On March 13th, 2018 I had a dilation and curettage (D&C) procedure to remove the tissue from a failed pregnancy. Anyone who has ever experienced something like this knows it sucks. I have already encouraged some with my story and thought maybe writing about it could do some good and help bring others healing.
My pregnancy ended on March 13th, but it began in December. My husband and I had started trying to conceive in October. I'd been on the same birth control since 2012, the year we got married. Growing up in a very traditional Christian family and attending Abstinence classes at my high school I was naive enough to think that if you had sex you would get pregnant. (Like an automatic transaction. Sex = Pregnancy) I was actually terrified of getting pregnant when we first got married. We had a 5 year plan - enjoy marriage as Mr. and Mrs. for 5 years before we invited any littles in. So in October of 2017 I said goodbye to my birth control. My gynecologist is a very nice older gentleman. We set up an appointment with him to discuss our "family plan" - two kids, 2 or so years apart and we'd like to conceive as soon as possible please. After my first cycle off of birth control he ordered labs and a urine sample. The results came in. Everything looked great except I hadn't ovulated. He said we'd give it a couple months before intervening with modern medicine. So for the next two months I went in on day 21 of my cycle for blood work and a urine sample. The first time he called and told me I hadn't ovulated. In the first week of January I was having mood swings like nobody's business - crying at Downy commercials, laughing at sad scenes in movies - I thought I was having a manic breakdown. And then my doctor called and said "I don't know how, but you're pregnant hon." All I could say was "What?" He said "You didn't ovulate but your urine sample says otherwise. You're pregnant. We must have gotten our dates wrong." My mind was reeling. We didn't get the dates wrong. I was certain of that. Was I really pregnant?
We went in for an ultrasound the following week. The ultrasound tech was really sweet. She did some measuring but didn't say much. She printed no pictures. I couldn't really tell what I was looking at on the screen. She told me my doctor would call me.
He called a few hours later and said once again that we must have gotten our dates wrong, that I wasn't far enough along to see anything definitive yet. We scheduled another ultrasound for two weeks later. Two weeks later the blurry image on the screen looked the same. The ultrasound lasted all of five minutes and the tech escorted us to a room to wait for a doctor. My Doctor was on vacation so a young woman doctor I hadn't met before came in to deliver the news - "There has been no development... This isn't a viable pregnancy." I don't know what else she said because that's all I heard. I'm sure she thought I was in shock. She excused herself and said she'd give us some time to think over our options. Alex had to tell me again what our options were because I couldn't comprehend them. Option 1) Try to pass the tissue naturally. Option 2) Take some pills that are supposed to help your body break up the tissue and pass it 'naturally'. Option 3) Have a D&C to remove the tissue.
As much as I wanted it to all be over I didn't want to undergo anesthesia and I figured a procedure would be expensive. When the doctor came back in the room I told her I wanted to try the natural route. She said she would let my doctor know and he would call me later to check on me. And then like a crazy person I went to work. I am the sort of person that needs a distraction so I figured no good would come of using a personal day to sit around and feel sorry for myself. In the back of my mind I was afraid I would miscarry at work and what an awkward and terrible situation that would be. That afternoon I told my bosses (both men) I was in the middle of a miscarriage and that at any point I might have to leave. I had no idea how this was supposed to work. Like would I have a sign or a feeling or double over in pain? I just hoped and prayed I would be at home when it happened.
A few weeks went by with no movement, no spotting, no nothing. The mood swings were in full swing and the food aversions were starting to come at me full force. It was like my body didn't get the memo that the pregnancy wasn't viable and was determined to hold on to it for as long as possible.
By the first Monday in March my doctor was concerned (and I was stubborn). He said there could be more complications or more difficulties getting pregnant again if we didn't remove the tissue now. He said I could try the magical miscarriage pills or we could schedule a D&C. I asked how much the pills were - $10. And all I have to do is take them and poof, it's all over? - Yes. Expect some mild discomfort and lots of bleeding. You'll want to take a day off work. Once you pass it you'll know. Ok, bring on the pills. I called one of my bosses. I told him I'd likely be out the next day but I'd let him know for sure. I took the pills around 4. I followed the instructions to a T. And then I waited. After nothing was happening for over an hour I googled the medicine - probably a bad idea in hindsight. I found blogs of women who had used the same pills and discussion boards on 'what's normal' when miscarrying using this method. One lady said she made a smoothie and read a book while passing it, piece of cake. Other discussion boards and blogs spoke of more pain or it taking multiple days for the pill to take full effect. I buckled in for the worse.
