Monday, February 18, 2013

Hard to admit, harder to overcome

I can't believe this happened to us! Why did our babies get taken away from us!
Everyone needed to be told and it was going to be even more devastating to tell them. Against most people's advice, we had spilled the beans on our pregnancy to everyone by the 8 week mark (family, extended family, friends, work, facebook...). Now, everyone needed to be told that our hearts had been crushed. We started with family and let them help in spreading the news to extended family, then was work and facebook. Unfortunately, I was literally and figuratively "a mess". My husband bore the burden of delivering the horrible news to most people while I sobbed uncontrollably in bed, on the floor, in the top it all off, my parents were out of town on vacation & I just wanted my Mom.
I awaited the call from the Dr. as to when I would be scheduled for a D&C (it would be immediately scheduled the following day).
I arrived to the hospital (where I work) and am told to provide a urine sample to make sure I'm not pregnant. (Normal routine for ALL procedures that a woman is having, except when having a D&C for miscarriage...the nurse hadn't looked at my procedure yet, just proceeded with normal procedure). I just stood there in shock, shaking my head slowly...and then faster, while I couldn't choke back the tears...they just flowed. Embarrassed, she looked at my chart again and apologized. An aide escorted me to the pre-op room and helped me change. She then closed the curtain to maintain my privacy as many "work" familiar faces kept walking by.
I kissed my husband goodbye as they wheeled me back to the O.R. I found out later that our hospital played the lullaby (for newborn babies) just as I was wheeled away from him, and he lost it, sobbing.
The pain and bleeding after the D&C was rough. I had an average of 4-5 out of 10 pain with bouts of 9 out of 10 at times. I'll share the gory details with those that inquire, but will spare the majority of my blog audience.
Thank goodness I have a great personal counselor and a supportive husband to help me get through the following days, weeks, and months...
Flowers & cards began to arrive because no one knew what to do or say...I put them in the dining room (away from the living room where I spent most of my recovery days). Then I began to pitch the cards. I couldn't look at the flowers without crying...not just tearful reflection, but falling on the floor sobbing at times. It was just a shrine to me...of a loss that I was struggling to overcome. I asked my husband to take them away...some of them were beautifully expensive, but I just couldn't look at them anymore. He had his Mom take them to a hospice center (I think)...I just wanted them out of the house.
My poor he was trying to deal with the loss himself, he was also desperately trying to help me put the pieces back together. He was a nervous wreck. Not knowing what TV program, movie, or spoken word would send me into a devastating spiral of emotion. He was working with my counselor and so was I. We argued about when to "try again". One doctor told us "wait 1 period" another doctor told us "wait two". I chose the "wait one" answer, he chose the other. I wanted to get pregnant again to help me get over the loss, he just wanted his wife "better again". When we were able to be intimate again, having a baby was all I could think about...affecting the "mood". I wanted to steal all of his condoms and sabotage them...I wanted a baby! It took a few months to "get over my obsession" and lots of counseling for both of us.
The doctors were unable to tell us what the problem was and why we miscarried, but said we would try some blood testing and other techniques for "next time".

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