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I found this beautiful poem at the back of the Miscarriage brochure and although it makes me cry (more), I think it’s a fitting end to this diary… and I hope it’s not too long before I start my new journey.
Just Those Few Weeks
By Susan Erling
For those few weeks -
I had you to myself.
And that seems too short a time
to be changed so profoundly.
In those few weeks -
I came to know you…
and to love you.
You came to trust me with your life.
Oh, what a life I had planned for you!
Just those few weeks –
When I lost you,
I lost a lifetime of hopes,
plans, dreams and aspirations…
A slice of my future simply vanished overnight.
Just those few weeks –
It wasn’t enough time to convince others
how special and important you were.
How odd, a truly unique person has recently died
and no one is mourning the passing
Just a mere few weeks –
And no “normal” person would cry all night
over a tiny, unfinished baby,
or get depressed and withdraw day after endless day.
No one would, so why am I?
You were just those few weeks my little one
you darted in and out of life too quickly.
But it seems that’s all the time you needed
to make my life so much richer
and give me a small glimpse of eternity.
I woke this morning around 4.30am (nothing unusual in that these days), but I immediately felt that I wasn’t pregnant. I had had another night of weird dreams, which they say are associated with pregnancy, but I found myself lying on my stomach, and my first thought on waking was that I couldn’t be over 10 weeks pregnant because I was still sleeping on my tummy. I got out of bed around 5.30am and went to the toilet. I felt a “discharge” so I peeked in the loo and saw some brown/reddish spots and realised I was bleeding. I wasn’t too upset at this stage, just a bit out of sorts. My trainer arrived at 6am, and I told him that I didn’t feel right and that I was bleeding. He suggested that I shouldn’t train with weights today, but I told him that I felt that if something was going to happen, it probably already has, and although we should take it a bit easy, I was still keen to train.
When he left at 7am, I went to the toilet again, and this time I was bleeding drops into the toilet (like a period), and the colour was more red than brown. And then I started crying because I really knew now that it was over. I rang my sister, who told me to call the medical centre or the hospital. I rang the medical centre to talk to a doctor, and the receptionist suggested that I should come in rather than talk on the phone, and that they would send me straight in to see the doctor with no waiting. I asked if they had scanning machines there, or should I go to the hospital. She said they don’t have any scans there, but that they could organise it if need be. Basically, she said it was up to me where I went, but I would probably get seen quicker if I went there.
So I rang my sister back, jumped in the shower, got ready for work, and was out the door within 20 minutes. By now I had pretty much been crying since 7am when I was sitting on the toilet. I got to the medical centre around 7.45am and saw a different doctor. He was amazing, very caring, very worried and concerned, and totally willing to do everything that I needed to do to get through this time. His opening comment to me when I sat down was “now, when did I last see you?” and I had to explain to him that this was our first meeting, and that I had only been to the medical centre once a few weeks before. I told him that I woke this morning on my tummy and because of that, I didn’t feel that I was pregnant anymore. He explained that although he understood my thoughts, it wasn’t a very scientific diagnosis, and perhaps we should check me out medically before we jumped to any conclusions. He checked my abdomen, asked me a few questions, and told me that he wouldn’t do an internal exam, but that I should have an ultrasound. He got the receptionist to book it, and the first available appointment she could get was 11.30am (because I had to drink water for an hour and then hold it for an hour). Of course, my first thought was for work and that I couldn’t possibly take a day off after only being there for 3 weeks, so I told him that I couldn’t make it and that I was going to work. He was horrified and told me that this was important, and that I was too upset and that he would sort work out. I was confused and worried, and I guess I really didn’t want to have the scan because I didn’t want to hear that I wasn’t pregnant anymore, and running away to work was going to be my best option. I was still crying a lot, and he was very worried about me and told me that this was important, so I decided to take the day off work and get it sorted out.
Before I left the medical centre, he told me to come back after the scan and to sit outside his office (not to go back to the receptionist). I drove over to to my sister’s but noticed that my niece’s car was there, so I kept driving over to best friends place. I figured that she wouldn’t be home (she was heading away for a week’s holiday), but her hubby might be home, and I needed to drop something off to him, so it could kill some time until my niece left. As it turned out, my friend was still home, as they weren’t leaving until 10am. She opened the door with a huge smile, happy to see me, and then said… what’s wrong? When she saw my face. I told her I was bleeding and she hugged me and we talked about the morning. Her two young daughters asked why I was crying, and I explained that I was sad that they were going away and that I was going to miss them.