At midnight I woke up with the worst pain I have ever felt in my entire life. I won't bore you (or maybe more accurately, gross you out) with the gory details. By 4 AM I knew I wasn't going to work the next day... or the next day. I spent the next 36 hours in between my bed and the bathroom. I didn't realize until the second day and some more google researching that the pain I was experiencing were actual contractions. "Mild discomfort" doesn't begin to cover it. Thursday morning I went back to the doctor to learn that all the pain was useless. The tissue hadn't budged. We scheduled a D&C for the following Tuesday morning, and I went back to work with some Motrin in my purse.
I took it easy over the weekend, hoping that somehow I would pass it and not have to have the D&C on Tuesday. On Sunday night we told our small group what was happening. (We had told no one outside of my bosses). It was met with shock and tears. It was as if their faces were saying You've been going through this for 6 weeks and are just now telling us? I felt in some way I had betrayed them by being so closed off. But at the time I truly believed it was better to go through it alone (wrong! More on that later.)
Tuesday morning came. We were at the outpatient hospital in Montgomery at 8 AM. The prep nurse was AMAZING. I was clearly visibly nervous. The only surgeries I've had before this were for my wisdom teeth and a bunionectomy in high school. The wisdom teeth obviously required anesthesia and both surgeries are pretty involved when you think about it but neither felt personal like this did. The nurse asked me a lot of questions. She filled out the paperwork for me because my hands were shaking. She helped me get situated and gave me an extra blanket because I was chilled. She told me stories of hope - A friend of hers who had had a miscarriage and a few months later was blessed with a twin pregnancy. She told me stories of her dogs and I showed her pictures of mine. She made me laugh. She made me forget where I was and what was about to happen. Alex was allowed to come back and sit with me until I went in for the procedure. We watched the news and talked about anything except for why we were there. He took all my jewelry and my clothes. I felt naked and exposed without my wedding ring on.
I was wheeled back to the big scary procedure room at about 9:50. There were 8 people standing around me in scrubs and bright lights all around me. I felt overwhelmed and small. My doctor was doing the procedure himself so I felt comforted in seeing his face for a moment before I slipped into blackness.
By 10:15 I was in recovery slowly coming to. My vision was blurry and I was trying to say something but I couldn't speak. The recovery nurse was saying my name. I blinked and I could finally see her right in front of me. She was holding a glass of water and some Motrin. I took the pills and the water. When the water hit my tongue all my senses ignited and I once again realized where I was. "Is it over?" I asked. She smiled. "Yes, dear. Get dressed and we'll get you on your way." Alex was there. I hadn't noticed. I wasn't very spatially aware. He handed me my things and the two of them helped me to the bathroom to get dressed. It must have taken me a long time because she knocked to make sure I was ok at some point. When I walked out she was there with a smile and a wheelchair. I told her I could walk and she said something about how she had to wheel me out - protocol. I think she was just being nice because I was clearly having difficulty standing.
Alex got the car and she helped me into the passenger's seat. The fog of the anesthesia was finally lifting and I was starting to feel 'normal' again. Looking back on this now Alex says we were in recovery for at least an hour. It felt like minutes. At some point in the recovery room my doctor had come to see us, to tell us everything went well but I had lost a lot of blood, more than he expected I would. I was at risk of hemorrhaging and had to take these pills that would prevent that? Or something? I don't know. I was still anesthesia drunk. Apparently they are rarely prescribed and they don't have them at the hospital so we had to go to a pharmacy to get them. It was just six little pills taken over the course of 2 days but I suppose they were important.
When we got home I laid down on the couch with a heating pad on my lower back. I drifted in and out of sleep and around 4 o'clock I woke up and realized that for the first time in over a week I had no pain, no stiffness, no swelling and no anxiety. I had a renewed sense of energy. I started cleaning the house and was adamant about going to bible study that night. I wasn't allowed to drive so Alex took me and a friend brought me home. And it was as if none of it had ever happened. I went back to work the next day. Co-workers asked me how I was feeling - they all assumed I had been sick with the flu or something. I politely said I was fine and in that moment, I was.
