|Categories:||Creative writing Personality Pregnancy|
I found out about you yesterday. I went to the doctor to find out why my breasts were sore, and I was considering whether I should take antibiotics for an ongoing post-chest-infection cough. Now Im worried the cough might have affected your health. I dont know if youll ever read this. You seem a little unreal. Apparently you can neither hear nor see, you are the size of a sunflower seed. You wont be aware of much for some weeks, months even. But Im aware of you now. I feel like youre one day old, too small to be thought of as needing anything. But youre more likely to be about six weeks old, long past that crucial stage for needing the worlds cleanest diet and most attentive mother. Please dont judge me, I was not informed of your existence early enough. Apparently youre growing at a rate of knots, youre real! And like your grandmother, the doctor yesterday kept insisting on things like scans and obstetricians and midwives. I kept sniggering and then apologizing. Eventually I said, Im sorry, I feel like a silly teenage girl, and admitted that she might as well be talking to a woman in the waiting room for all the good it was doing me I couldnt connect with what she was saying at all. Perhaps it was some oform of denial that would just come to pass. I made the decision to listen to her in just that way. Pretend shes talking about someone else that you care about, try to remember the details so you can help the pregnant lady after the session. It worked somewhat, though her final word was, So, any more questions? To which I answered, Just one are you sure? The doctor reassured me that her opinion, her colleagues opinion, their combined background in obstetrics and the positive test result were all I needed to be sure. I resolved to buy two more test kits after we left. I could not help but chuckle when it hit my mind: What if the two pregnancy test kits tested positive? Would it mean I was having twins? [pun intended]. Okay, back to serious matters. Matters pertaining the little one growing inside me. Im quite excited about you, but Im worried Ill kill you somehow. Lets face it: I dont have the healthiest body. I just choked on a cough as I wrote that. Man, Im hungry. Ive been so hungry this week. So you must be in there Im still not convinced. Yesterday I ate two hardboiled eggs and half a pack of sultana pasties for breakfast. Some would say thats more proof of pregnancy than the word of two obstetric doctors and a positive test. My lack of belief that I was pregnant was probably because it was my first time walking down this path. What was I supposed to do next? Was I supposed t go home and serve two plates one for you and the other for me? How could I have lived with you for six weeks and not even suspect there was an intruder? Enough said, the feeling of being pregnant was far much more normal than the news. I could have sworn I would have gone another six weeks without noticing you but dont worry, mother is very quick in adapting to changes. Did the thought of being a mother just cross my mind? As awkward as it is, yes it did.`
Dec15th: , we found out that we were pregnant! I called the obgyns office. We set up the nurse talk appointment and the 1st appointment with the doctor for December 21.
Dec21: We had the nurse talk at the obgyns office where we were given a plethora of pregnancy literature. All my nagging parent-to-be questions were answered.
Dec27: Light, dark bleeding.
Dec 28: More bleeding. I called my doctors office even though I was scared of the result. The nurse told me that its fairly normal (possibly implantation bleeding) and to keep an eye on it.
Phew, relief. Until 30 minutes later when I received a return call. The nurse talked to my doctor and things became more serious. They wanted me to come in immediately for blood testing and an ultrasound. I knew that performing ultrasounds and blood testing was normal during pregnancy but it was the voice on the other end of the line that scared me. The fact that I was needed at the hospital immediately was also frightening. I just composed myself and headed to the hospital.
At the ultrasound, there was no definite heartbeat (it was just too soon), but a flicker that was assumed to be an early indication of a heartbeat was present. My blood work looked good.
I was told the bleeding is fairly normal and to just keep an eye on it. The doctor said the bleeding could continue for a week or so and to call if it got heavier, lighter in color, or seemed abnormal in anyway. (I unfortunately did not see my regular doctor during this visit, but a different doctor within the practice).
Jan 1: From a blood test the day before, I found out that Im Rh negative. I had to go back into the office for an RhoGAM shot. (6 weeks pregnant: already 3 doctor visits)
Jan 16: Finally, the first appointment with MY doctor. I explained to her that the bleeding just stopped days ago. An internal exam occurred first; nothing remarkable was identified.
Then, the dreaded ultrasound. When there was absolutely no facial affect on the doctor or ultrasound technicians faces, we KNEW that something was obviously wrong. Some fewe minutes of silence as my husband and I glanced at each other on several occasions. Hand holding seemed to be the only option as we waited for the doc to break the silence. There was a lot of zoom in, zoom out, and zoom in one more time going on. This appeared to last almost an eternity then the dreaded words were uttered, Im so sorry, were just not seeing a heartbeat.
Despite the doctors attempt to be as euphemistic as humanly possible, the message was still the same. We were devastated. Felt cheated and defeated. In disbelief. My worst fear had come.