I stayed at her place for a while, and noticed that I wasn’t bleeding sometimes when I went to the toilet, and I was bleeding other times. I sent my sister a text to let me know when my niece had left, and she sent one back saying everyone had gone and she had the house to herself. So I headed back over there to wait before the ultrasound.
My sister had rung the hospital to see if I could get in for an ultrasound any earlier, but with the Emergency Department, it’s a bit “hit and miss” so it worked out that it was probably best to stick with the scan I had booked.
Mum arrived on her way to bingo, and I decided not to tell her anything other than I was feeling a bit off on my way to work, so decided to take the day off and just hang here for a while. I was drinking lots of water, and also needed to move my bowels (how nice was that?) as I just had an “all round” uncomfortable feeling in my abdomen, so I decided to go to the toilet at 10.30am. And then I had to drink more water! All up, I drank 2.5 litres and then headed down for the scan. They were pretty good, I turned up at the wrong place, but they were affiliated with the other place, so they just moved my appointment from one location to the other, and fit me in where I was.
The radiographer (I think that is what they are called) was really nice. I missed her name, but she called me in, and got me to lie down to do an external ultrasound first. As I was lying back, I really cramped up, and as soon as the pictures came up on the screen, I knew there was no heartbeat. I saw the sac, and the embryo, but where I had seen a very strong heartbeat at 6w6d, there was no movement this time. The radiographer was very well trained, and didn’t confirm anything, just assured me that more tests needed to be done before any conclusions could be made, but I knew. I was holding my sister’s hand and I told her that I didn’t see a heartbeat like I did last time.
After a short while, I was told I could empty my bladder and she would do an internal ultrasound, because sometimes (see, there is still hope) when the bladder is so full, it compresses the images. I went to the toilet (relief) and was still bleeding, so for me there was still no hope, only confirmation required.
This time, the radiographer was able to give more conclusive information, and she took measurements of the foetus. She said that it appeared that the embryo had stopped developing around 6w2d, and the cervix had stopped growing around 7w3d. I know I saw the heart beat at 6w6d, so I guess the baby was just small, and got through to week 7. Long enough to change from an embryo to a foetus.
We left the ultrasound clinic around 12 noon and she told me that they would put a rush on the results and that I should have them in 30 to 45 minutes. We went straight back to the doctors, and waited to see him. He came out of his office soon after, and true to his word, he called me in. I explained that the baby was gone but he needed to see the results (he thought I had them with me), so he asked me to wait outside again and he got the receptionist to chase them up and told me he would see me as soon as they came in. The receptionist that I had seen all day came to tell me that the scanning place would get her the results within 40 minutes (and this was already 12.30pm, 30 mins after they told me 45 mins). Oh well, I had the choice of waiting at the Doctors, or going to the scanning place to wait there. I stayed where I was, and was pretty upset still – by now I’d been crying steadily since 7am, so I looked a nice mess too. My concern was the Doctor finished work around 1pm and I didn’t want to miss him. The receptionist told me that he would stay there as he had appointments until around 2pm.
The results came in around 1pm and the Doctor saw me immediately. He explained that the baby had stopped developing around 7 weeks, which is called a “missed miscarriage”. This is when the baby dies but stays in the uterus and that I now had the option to wait until nature took its course, or I could have a dilation and curettage. This is basically a small operation, under general anaesthetic, where they dilate the cervix and scrape the lining of the uterus, which removes the “products of conception” (a medical term to cover all the contents of the uterus during pregnancy. I didn’t want to wait, and have to deal with this all over again, and who knows when nature would take its course, or where I would be. Also, I want to try again as soon as possible, it now feels like my only goal in life is to get pregnant – and I really need to stop thinking like that, as it now has a sense of finality attached, and I was (way before I knew that I cared this much)… I was very much of the opinion that if it happened, it happened, and now I appear to be very much of the opinion that this is all that matters in my life.
