anything good.
He gets home before me and does his usual getting home routine. I’m just quiet. I’m trying to be strong and okay – but I’m not. I’m sad and worried. I want to just blink and be on the other side of this – good or bad. I don’t want to keep seeing the stain on the toilet paper and feel the twinges of pain here and there. I feel like I need to revisit my initial optimism as I’ve allowed myself to get swept up into the happy-go-lucky “wow, I’m pregnant – what a miracle” story line. And now my heart is breaking, and my husband’s with it. I don’t know how I could go through this without him though. I’ve needed his bear hugs and tenderness…he is amazing!
My computer is about to run out of juice. It is also late. I’ll try to continue this tomorrow.
I’ll be taking the morning off and hopefully getting to work in the afternoon, if things are the same as they are now. That can all change. Who knows?
The thing is that I know so many women have gone through this too. For whatever reason, we are graced with knowing that we can get pregnant, and cursed with knowing that this pregnancy is not the one….well, I haven’t yet officially crossed that bridge yet – but given the disposition of my OBGYN and how I’m feeling, I see that bridge very, very clearly ahead.
Once again, I’ll go to asleep saying a prayer and really trusting that God is in charge. I’m not usually uber religious, but there is something comforting in surrendering to that belief. I’ll take the surrender right now.