I went for an early dating scan at 10 weeks, 4 days, the baby quit growing at 7 weeks, 6 days, no heartbeat. I had never heard of a “missed miscarriage”, till my doctor explained it. My options were bad and worse: wait for my body to recognize the loss, medication to induce miscarriage, or a D&C surgery. My other half and I discussed it and decided to wait it out, and let my body heal itself. My doctors only reservation was that she didn’t want it to go beyond 12 weeks, so we agreed to pills in that event. At 11 weeks 5 days I saw my doctor, she gave me the prescription and we discussed the bigger picture. This baby was an accident, but both my other half and myself decided we really wanted to add to our family, we would try again. We wanted to keep the process as natural as possible to keep scarring and problems to a minimum. I have been fortunate, this was my first loss, and according to my doctor the next should be fine, it was likely just a fluke. Though at 36 years old time is not on my side, if we’re going to do this sooner is better. We went home and I had the prescription filled. The other half had bought concert tickets months before, I made him go to the show with his friends, it was going to be a rough weekend.
I took the pills vaginally at 2am Saturday, it would allow things to start in my sleep, which the doctor recommended. I woke up at 7 am, no real signs, but I couldn’t sleep. By 9am the bleeding had begun and the baby had passed. I spent the day cramping and bleeding. Everything I read gave these horror stories of blood loss and pain, my experience was not like that. I bled but never filled more than two maxi pads an hour, when I peed I gushed blood and tissue. My only pain medication was Motrin, it was sufficient. I passed the placenta around 5 pm and the bleeding slowed significantly. The other half took me out for dinner at our local pizzeria, I was looking pale and he thought food would help, he was right.
Sunday I had considerably light bleeding, by that evening the cramping and gushing had returned. Monday I called out sick. Monday night I didn’t sleep, my body was running hot and cold, my body felt dehydrated no matter how much I drank, I was miserable. Tuesday morning the other half read me the riot act, he demanded I call my doctor when they opened. I went to the office and situated some legal paperwork I had to get done. The office opened at 9, I let the on-call know what was going on and she sent me to the emergency room.
I spent a good amount of the day in the emergency room. Placental fragments were wreaking havoc, I was developing an infection. The ER doctor wanted to do a D&C, the procedure I was trying to avoid. The operating room wasn’t available so she stabilized me and set me up for a first thing in the morning out patient procedure.
The next morning I came back and had my procedure. I bled for about a week, and I have a check up in a couple days to make sure everything is ok.
In the middle of this ordeal my grandmother who raised me passed away from congestive heart failure and on the same day my sisters husband dropped dead in his bathroom at age 47. My heart is so hurt from loss I can’t begin to know where to start. I’ve read through many grief advice columns, but much like when my little brother passed I think for me it’s best to just keep moving forward. I’ve cried till I have no more tears, it’s time for new beginnings.