Well, we went in for our first ultrasound yesterday. After a few minutes of looking the woman said, "I can't find a heart beat." That didn't phase me. I figured it was because it was so early. A minute went by, and in a low calm voice she said, "I'm so sorry." I was confused. Did she mean "Sorry we'll catch it next time, or sorry something is wrong and we'll figure it out." I asked her, and was stunned that it meant there was no beat, no movement, and no life. The baby had developed to 8 weeks, and then stopped. It must have been within a day or two of going. She continued to check my ovaries and different things while tears unwillingly streamed onto the table. I talked to the Dr. about options, and even though they explained that it wasn't my fault and this is very common I hurt and felt terrible. They said emotionally this is a death and that I would experience all phases of grieving. I just wasn't prepared. I thought the biggest surprise would be that there would be 2. After reviewing the options we decided a D&C today would be the easiest. Just a minor surgery that would clear the uterus, prevent me from having to pass naturally, and prevent possible complications. I cried for hours. I felt anxious about my uterus being a casket. It felt strange to share my body with someone that I no longer had any hope in meeting. They wouldn't bond with Paige, be born during flu season, have the name I picked. I would never see or meet them. This little person that I already loved would be thrown out in a biohazard trash bag! I finally asked for a blessing, and was able to sleep through the night.
The surgery went smoothly. I was put under. When the mask was on and they told me to take three deep breaths I was determined to make it further...2.5 was all I had in me. I woke up in a different room, and was wheeled to where Eric was. I was so relieved to see him. I acted as healthy and happy as possible so they'd let me leave, which they did pretty quickly. Now I'm cramping with hormones everywhere. I went straight to the school after the hospital to sort out financial aid for summer school. I want to be busy, and not worry so much. Why is this so hard? I think as far as the grieving process is concerned I am just passing the denial point. We'll see where it goes from here. Sorry if this is too sad. It is nice to have an outlet though. Any insight is of course welcome, but no one knows what to say, and I have no idea what I want to hear.