My pregnancy ended on March 13th, but it began in December. My husband and I had started trying to conceive in October. I'd been on the same birth control since 2012, the year we got married. Growing up in a very traditional Christian family and attending Abstinence classes at my high school I was naive enough to think that if you had sex you would get pregnant. (Like an automatic transaction. Sex = Pregnancy) I was actually terrified of getting pregnant when we first got married. We had a 5 year plan - enjoy marriage as Mr. and Mrs. for 5 years before we invited any littles in. So in October of 2017 I said goodbye to my birth control. My gynecologist is a very nice older gentleman. We set up an appointment with him to discuss our "family plan" - two kids, 2 or so years apart and we'd like to conceive as soon as possible please. After my first cycle off of birth control he ordered labs and a urine sample. The results came in. Everything looked great except I hadn't ovulated. He said we'd give it a couple months before intervening with modern medicine. So for the next two months I went in on day 21 of my cycle for blood work and a urine sample. The first time he called and told me I hadn't ovulated. In the first week of January I was having mood swings like nobody's business - crying at Downy commercials, laughing at sad scenes in movies - I thought I was having a manic breakdown. And then my doctor called and said "I don't know how, but you're pregnant hon." All I could say was "What?" He said "You didn't ovulate but your urine sample says otherwise. You're pregnant. We must have gotten our dates wrong." My mind was reeling. We didn't get the dates wrong. I was certain of that. Was I really pregnant?
We went in for an ultrasound the following week. The ultrasound tech was really sweet. She did some measuring but didn't say much. She printed no pictures. I couldn't really tell what I was looking at on the screen. She told me my doctor would call me.
He called a few hours later and said once again that we must have gotten our dates wrong, that I wasn't far enough along to see anything definitive yet. We scheduled another ultrasound for two weeks later. Two weeks later the blurry image on the screen looked the same. The ultrasound lasted all of five minutes and the tech escorted us to a room to wait for a doctor. My Doctor was on vacation so a young woman doctor I hadn't met before came in to deliver the news - "There has been no development... This isn't a viable pregnancy." I don't know what else she said because that's all I heard. I'm sure she thought I was in shock. She excused herself and said she'd give us some time to think over our options. Alex had to tell me again what our options were because I couldn't comprehend them. Option 1) Try to pass the tissue naturally. Option 2) Take some pills that are supposed to help your body break up the tissue and pass it 'naturally'. Option 3) Have a D&C to remove the tissue.
As much as I wanted it to all be over I didn't want to undergo anesthesia and I figured a procedure would be expensive. When the doctor came back in the room I told her I wanted to try the natural route. She said she would let my doctor know and he would call me later to check on me. And then like a crazy person I went to work. I am the sort of person that needs a distraction so I figured no good would come of using a personal day to sit around and feel sorry for myself. In the back of my mind I was afraid I would miscarry at work and what an awkward and terrible situation that would be. That afternoon I told my bosses (both men) I was in the middle of a miscarriage and that at any point I might have to leave. I had no idea how this was supposed to work. Like would I have a sign or a feeling or double over in pain? I just hoped and prayed I would be at home when it happened.
A few weeks went by with no movement, no spotting, no nothing. The mood swings were in full swing and the food aversions were starting to come at me full force. It was like my body didn't get the memo that the pregnancy wasn't viable and was determined to hold on to it for as long as possible.
By the first Monday in March my doctor was concerned (and I was stubborn). He said there could be more complications or more difficulties getting pregnant again if we didn't remove the tissue now. He said I could try the magical miscarriage pills or we could schedule a D&C. I asked how much the pills were - $10. And all I have to do is take them and poof, it's all over? - Yes. Expect some mild discomfort and lots of bleeding. You'll want to take a day off work. Once you pass it you'll know. Ok, bring on the pills. I called one of my bosses. I told him I'd likely be out the next day but I'd let him know for sure. I took the pills around 4. I followed the instructions to a T. And then I waited. After nothing was happening for over an hour I googled the medicine - probably a bad idea in hindsight. I found blogs of women who had used the same pills and discussion boards on 'what's normal' when miscarrying using this method. One lady said she made a smoothie and read a book while passing it, piece of cake. Other discussion boards and blogs spoke of more pain or it taking multiple days for the pill to take full effect. I buckled in for the worse.
