I lost my baby today. We were supposed to find out the gender, so we could start thinking of names, but at the ultrasound, there was no heartbeat. Words were tossed around that I can't really remember (I wasn't processing things very well at that point), but I think the baby was still somewhat unformed. The spine was fused, and they couldn't make out a nose or something. And of course, it was measuring about 17 weeks instead of 20.
None of this was said to us directly. They put it much more delicately ("I'm very sorry, there's no heartbeat."), and assured us there was nothing we could have done. These things just happen. And apparently they do.
Everyone was very kind, although for the first ten minutes, I was convinced that the tech was wrong, that this was some kind of cruel mistake. Until the doctor came in, and showed us very definitively. They gave us plenty of space and time to cry. We talked to lots of different people about our options. We had a friend who was an OB resident come by, which was very good for John especially.
Unfortunately, I just wanted to go home. I wasn't ready to make the decision about how to remove the baby. Remove. That seems such harsh word for something like this. Deliver isn't much better. It implies that we get to take something home. Something more than an ultrasound picture, and maybe a footprint. (Although those will be appreciated). We finally did get to go home, and spent the rest of the day holding each other, and the boys.
I am surprised by how well I seem to be doing. I've cried a lot, but I would have thought I'd feel a lot more despondent. Okay, maybe I'm not really feeling yet. Maybe that takes time too. This wasn't supposed to happen. We were so excited. Miscarriage is something you usually worry about in the first 12 weeks, not the rest of the time. Miscarriage. That's another word that seems inadequate right now. But most words do today.
Today, I'm concentrating on finding joy in the two blessings we have with us: Our sons, Timothy and Andrew. Life is hard, but it has it's blessings. They help a lot.
I'm so sorry! I will remember you and your family in my prayers.
ReplyDeleteOh Margaret. My heart breaks for you and your family. What a hard thing to go through anyways - but after being halfway it must be heart wrenching! My prayers are with you.
ReplyDeleteSorry to hear this Margaret. Our thoughts are prayers are with you and your family.
ReplyDeletepraying for you all
ReplyDeleteMarian Gray