The day started out just fine. The house was clean, my inlaws were driving out to visit, and I had time to bake some chocolate chip cookies this morning. Even my OB appointment started out fine. I had lost another 3 pounds since my appointment two weeks ago. My blood pressure was the lowest ever while in a doctor's office, 118/70. I was given my appointment slip for my NT scan on the 24th and all of the details had been worked out. Then my doctor came in wheeling an ultrasound machine and he asked if I wanted an ultrasound today. Heck yes! He said he would be right back in and get to it. I was really surprised as on my last visit he said I wouldn't get another ultrasound until the NT scan. Just so you know, any self respecting infertile can never, ever get enough ultrasounds. We have a compulsive need to constantly see the workings of our innards.
When Doctor R came back in he explained that he wanted a look at this baby since he was the only one who hadn't seen it yet. He went on to explain that his machine wasn't nearly as good as what I was used to at the RE's office, but he thought it would do the trick. I was also thrilled that it would be an external ultrasound, my first. When he got started he pointed out the sack and fetal pole, then really started digging around and complaining about the picture. When he finished he explained that since he couldn't see everything he was looking for he wanted to send me somewhere else for a better ultrasound. I tried to tell myself that the poor view was due to the external ultrasound. I left there with orders for an "emergent" ultrasound and an appointment for next week.
The ultrasound facility was able to fit me in within the hour and they gave instructions for me to guzzle 32 ounces of water on the way over. The overachiever that I am guzzled 40. The tech started with an external ultrasound. Same picture as Doctor R's office. I hoped for better on the internal ultrasound. The tech was very chatty as she begain pointing out my now empty bladder, uterus, sack, and little peanut. Then she got quiet. And I could see why, even as she moved quickly between angles. There was no heartbeat. I told her that her silence was making me nervous. She apologized for making me nervous. Then I said, "There isn't a heartbeat, is there?" and she looked at me and said, "No, there isn't. I'm really sorry". She looked like she was going to cry. I looked up at the ceiling as she continued to take pictures and measurements. The next time I looked at the screen she had the line up that should have showed the heartbeat. It was flat. It was over. She left me to get dressed and said the radiologist would be in shortly to talk to me.
I left there and got to my car before crying as I was trying to call Brian at work. I really didn't know how to tell him. I really didn't want to tell him. Brian met me at home a short while later and we waited for the doctor to call. When Doctor R called he explained that the baby had simply stopped developing very shortly after my 7th week ultrasound and there was nothing that I did or didn't do to cause this. Little consolation. He said that he would schedule me for a D&C next week so that I didn't have to wait to do this naturally. His office will call me with the details on Monday. He would like to do it Tuesday or Wednesday. I will be off work for about a week. Doctor R said that shortly after that I could make another appointment with the RE and get things started again. I told him that IVF is off the table right now, and he said that was fine too. In the meantime, if I start bleeding or cramping I am to head to the emergency room and they will call him and he will come in and do the D&C right away.
Am I disappointed? Obviously. Surprised? Not so much. Earlier this week I had trouble sleeping. Between potty trips and wacky dreams I didn't sleep well. In one of my dreams I was having an appointment with Doctor R. He told me that he wanted me to start wearing pads. When I asked why he explained that I was going to miscarry. Then I woke up. Upset on a number of levels. Some of you know about a dream I had last August while all hyped up on fertility drugs. I dreamed that Brian and I were visiting my dad in a hospital. He was in a bed and couldn't move. Then I woke up. Two weeks later we were living that nightmare in Milwaukee. Needless to say, I'm a little creeped out.
Am I sorry that I blabbed my big mouth and told everyone my wonderful news so early? And now have to explain the horrible news? Absolutely not. I have the best friends in the world and need all the support and prayers I can get right now. Besides, it is still really encouraging that I was able to get pregnant. Will I blab my big mouth next time? Come on, of course I will! So keep the prayers coming so that there will be a next time.
I know that God has a plan, and that this is all His plan. But, I have to say, from my perspective here in the trenches, this is a really sucky plan. Later down the road I may look back and be able to see how the pieces all fit together and how this really was a perfect plan, but for right now, it is just a plain sucky plan. And it really sucks that my boobs still hurt and I'm still really queasy/pukey. And that I have a dead baby inside me.
In the meantime, I'm trying to look on the bright side of things and this is what I've been able to come up with:
1) I have really supporting and loving family and friends who are coming out of the woodwork to pray and give support.
2) Now I can paint my own darn bathroom!
3) I can get snockered on my birthday later this month.
4) I can resume my Coke Zero consumption.
It's a short list. But it's all I've got.