At midnight I woke up with the worst pain I have ever felt in my entire life. I won't bore you (or maybe more accurately, gross you out) with the gory details. By 4 AM I knew I wasn't going to work the next day... or the next day. I spent the next 36 hours in between my bed and the bathroom. I didn't realize until the second day and some more google researching that the pain I was experiencing were actual contractions. "Mild discomfort" doesn't begin to cover it. Thursday morning I went back to the doctor to learn that all the pain was useless. The tissue hadn't budged. We scheduled a D&C for the following Tuesday morning, and I went back to work with some Motrin in my purse.
I took it easy over the weekend, hoping that somehow I would pass it and not have to have the D&C on Tuesday. On Sunday night we told our small group what was happening. (We had told no one outside of my bosses). It was met with shock and tears. It was as if their faces were saying You've been going through this for 6 weeks and are just now telling us? I felt in some way I had betrayed them by being so closed off. But at the time I truly believed it was better to go through it alone (wrong! More on that later.)
Tuesday morning came. We were at the outpatient hospital in Montgomery at 8 AM. The prep nurse was AMAZING. I was clearly visibly nervous. The only surgeries I've had before this were for my wisdom teeth and a bunionectomy in high school. The wisdom teeth obviously required anesthesia and both surgeries are pretty involved when you think about it but neither felt personal like this did. The nurse asked me a lot of questions. She filled out the paperwork for me because my hands were shaking. She helped me get situated and gave me an extra blanket because I was chilled. She told me stories of hope - A friend of hers who had had a miscarriage and a few months later was blessed with a twin pregnancy. She told me stories of her dogs and I showed her pictures of mine. She made me laugh. She made me forget where I was and what was about to happen. Alex was allowed to come back and sit with me until I went in for the procedure. We watched the news and talked about anything except for why we were there. He took all my jewelry and my clothes. I felt naked and exposed without my wedding ring on.
I was wheeled back to the big scary procedure room at about 9:50. There were 8 people standing around me in scrubs and bright lights all around me. I felt overwhelmed and small. My doctor was doing the procedure himself so I felt comforted in seeing his face for a moment before I slipped into blackness.
By 10:15 I was in recovery slowly coming to. My vision was blurry and I was trying to say something but I couldn't speak. The recovery nurse was saying my name. I blinked and I could finally see her right in front of me. She was holding a glass of water and some Motrin. I took the pills and the water. When the water hit my tongue all my senses ignited and I once again realized where I was. "Is it over?" I asked. She smiled. "Yes, dear. Get dressed and we'll get you on your way." Alex was there. I hadn't noticed. I wasn't very spatially aware. He handed me my things and the two of them helped me to the bathroom to get dressed. It must have taken me a long time because she knocked to make sure I was ok at some point. When I walked out she was there with a smile and a wheelchair. I told her I could walk and she said something about how she had to wheel me out - protocol. I think she was just being nice because I was clearly having difficulty standing.
Alex got the car and she helped me into the passenger's seat. The fog of the anesthesia was finally lifting and I was starting to feel 'normal' again. Looking back on this now Alex says we were in recovery for at least an hour. It felt like minutes. At some point in the recovery room my doctor had come to see us, to tell us everything went well but I had lost a lot of blood, more than he expected I would. I was at risk of hemorrhaging and had to take these pills that would prevent that? Or something? I don't know. I was still anesthesia drunk. Apparently they are rarely prescribed and they don't have them at the hospital so we had to go to a pharmacy to get them. It was just six little pills taken over the course of 2 days but I suppose they were important.
When we got home I laid down on the couch with a heating pad on my lower back. I drifted in and out of sleep and around 4 o'clock I woke up and realized that for the first time in over a week I had no pain, no stiffness, no swelling and no anxiety. I had a renewed sense of energy. I started cleaning the house and was adamant about going to bible study that night. I wasn't allowed to drive so Alex took me and a friend brought me home. And it was as if none of it had ever happened. I went back to work the next day. Co-workers asked me how I was feeling - they all assumed I had been sick with the flu or something. I politely said I was fine and in that moment, I was.
Comments
Post a Comment