One more notch on my belt
And then the cramps. More blood over the next couple of hours.
Urge to push. Stood over towels on the floor and squatted.
:::cough:: Plop. Large pile of calve's livers. Scooped it up into a clean container.
Dripping, trickling blood while trying to get dressed for the hospital.
Lab work showed Hcg dropped to 4000-something. (was like 21k at 6wks)
L-o-n-g, detailed sonograms, both external and internal - the tech turned the screen away and said it was "hospital policy" to not share the info until the radiologist read the report to the attending physician.
Uncomfortable internal exam to remove more piles of clots from my 'pelvic vault' or whatever.
"I'm sorry but there is no heartbeat. The fetus has dropped low and is lying at your cervix. You have not yet begun to dilate; your cervical Os is open, but we can't access the fetus from here. Your doctor does not feel you'll be needing a D&C at this point. You should pass it soon while you're resting at home. Call your Ob/Gyn today to get an appointment".
Doc calls me during my nap. Said he was reviewing the film and labs; believes the baby died around 7w5d, so about 4 weeks ago. The prometrium kept my body thinking it was pregnant.
(I believe I correctly predicted this already).
The husband is torn up, was crying out to "god" asking why, why us, why now, why again?? We're good people. What point could possibly be need made by doing this??
Another one sent for karyotyping.
Appt in the morning with the doc who will try to extract the remains from his procedure room. Believes that at less than 8 weeks, there should be little to no placental material to remove; thus no D&C. Have believed this before, and after a month of intermittently heavy bleeding, ended up with the D&C and a blood transfusion. But that baby actually was >12wks, so there were retained placental fragments at that time.
This whole thing is suck a mindfuck. The first couple of weeks were an emotional nightmare to me, incredulous, couldn't believe this happened, and I honestly was in shock and not really happy about it either. I became cautiously hopeful. As of about 3 days ago, I was actually excited. I wanted this. We were predicting a girl. I was, dare I say it, happy.
Doesn't pay off for me to get happy or hopeful.
Some sick part of me wants to try again immediately, with careful monitoring and/or assistance for my hormonal support. I'm not getting any younger, and we got to the point where did, indeed, want this. The husband, though, says no, and he'll get a damn vasectomy, because he NEVER wants to have to go through this again. EVER. He can't stand seeing me suffer, and this one in particular hit him like a ton of bricks. He got over the age thing, and had begun planning his future around it. And now he feels lost without a purpose.
But this is all just first-day shock talking. In a few days we'll be back to the cold angry cynics we'd become long ago.