9 Weeks, 4 Days // D+C

>> Monday, March 30, 2015

Today marked the end of my pregnancy with baby #2. After watching and waiting for the last three weeks, I simply couldn’t wait any longer and made the decision to have a D&C. It wasn’t the choice I really wanted to make, but my body showed zero signs of natural miscarriage and I was still experiencing horrible morning sickness, food aversions, etc. -- which was difficult both mentally and physically. I needed to heal. I needed to move on. Obviously the procedure isn’t the end of the process, but it was a major, major hurdle I needed to clear.

So, I made this decision last Wednesday. The soonest appointment I could get was today, Monday morning. I tossed and turned in bed all last night. I think maybe I slept a few half hour chunks at a time. I haven’t had any medical procedures done in, well, forever, so I was quite anxious about all it might entail. To make matters worse, Ada threw up at 3:00 AM and continued to do so every 20 minutes until we had to leave. Thank goodness for Stephen’s mom. She took over bowl duty once we left. But all that early morning cleanup and consoling made me beyond nauseous, and I almost thought I’d need to cancel the procedure because I was sure I was going to lose my handle on my own sickness any minute.

We showed up at 6:15.

After getting signed-in, I needed to change into a gown, hospital socks, a hair net and some mesh undies (fun). No one came in for a good half hour, which I mostly spent gagging, but then someone did record my vitals. Another short wait and the anesthesiologist came in. I know not everyone has the best bedside manner, but his -- especially in light of my situation -- was particularly jarring. Since I was feeling nauseous, he told me I couldn’t do the twilight sleep and, instead, had to do general anesthesia with a breathing tube, etc. I was taken a bit off guard, so I asked a few questions (is this higher risk? will it hurt? will i remember the tube? does the procedure take longer? basic stuff). I mean, it felt like a major change (not that I was arguing it -- I want to be safe), and he just quipped back:

“Well, you don’t have a choice, do you? So . . . it is what it is.”

Geez, I know. Thanks.

The nursing staff was awesome, though, and my doctor came in for a quick chat before it was go time. The nurse anesthetist was SUPER warm and kind, so she put my mind at ease. At some point, another nurse put the IV and it felt cool running through my veins. A weird sensation. Then they gave me some stuff to help the nausea. Then when it was time to head down the hall, they put something else in my line to make me loopy. I remember getting into the OR. I remember looking up at the big round lights and having people chat with me. But very soon after, I was just . . . out.

Before I knew it (and as my friends told me would happen), I woke in another room with three people attending to me. The first feeling I had was confusion followed immediately by tremendous relief. Since mine was a "missed miscarriage,” I have been already dealing with a lot of the emotions and grieving in the last three weeks. Today was a huge step because I was very uneasy about continuing to wait for my miscarriage to just happen. In theory, I wanted to wait and let my body do what it would do. However, we don’t have family in the area, so I worried what I’d do with Ada if things got bad. And I had absolutely no signs (bleeding, spotting, cramping) that anything was going to happen in the near future. I felt like a ticking time bomb.

Making the choice to get the D&C is, according to my doctor, highly personal. After our consultation last week, he agreed that my circumstances (especially watching the miscarriage happen in slow motion with weekly scans + my unrelenting morning sickness) definitely made me a good candidate for doing it this way. There are some risks. I think I’ll always feel a bit conflicted about my decision. At least now I will be able to continue healing without this big event looming over me.

In all, it’s a situation I never saw myself in.
It’s hard to make choices that way, you know?

I’m a bit bummed because my doctor expressed that he’d like us to wait three full cycles before trying again. There’s a lot of debate between doctors on best practices. I asked if any of this time was built in for emotional grieving. He said it’s more for the body to heal fully. As much as we’re devastated about this loss -- we feel at peace knowing that likely our baby would have been sick or suffered in some way. Sigh.

Still, I think what’s been harder is this whole process and its ever-growing length -- there are days when I feel like a second child might just not happen. Others when I genuinely feel like we’re the only people struggling (which is so far from the truth!). I don’t have anything against raising and only child, but I do feel somewhat sad only because I always envisioned myself having two kids . . . and adjusting that picture is hard, especially when it’s not really by choice. I’m trying to be one of those people who believe that we’re given the family we’re meant to have. But in all my angst right now, this honestly just sucks. I won’t jump to any conclusions. I also have to give myself a break because my hormones are insane and I just had anesthesia. I won’t elaborate too much on this point at the moment.

In the end, I look back on my first pregnancy and marvel at how lucky we were. I used to think if you just knew how to get pregnant (charting, knowing ovulation dates, having sex at the right time, eating well, etc.), that having babies was easy for most people. Our journey this time along couldn’t be any more different. So, I will follow my doctor's orders and wait. We’re going to go for some of the testing on my second cycle and see where that leaves us with regard to TTC. I am hoping after a few days of recovering from this procedure that I’ll get back more to my normal self in many ways. But more on that soon!

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