I mentioned that I was ready to talk to Dr. B about what had happened and that I needed to gather his thoughts in order for us to decide whether or not we move forward with another round. She gasped. "You're considering not trying again?" I heard the disappointment in her voice. You see, this office I go to isn't just any kind of doctor office. These people live and breathe babies. It's in their blood to do anything and everything in their power to make ones dreams come true by helping them conceive these miracles of life. With that said, I'm not just any other patient. My situation is unique. My body has a mind of it's own and has defied every ounce of logic and statistic out there. Doctors stopped saying, "don't worry, it won't happen to you" because chances are it will happen to me.
I told my nurse that this miscarriage just about did me in and at the moment, I don't see us trying again. It's getting harder and the vision of us having a second child is fading more and more. It's destroying me. For three days I had called their office to discuss what had happened with Dr. B and I hung up every time they would answer the phone because I would meltdown thinking "I can't believe I have to have this conversation, again."
To get in to see Dr. B is almost impossible. He's booked months in advance, which is more proof that he is the best of the best. The nurse told me that he's booked through January, but that he wants to speak to me next week once he studies my file. "Don't make a decision until you talk to him, Courtney. Hold on to hope- you're so close." Yet, so far.
So that's where I'm at. These days my goals are small, they need to be. Anything that seems too large tend to overwhelm me and in order to keep moving forward I need to keep everything within reach. Baby steps...I agreed to the meeting and I'm patiently waiting for the phone to ring.
Before hanging up the phone I told the nurse that the bleeding wasn't all that bad. I had about two days of light bleeding and cramping, but other than that I was physically feeling ok. I've had a miscarriage before and this one wasn't bad. She was a little taken back when I mentioned "light" bleeding and told me to come in in a few days if I didn't get anything more.
I spoke to soon.
Two days later I was sitting in a meeting when I felt it come on. The cramping was so bad I could feel sweat beads rolling down my face. All I could think was, "no, no, no, no, no...this isn't happening. Not here, not now." I made it through the meeting and quickly exited while running to the bathroom while holding myself. This is it. Whatever the hell I experienced last week wasn't it. This is it. In this depressing ass bathroom. I can't even have a miscarriage in the privacy of my own home. I mean, seriously, can I ever catch a break!?
TMI...
I sat in the bathroom for what seemed like an hour. I wanted to pull the fire alarm to get everyone to exit the building so I could sneak out without the stares and whispers. An ounce of dignity is all I was asking for.
Once the bleeding slowed down I had to wash up the stall which now looked like a crime scene. The tears were inevitable. Telling myself to keep it together was no longer an option. My heart was broken and I was embarrassed. I made it back to my desk only to quickly sit down as the cramping became unbearable. I kept looking over to the office my boss was sitting in to try to make eye contact. Nothing. So I sat longer hoping the cramps would subside and the bleeding would slow down. Once I was able to catch my breath I walked into his office and all I could say was "I have to go! I have to go! I have to go!" As I was practically shouting out at him round two was starting. I hunched over so quickly as the bleeding started to gush. At that point I looked up to a man staring at me with his jaw to the ground and a look of horror. Hysterical, I grabbed my things and ran out.
Driving home was a blur. Looking back I probably should have had someone pick me up. All I kept thinking was that I needed to get home to my Olivia and my husband. I needed to shower. I needed to cry. I needed privacy.
I got home in time to put Olivia down for her nap. Once she fell asleep I laid in the shower and cried my eyes out. Why? Why is this happening? What did we do that was so wrong? Not being able to get pregnant on our own is hard enough, but then to not be able to hold a pregnancy...why? It's brutal. I don't know how else to explain the feeling of having a miscarriage. You go to sleep crying and you wake up feeling as if you just went through the most gut wrenching breakup and the heartache is brutal.
This miscarriage is different than my other one. With this miscarriage I'm a mother. It's not just Don and I. I can't just lay in bed for three days feeling sorry for myself. I have to get up and I have to keep moving. I guess that's a good thing. What good is it to lay around feeling miserable? Once my Olivia woke up from her nap it was go time. No more crying- not in front of her. She needs you, all of you. Get it together. I walked up the stairs, cramping and bleeding, and went to get Olivia from her bed. She was a little cranky when she woke up. I picked her up and she laid her head on my shoulder. I stood there holding her while she lay on me. This is unusual for her. Though she's very loving, she doesn't lay on us often. She's a big girl now and she's independent. She'll give me my daily hugs and kisses, but laying with me rarely happens these days. Tonight was different though. It was just her and I and we sat in the middle of her room and she laid on me, and I took it in. How did this sweet baby know that I needed this moment?
A couple hours later Don came home. He was well aware of my day, but we didn't really talk about it. He hasn't been holding up as well as he has in the past, and I was so drained that I wasn't interested in talking about emotions that we've become too familiar with. We had to go about our evening and stick with our nightly routine, so we made dinner. Don did most of the cooking, but I helped. I thought, "I'm a mom. I can have a miscarriage and make dinner at the same time." It's funny how being a mom can pull out an ounce of strength that you didn't think could exist.
It's been a few days and I'm doing better...we're doing better. Don has his ups and downs, but he's doing ok. In moments of silence I meltdown, but the support of my family and friends has helped tremendously.
The unknown is what makes me a little flustered. Do we try again? Do we call it quits? We honestly don't have the answer. The morning after the miscarriage I overheard Olivia talking in the other room. I peaked in there to find her having a tea party, for one. It killed me. Will it always be for one? Will she ever have a little buddy to boss around? This is what I struggle with every day.
Oh Dr. B...bring me some answers.
I will continue to pray for you. I understand your grief.
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