I was alone for the appointment which means that I drove myself to said appointment. I was a wreck and, unfortunately, I had no means home other than to drive my car. The doctor and nurse were kind enough to allow me to remain in an exam room while I calmed myself. The doctor also gathered paperwork and discussed options for me to pass the baby since my body hadn’t realized that the baby had died. I was carrying around a dead baby. There is medication to move things along, but I was afraid of it happening while I was alone. Another option was to wait it out and let my body do it naturally and the final option was a D&C. I chose the D&C which was scheduled for nearly a week out from my last appointment. At that point, the baby hadn’t been alive in likely 2+ weeks. The doctor thought there was a good possibility that the baby would be passed naturally because of the time frame. It didn’t go down like that.
I remember waking up after the D&C surrounded by doctors and nurses. There had been hemorrhaging. The doctors had difficulty stopping the bleeding during the procedure. I felt like I couldn’t even miscarry properly and I felt as though I had to explain to everyone why I had the procedure done. I ended up in the hospital overnight and out of work for 3 weeks due to the blood loss. They actually asked my husband if he wanted to speak to a social worker. These complications were not what I had in mind. It made me feel as though my body couldn’t care for a baby properly and that there was something wrong with me. I felt like I failed my husband and that I was a defective woman because I couldn’t have children. I felt like my husband deserved so much better and I didn’t understand why the two of us were being punished so harshly. I could not comprehend this loss and I definitely didn’t understand why it was so difficult both physically and emotionally. It just kept dragging on. It wasn’t just over.
I became so depressed that eventually I ended up in the hospital for suicidal ideation. It was a turning point for me. I learned the best way for me to handle it. I had caring providers. There was always a tool or someone to help when it got bad and my medication was adjusted. These all resulted in rapid results where I went from not being able to get off the couch suicidal to a semi-normal level of functioning.
Then, my miracle really happened. We conceived my son J and he was born almost a year to the day after my due date with Alex. I never forget the babies I lost. I never forget the struggle to have the ones that I have and I am forever grateful that my two boys are in my life.