Basically this whole write up will be TMI for a lot of people, so I’ll go ahead and say, if you don’t like details, don’t click past the break. Everything before the break should be safe. So spoiler alert: everything is fine…right now. Baby looks perfect. Was diagnosed with a “small” subchorionic hemorrhage. Which, from what I can gather, may turn out fine in the end. But it’s still a higher risk situation. So we’re happy to know there’s a healthy baby in there, but scared about the possibilities, especially since our hearts are in our throats as it is. I hope to know more after I get a chance to talk to my obgyn’s office tomorrow. (Actually, this is getting really long, and I didn’t quite have time to finish, so I’ll be splitting this into at least 2 posts.)
It all started yesterday (Saturday) morning. Maybe. There was something kind of questionable that happened on Thursday, but I wasn’t totally sure because it was hardly anything in dark beige underwear. Everything seemed totally normal after that one bathroom visit, so I thought maybe I was over-analyzing. Though it was really scary since my miscarriage started with a tiny bit of beige spotting.
(Last TMI warning.) Friday night, I was encouraged that everything was normal again (any discharge was totally clear). But that evening, I was really, really tired. Not anything atypical for me when I’m pregnant though. The symptoms seem to go in waves this time. I actually went to bed at 8:00, even before we managed to get S in bed (though her bedtime is supposed to be 8). I was bad and I didn’t even brush my teeth or wash my face. I didn’t change out of my clothes. That much was unusual. I was just that exhausted. I fell asleep pretty easily. I had told S before I fell asleep (not expecting to fall asleep so quickly) that she could cuddle in my bed with me before she went to her own bed. I thought it would appease her since she’s really wanted her mommy time lately, and we normally have some cuddle time before she goes to bed. So I’m blissfully asleep, and in comes a still-wired 3 year-old. Daddy kind of missed the part that she could cuddle with me for a LITTLE WHILE. And I was too tired to actually get her up and put her in her own bed. So I thought maybe…maybe…she would fall asleep in bed with me, and Pete could just move her when he came to bed. Somehow (maybe I dozed off a bit off and on after all), an hour and 45 minutes went by, and I still had a cuddly but wiggly girl in my bed, and I was still not asleep. I called for Pete to take Shi to her bed. He did. And I finally wound down enough to fall back asleep.
And I woke up again at 1 am. It had to have been around 4 am before I could fall asleep again. Then I had yet another miscarriage dream, and this one felt totally real with no clues, like nothing ridiculous, to tip me off that it was “just” a dream. My alarm went off at 7, and really I should have gotten up promptly because I had to be at work and ready to roll for a 9 am patient. But I was still exhausted and totally ticked that my effort to get to bed early enough to get good rest was a total waste. I probably would have gotten better sleep if I’d stayed up late. I finally rolled out of bed at around 7:30, and by that point I was in a rush. When I got dressed, I put on white underwear (I wear my white and light colors as much as possible now so I can monitor for any bleeding). When I went to the bathroom before I left for work (was in total scramble mode by this point), I saw there was a teeny tiny spot of red blood. Not dark red, but kind of a light red, like it was mixed with mucus. My heart totally sank, but I didn’t even have time to totally process anything. I called Pete in to see, swore I’d keep an eye on it, and ran out the door. I also mentioned that if it becomes apparent that we are losing this baby, I was really not going to be in the mood to be around people. Which felt kind of lousy because Pete’s dad was coming in to visit for the day. But I really didn’t think I could handle doing anything but sitting in a dark room by myself. And maybe with Pete because he said he wouldn’t be able to leave my side.
On my way to work, I couldn’t totally stop the tears from flowing. Thank God for waterproof eye makeup. I went to the bathroom when I got to work, and nothing more had happened. Which really offered little in the way of comfort, but what could I do. My schedule originally allowed for a break in the middle, at which point I planned to go to the bathroom to do another “blood check” and then evaluate how I would handle the rest of my day. My break…did not happen. Nothing happened when I checked before my first patient, and I didn’t think I felt anything…or maybe I felt a tiny bit of something. I didn’t know. I couldn’t really overthink it too much because anytime there is a tiny bit of normal type discharge, I’m convinced it’s blood until I can look and see otherwise. But until now, it never was. I went to the bathroom when I was finished with patients and charts were completed and signed. And there was a bit more. Still kind of a light red, like thin streaks in mucus again. And when I wiped, there was another thin streak of blood. A part of me was falling apart on the inside, but a part of me was still really hopeful.