This doctor was so fantastic all day – it is ironic that I have now found a doctor that I love, right when I am not pregnant anymore. He told me that I’m too hard on myself, and he’s proud of me that I’m so independent and doing this myself, but that I need to let people help me more, and that as he gets to know me better, he’s going to make me more soft. He also said that I should go to the hospital and that they will most likely help me today or tomorrow and that afterwards, he will help me through it. He was amazing, and told me that he wishes he could do more to help me, but of course, he can’t, and we just have to take each day as it comes now.
My sister and I then drove home, and picked up some McDonald’s to eat because I hadn’t eaten all day. We got home and I took one bite and realised that I would have to have a general anaesthetic and that I would need to have been fasting for that. So I rang the hospital to see what I should do before I ate anymore. I’m so glad I did, because the Doctor had told me to present to the Emergency Department so that I would get seen ASAP, and the midwife confirmed that, but during the conversation, she spoke with someone else and realised that I already had my scans, so she said to come to the Women’s Clinic and they would get me seen to that way. Kind of a back door option to get in the front door quicker.
So I packed a back, changed my clothes, didn’t eat and we left for the hospital. On the way to the hospital, I called my other sisters, and told them what was going on. I tried to contact Mum, but her phone kept going to voicemail. When I got to the hospital, they sent me to a quiet waiting room where I found a great brochure on miscarriage (which has the beautiful verse reprinted below). The registrar came to see me and it was the lovely young woman I met last Monday (gosh, was it truly only a week ago?). She was sad for me, and also had the miscarriage brochure to give to me, so they are obviously on the ball with looking after women in these circumstances. She was great once again, very thorough, explaining the procedure, and going through the options. She got straight on the phone to get me admitted for the procedure today, ringing the anaesthetist, surgery, bookings & admissions and even the bed manager in case I needed to stay longer than Day surgery (in case an emergency came in and I got bumped).
Finally, it was all sorted, and I had to go and get some blood tests and then head down to Bookings and Admissions and that it all sounded like they would see me pretty soon as there was another woman in the hospital that had been there since 9am who was due to have the same procedure soon.
So off we went to Bookings and Admissions. When we got there, I took my number (57) and noticed that the board just clicked over from 48 to 49. I called Mum again, and she asked if she should come up to the hospital, and I told her that there was nothing she could do, so it was okay. I also called work to let them know that I had a pretty bad case of food poisoning and that they were putting me on a drip in the hospital for a few hours because I was dehydrated. That sounded as good as anything, and also explained that I wouldn’t be in the next day.
Soon after, Mum arrived and then my number got called, and we got booked in and then went up to the Day Surgery, and it was only a matter of minutes before they took me into a room and got me prepared for the surgery. They said that the other woman had gone down about 20 minutes ago, so they expected me to be called very soon. I undressed, put on a hospital gown and some very sexy paper undies (not!) and got into bed. They took my blood pressure and pulse, tied the tags around me and soon after, called my sister and Mum in to say goodbye. I was wheeled down to the pre-op area and arrived there at 4.50pm.
After a few minutes in the pre-op area getting me checked in (asking me the same identification questions, I was then wheeled into the anaesthesia area. More identification questions, and then the Anaesthetist tried to get the cannula into my vein and he said my vein was moving… I have no idea where to, it was still attached to my hand where he was jabbing me. So he tried again with another vein and luckily, this time he got it in. They had to take blood through the cannula because the pathology was closed.
At 5.10pm, I was wheeled into surgery, where they put the anaesthetic in my arm and I went to sleep.
I woke up at 5.50pm in the recovery room with a nurse removing the tube from my throat and the head nurse (Damien) introducing himself and putting an oxygen mask on me. For a split second, I forgot why I was there and then I wondered why my eyes were so sore, and then I started crying again as I remembered. They took my blood pressure and pulse and at around 6.10pm, they took me back to the room. Luckily, my sister had left my book for me to read, and the nurse soon came in and told me that she had also kept my handbag and had put it in a locker for me, which was great, because I wanted to text my sister to come and get me. They brought me in a sandwich to eat, and told me I could get dressed soon after that. Once dressed and eaten, they moved me into the recover room where there are just chairs, no beds, to sit, and the nurse also told me that I should go to the toilet before I leave, so I went straight away. I sent out a text to my friends letting them know what had happened, and the nurse came back to remove the cannula, and a few minutes later, my sister arrived to collect me.