For some reason, I thought that we would leave immediately. Maybe via the beam-me-outta-here-because-I-cant-even-think-of-moving-right-now special miscarriage vehicleI dont know.
Instead, after giving us a few moments to gather ourselves (yeah, fat chance), we had to return to the exam room to discuss this horrific outcome. The 3 options were to 1) Do nothing (this was highly discouraged); 2) Take pills at home to pass what was left of the baby (this option came with a lot of risks); 3) Have a D&C (Dilation and Curettage). For us, there was only one option.
We went out to the desk to schedule the D&C and I could barely get myself together. I just couldnt stop crying. The doctor stated that I still stood some post D&C risks. Some of the risks included perforation of the uterus, damage of the cervix and infection. Such information did nothing to help the situation, after all the decisison had been made and the procedure had to be done. I guess it was just protocol to inform us of such.
The doctor gave a piece of paper to the secretary indicating our need for a D&C.
She mistakenly read the date and not the procedure. Such a small detail in an obgyn office, no? [Please notice the sarcasm.]
The stupid (sorry, its true!) secretary then says, Oh, wow, a baby this Friday! Exciting?! In total disbelief, I said, No-no, no baby for us. Inside me was a burning urge to call her all sorts of names which I resisted.
What a big and poorly timed mistakeouch! My husband is still infuriated that this happened.
Jan20: The dreaded D&C.
This will have to be a separate post; there is just too much to tell. The good news was that the procedure had been performed without any hitches. The doc said to wait two normal periods before trying again. It took a solid month of my body to get back to normal after the surgery. We finally hit the 2-month mark after recovery.
Over the two month period I went through several episodes of self hate and consolation equally. At one point, I could not help but feel that this was all my fault. I despised myself for not focusing on my health and well being which translated directly to that of the unborn baby. I asked myself : Was this a message? Did this imply that my life was ending soon? Maybe I was overreacting or maybe not. The fact is that I called the doc many times over the recovery period. I really needed to hear that the miscarriage was not my fault. I yearned for a professional and expert opinion to shift my anger and blame towards. The doctor was very helpful on this front citing several probable causes. I even sought advice to prepare my body for my next baby. Yeah, you guessed right, we had plans on getting pregnant again very soon.
My husband being a really chilled out guy never really expressed what he felt openly but since we had been together for a while, I knew he was disappointed. From the day I had come home from the hospital to tell him that we were going to have a baby, he was more glad than I was. Finally we were going to start a family together., he said. So supportive was he that he accompanied me to the hospital occasionally. It was no surprise that news on the miscarriage had left a scar on him too and it did not take much effort to convince him that we had to try again once I was back to full fitness.
Were now on month 1 of trying again. Prayers, please.
Hardest thing? Knowing that our once baby to-be passed away, but was still in my body.
Most surprising? How intense and serious the surgery was; that I have been going through a full-on grieving process; how taboo the subject of miscarriage truly isdespite its commonality.
Feelings Im ashamed of? Cattiness/jealousy of those in our lives who have become pregnant since we lost our baby.
What I know for sure? That this baby was our first babythat I will never forget him or herand that although the hole may get smaller and smaller as time goes on, there will ALWAYS be a hole in my heart for that baby that will never be filled.
It is amazing that prior to the miscarriage, I had always thought of having my own kids but after it happened, the desire seemed to have grown even bigger. This was a transition from a dream to a sort of desperation. The first time around I had gotten pregnant with virtually very little effort. I had not put my mind into it at all. I was not even sure whether pregnancy would look good on me. For this reason I had been surprised once it happened. This time around, I was focused and little bit over determined to conceive. It seems it will take us longer to be pregnant again.
It is now an everyday routine to sit on the toilet, whisper a word of prayer and take a urine test. I am optimistic that one day the test will come positive and by then I will be prepared mentally and physically. Yes, even physically. Did I indicate that I have been exercising regularly of late? Oops! sorry I failed to mention my morning runs and tummy workouts. I want our second baby to find a condusive home inside me and for this reason my diet has even changed. I have been taking more vegetables and lesser junk just as the doctor advised.
For some reason, I cannot help but feel that this ordeal sort of awakened the motherly instinct in me. Today as I was coming home from the store, I even stopped to chat with a mother strolling to the park with her six month old baby on a cart. Let me mention that I had gone to the store to purchase some magazines offering pre-natal guidance. I arrive home to find my husband back from work flipping through the TV channels looking for something fancy to watch. When he sees me with the magazines, he starts his usual talk asking me to stop building pressure on myself. I manage to force a smile but no words before going to the bedroom to change before starting dinner preparations. On my way out, I feel the urge to use the bathroom. It was not like I was pressed or something but I just went into the bathroom anyway. I opened the cabinet. There was the pregnancy test kit staring at me in the face. I had not done a test for slightly over a week now and...
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