Let’s talk about the elephant in the room

As I mentioned in my previous post, this is my second pregnancy – my first ending in miscarriage. I find myself saying “this time” a lot, as I process through this pregnancy, so the loss is definitely still in the building, so to speak. I figured I’d take the bull by the horns and talk about it now before progressing any further with future blogs.
As I alluded to previously, we got knocked up very quickly. Something in my head had told me that it would take at least 6 months, and that would be if I could conceive at all. I guess I just figured I’d have trouble for some reason. My husband “knew” before I did, as he claimed that I just wasn’t acting right. I figured I just had one hell of a case of PMS that month. After a week of not starting (and getting out my calendar from the past year and mathematically trying to calculate the mean for my days between cycles), I broke down and got a test. It was positive. The next morning as I tried to put on makeup, I wept. This is noteworthy, as I’m not a weeper. My mother has always called me “robo-child,” as I tend to not emote so much.
Boy, was I angry to be pregnant. I was excited, too, but angry. I suddenly couldn’t have any wine (and if there’s ever a time when you need a bottle, trying to wrap your head around a sudden pregnancy is it). I couldn’t dye my hair for 12 weeks. I couldn’t take my normal sinus medication. I couldn’t eat sushi. I couldn’t ___(Insert verb)___. See the trend?
We went in for our 8 week appointment (another difficult thing for me, as I HATE doctors….I feel they should all have to wear big floppy clown shoes or a bone through their nose), where they took blood (something I had managed to avoid during my entire adult life for the most part – again, irrational phobia) and proceeded to give me a vaginal ultrasound after the nurse told me they wouldn’t. My first clue – looking back – was that ultrasound. They reset my due date back by just over 2 weeks. We didn’t see/hear a heartbeat. The next day, I started spotting.
I should mention at this point that this was the Monday and Tuesday before Thanksgiving, so it was a short week for all offices. I opted to call my doctor’s nurse Wednesday, and after leaving a message she called back to tell me it was normal, and that as long as it was mild, with brown (old) blood and no cramping, nothing to worry about. The spotting continued for the next 2 days.
In the meantime, I was compulsively researching my symptoms online. Yes, it was sometimes normal to spot after a pelvic exam (something my doctor had not actually bothered to mention), but this usually only persisted for 48 hours. By Friday, it seemed to be getting a bit heavier, so I took a chance and called my doc’s office. Of course, being a holiday, no one was there. I was given a number to call for an after-hours nurse via their recording, so I called it.
This woman did not identify herself. She did not take my name or number. She just said to take it easy and call for an ultrasound Monday morning. I was told the same thing both Saturday and Sunday when I called, and by then, I WAS cramping and the blood was brighter and more plentiful. The last time she sounded almost irritated, and said that there wouldn’t be anything anyone could do that early in my pregnancy. I guess information, compassion, and pain management are “nothing.”
That Sunday night was simply dreadful. The pain was intense, and on the off-chance that there was still some hope (and mainly as a result of my husband’s plea at that point), I didn’t even take an Advil. The blood loss was very alarming.
What made it worse was a total lack of any medical support. We miscarried alone with Dr.’s Google and Wikipedia.
The next day, the nightmare continued, although the event itself was pretty much done. My doctor’s office continued their show of “caring” by not returning phone calls. My own doctor didn’t even contact me until nearly a week later, after I expressed my disgust and disappointment with the “care” I had received to her nurse. She said she hadn’t known/been told what happened. And while I believe her, it’s no excuse for such a shoddy staff.
Based on my own research online, I learned that you needed to wait one cycle before trying again (if you were “lucky” enough to miscarry completely by yourself – i.e. without requiring a D&C). We did, and fortunately conceived again immediately. Some women seem to need longer to process the loss, some of us seem to need to get pregnant again ASAP. When I was dealing with the worst sadness and rage of my life, it was the idea of trying again that kept me a few steps back from the ledge. But we are all very different.
If someone – anyone- is out there reading this, my one piece of advice I would share is to MAKE SURE YOU ARE COMPLETELY COMFORTABLE/HAPPY WITH YOUR DOCTOR AND HIS/HER STAFF. This seems like a no-brainer, but I think that so many of us feel that they are all god-like, busy entities, which work us in at their pleasure and convenience. We get uncomfortable asking too many questions or expressing concern/angst when our expectations aren’t met. This is simply too important of a process to succumb to that kind of “untouchable” mindset. They are not doing you a favor. This is their business.
I made an appointment while I was still reeling from my miscarriage to get in with another doctor/practice. I initially made a consultation, as I wanted to sit down and talk about my experience and be reassured that while there were no guarantees that I wouldn’t miscarry again, I would at least get some support. Who knew I’d already be pregnant by the time my appointment rolled around. She (new doctor) immediately swung into action, and has been much more hands on than my last doctor. So far, so good this time.
And maybe, because of this loss, I am celebrating this pregnancy so much more than I was before. No wine? Who gives a rat’s butt! Ditto for sushi. I was, however, grateful to color my hair this week (at my doctor’s ok). I think the fetus wants a mom with no grays (at least at first).


About larva225

Working mom. Is there any other kind? Geologist. Nerd.
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One Response to Let’s talk about the elephant in the room

  1. Pingback: Meet A Blogger: Dramatic Momologue | That's What Anxious Mom Said

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