After Saturday, I’m really thinking it probably was, in fact, a tiny bit of blood in my underwear on Thursday. It was hard to tell because it had already turned kind of brown, and it was on the tan-colored underwear. But it still looked different than regular discharge. It had that same kind of scant, blotchy appearance to it. I ran to the bathroom a couple of times for blood checks that afternoon. The first time in particular, I prayed prayed prayed that all would be well with this baby. When I was miscarrying with my last pregnancy, I prayed harder than I ever have in my life. Constantly crying out to God, eyes full of tears. As I prayed so fervently for a healthy baby, in my heart I felt that God was telling me, “Sorry, but no.” This time, as I prayed, I got this sense of, “This time, it’s going to be okay.” Which I wasn’t even really expecting. It’s totally against my worrywart nature. I didn’t bleed any more that day. I told a dear friend about what had happened and the sense of peace I had gotten. But I told her how really I am not all that spiritually disciplined to know what I’m hearing. It could well have been my own wishful thinking. Her reply really struck me, and I don’t think she really meant for it to when she said it (I don’t know, maybe she did). But she just plainly said, “That’s great that you’re hearing from the Lord.” Like that was for sure what it was. I wished I could really trust with my whole heart that that is what it was. (Last night, when Pete and I were going home from dinner after finally leaving the hospital, I was relaying this to Pete. He said something that struck me too. I can’t remember his exact words, but the gist was that we often make the mistake of thinking it’s up to us (i.e. our own discipline and relationship with God) to be able to hear from Him. But really, if God wants us to hear something clearly from him, He’s God. We’ll hear it. Perhaps it is only up to us to have the faith to trust that it is from Him.
Anyway, I was there in the bathroom at work. And I was terrified. But I still had this lingering hope that maybe I did in fact hear from the Lord and this baby would be okay. Still, I was bleeding. Which while sometimes okay, it’s never good. So I first called and cancelled my afternoon at my other office (which sucks to do, but it was the right thing). Then I phoned the nurse on-call. Honestly, I HATE the new Dr’s office after-hours system (it was my first time using it). At my old Dr’s office, if you called after-hours and stayed on to get the answering service, they would have the doctor on-call return your call. At this place, I talk to the answering service, then they put me through to the nurse operator (system-wide) who takes down some of my info (contact info, the basics of my symptoms), then they put me through to ANOTHER nurse (system-wide) who collects more information about my symptoms. THEN I wait for yet another nurse (presumably also system-wide) to call me back. I was told it would be about 30 minutes. I turned my ringer ALL THE WAY up (it gets loud) and avoided making phone calls even though on my cell phone I should see/hear if I’m getting another call. But I did NOT want to miss this phone call. I stalled for a bit in the work parking lot since it’s not far from the hospital and I didn’t want to drive all the way home just to come practically all the way back. I was hungry though, and it was lunch time. I hardly felt like I could eat though because in spite of being hungry, I had no real appetite. But baby’s gotta eat. I thought maybe I could find a place close by with something I could stomach. I had been texting Pete, but then I put the phone aside while I was driving. He texted me again about something to do with S, so I pulled into a parking lot (incidentally, the parking lot of the building where my obgyn’s office is, which is right next to the hospital) to text him back. I was in the middle of texting him when I got a voice mail on my phone. It never rang. It had been about 20-25 minutes, so I was like ohhhh no. I listened to my voice mail, and sure enough, I missed the nurse call-back. She said if I still needed help I should call back. So I had to start the entire process ALL OVER AGAIN. I was so frustrated. At least they already had my notes in the computer so they could move me along faster. And this time I provided Pete’s number as an alternate in case something similar happened again. I drove home.
Meanwhile, Pete’s dad got lunch for Pete and S, and maybe himself. I preferred to fend for myself for food. I still hadn’t figured out what I could stomach. Also, I didn’t reply to Pete’s texts about what to eat because I didn’t want to do ANYTHING that might prevent me from getting a call. Pete’s dad was still gone when I got home. So I parked and went to bed. I felt bad that Pete’s dad didn’t get much time with S. And S didn’t get much time with her Grandpa Greg. But I didn’t even know what I was going to need to do. They all respected my wishes for privacy and even said their goodbyes outside. I felt bad.
I crashed at home for a few minutes, and I started getting restless because I hadn’t gotten a call back yet. Pete said at 40 minutes he was calling back. I was like no, 30 minutes is probably their best guess. Stuff happens. But I did think at least by 1 hour we should call back. Somewhere around 40-45 minutes, Pete’s phone rang. It was the nurse. He handed the phone to me. I described some of what was happening and answered her questions. She said in the Dr’s notes, if there’s a confirmed pregnancy and you’re 2 weeks or more past your missed period, any bleeding means I should be seen within 24 hours. She also said I could wait until Monday and call my Dr then if I wanted. I did NOT want to wait. I’d go crazy over the weekend. I definitely didn’t want to do anything against medical advice either. So I asked where do I go being the weekend. She said the ER, as urgent care wouldn’t have the ultrasound equipment we’d need. Part of me still felt silly. Because I knew if something were going wrong, it’s not like anything could be done to stop it. But I needed answers and, God willing, peace of mind. And the doctor’s notes said to do it, so I felt that that made it easy to know that we were doing the right thing.
Pete called my parents and brought them up to speed (I still didn’t feel like talking). He took S over to their house, then came back. We packed up our lunches and some snacks and left for the hospital.
To be continued.