I stayed at my sisters, and she told me that she had told the children and that they were very upset for me. I had a few scotches with my brother-in-law, and went to bed around midnight. I had a little bit of bleeding and a little bit of cramping, but nothing the scotch and more crying didn’t fix. My brother-in-law’s brother came over, and he was wonderful as usual. Not afraid to talk about it, but supportive and caring – it definitely runs in the family.
I went to bed around midnight, and woke up at 4.30am… and started writing this diary around 6am. It’s now 9am and I think its time to go home and have some alone time. I plan to ring the Fertility Clinic this morning to see how I go about starting again.
I told my new boss that I had to leave work early today to pick up my sister from her eye appointment, but it was really to get to the hospital to meet the specialist. The appointment started with a lovely registrar (I couldn’t catch her name, and she said it really fast and she didn’t wear a name badge). We spent about 20 minutes going through my history, and she took lots of notes. She was very thorough, and really nice.
She then asked if I wanted to hear the baby’s heartbeat on the Doppler machine. She cautioned me that it was very early and I was unlikely to hear anything, but if I wanted to try, she would give it a go. She said a lot of women get apprehensive if they can’t hear the heartbeat, so I shouldn’t try if I was going to be worried, because it was highly likely that it was too early anyway. I told her I was willing to give it a go, so I jumped up on the bed. The Doppler machine is a really weird soundwave machine… it’s like an ultrasound where a gel is used on my abdomen with the soundwave device, but the other end is small and handheld. It’s kind of like a walkie talkie because you hear a lot of static and a lot of noises from inside the body – like fluids moving, and I heard my heart beating, even though she was down on my abdomen (it was like an echo). We couldn’t find the baby’s heartbeat, but we did hear noises like a mobile phone was going to ring, so I told her that the baby was trying to ring her, and we both had a laugh at that.
After the attempt with the Doppler, she left the room and came back with another registrar who was doing her rotation (in training) and she asked me if it was alright that she sat in on the rest of the exam. I was okay with that, and so she handed my blood test results over to her to see if she could find what was wrong (?!) with them. It turns out that they hadn’t tested for syphilis, and were going to send me for more blood tests, but I assured them I had had all sorts of screening blood tests trying to get pregnant, and that if they found syphilis, I probably wouldn’t have been here now J
She then paged the specialist, who came in, got a run down of my history, said hello, and then left. Haha and one wonders why they get paid the big bucks!
Anyway, that was pretty much it! She told me that I should make my next appointment with the hospital for 4 weeks time, after my scan, which I guess means another day off work (I already have my scan on 2 December and a 2 hour appointment on the 4 December to book into the hospital). The receptionist asked if I thought an appointment in 3 weeks time would be okay and she booked me for 11am on 4 December, straight after my booking in appointment which was great (less time off work).
I finally decided to use the local medical centre. After a lot of phoning around to find someone with outside of work hours that bulk bills (and preferably female – I have no idea why I feel like I want a female), the only place I could find was a medical centre. They have a female doctor who works a lot of Saturday’s, and also has an early start of 7am on Friday’s, so that suited me perfectly. I really need to give the Clinic some details, so I went down to meet her this morning.
The Doctor was nice enough, although I have to say, I didn’t immediately feel a strong rapport with her. She was pleasant, even cracked a smile, but I didn’t feel that she offered me any advice unless I asked the question, and lets face it, the only reason I need a doctor is to tell me what to do so that I stop reading the damn internet to get all of my answers lol.
She spent most of the appointment time on her computer, printing out referrals for me. I needed to get a referral for the specialist appointment, and she also gave me details to book me in for a neural translucency test. This test is an external ultrasound and a blood test that carries no risk at all to the baby, and gives an indication of downs syndrome in the baby. Basically, it tells me if I have a 1 in 100 chance, or 1 in 1000 chance kind of thing. It is designed to give me more information as to whether to have the more invasive tests or not.
Oh, and she also decided that I needed another round of blood tests… how totally excellent. So off I went up to the pathology lab to get another round of blood taken. I’m kind of getting used to it now I guess.
So that was it, I now have a doctor, although my heart still isn’t in it, but I’m hoping that she’ll grow on me. I didn’t dislike her, I just didn’t fall in love with her J She told me that she would see me again in 4 weeks time, and I left.
