A blog about babies: the babies I lost, the babies I never had, the baby who made me a Mama.

Friday, November 6, 2009

Emotionally Drained; or, Still Hanging In There

This has been the most emotionally exhausting 24 hours of my life. I apologize for leaving you (or just Stef, if you're the only reader) hanging, but I needed to process and deal with my emotions and fears before I could post.

We went in to my gynecologist's yesterday at 4:30. My doctor performed an exam first and found the cervix closed, so she said the blood had not come from my uterus. Then she did an u/s. Almost immediately, we saw the embryo--big and totally obvious. My husband gripped my hand with relief. I felt oddly detached. And then she said, "Let me just find the heart beat. Hmm, I can't find the heart beat."

She referred us to a diagnostic sonography place for today. She said she gave our chances at a viable pregnancy at 50-50. She spoke a little bit about our "options" if the pregnancy wasn't viable. But then she stopped herself. "Don't think about it any more tonight," she said. "Just go home and rest. We don't know what's going on yet."

My poor husband had almost fainted when he heard her say there was no heartbeat. Literally, he had to go lie down in another exam room (Can you tell we're cut from the same anxious cloth?). I felt numb and calm. We left the office together around 5:30 and began walking down 2nd Avenue.

Our close friends had given birth the day before and were in a hospital 30 or 40 blocks south of my doctor's. We had planned to visit them after the appointment to meet the baby, but at that point we didn't know what to do. I suggested we just walk for a while. While we were walking, I called the other doctor's office and set up an appointment for this morning at 8:30.

After I made the appointment, all my fear hit me. I started crying, gripping my husband's hand. At the same time, I was aware more than ever of how much I loved him and how grateful I was to have him at that time.

We walked, and sometimes I cried, and sometimes I didn't. We decided to visit our friends--who suffered a miscarriage about 2 years ago, then tried for over a year afterward before conceiving this child. We are both so unadulteratedly happy for them, it seemed like the right, unselfish thing to do. And the visit was good. For a little while, I put what was going on out of my mind and just felt happy for two people I care a lot about and their very cute little baby boy.

And then we went home. And I fell apart. Sobbing, vomiting, I was a mess. I wound up calling my mom and I spoke with her and my dad for about an hour. They were comforting, reminding me that we can't know God's plans for us and just have to trust in him. And that hardship comes to every life, but that I'm strong and will survive it. My mom said she would go to morning mass for me today.

We fell into an exhausted sleep at 10, and then I woke to pee at 2 am--I didn't sleep again until 4 or 5, waking for good at 6. I puked all morning and cried into my tea as I got ready for the drive back into Manhattan.

Even though my doctor had given us 50-50 odds, I felt like they were 90-10. I was sure this was not a viable pregnancy. I sobbed the entire car ride to the office. I imagined how difficult hosting my best friend's baby shower tomorrow would be, and attending my husband's family wedding the following weekend in California, and getting through Thanksgiving and Christmas. I felt heartbroken. But I also knew I'd be able to survive whatever came.

We had our ultrasound with the doppler. It lasted forever, at least 10 minutes, and was actually painful by the end of it. The u/s tech didn't say anything throughout. She had told us she wouldn't, but she spent so long looking at everything, I was certain she was searching fruitlessly for signs of life. She stopped the exam then, went to find the doctor, came back and said, "I see an embryo. And I see a heart beat."

My husband started to cry. I just felt--nothing. Not sadness, not joy, not even relief. Nothing. Tired. Spent.

We met with the doctor after I dressed. He was concerned that we were measuring two weeks behind based on my last menstrual period. I tried to explain that I always have longer than average cycles and this cycle I ovulated especially late. Even so, he wants us back next week to check on the progress.

And he told us the heart rate. 92.

I came home and ate McDonald's with my husband and slept for two hours.

I feel like I've had a stay of execution. I feel released. I don't feel happy or sad right now. Just peaceful. The baby is still alive for now and that's a good sign. I honestly did not expect to get this news today. So it's enough for now.

Though my cervix is letting me know it did not appreciate 2 vaginal ultrasounds in as many days.

1 comment:

  1. There are no words.

    I wish that I had something to say. Something that would soothe your worry, ease your pain, lift your spirits.

    But there are no words to do that.

    Instad, I want you to know that I am thinking of you, dear friend. Each and every moment, I am holding your heart near mine, hoping with every part of my being that your miracle stays with you.

    Much love you you, sweet C.