D & C

Just blogging to try and process the whole D & C process.

Friday:
On Friday we were told the heart had stopped beating. The RE then called the hospital to schedule my surgery. The hospital called and left a message on my cell while I was at the RE to pre-register for surgery. On the way home from the RE that day, I called and spoke with a woman who pre-registered me. She told me to go to the registration desk at 3:15 on Saturday to register as they close at 3:30.

Saturday:
We arrive at the hospital/blue desk/registration at 3. There is a sign it is closed and to go to coral registration. We find coral registration; it has a sign that says to use blue. We go back to blue, find another sign that says to check-in at the in-patient surgery desk. We find this desk, no one is there. We then go find an information desk. The two boys working there have no idea where to send us and attempt to call their supervisor who they can't find. At this point it is 3:30. We find another info desk (unmanned) and DH calls the operator on the phone. They inform him to go to emergency and we can register there.

We walk to the complete other side of the hospital campus to the emergency room and sit in the "non-flu symptom" section. We then are told to go to a restricted door, and someone will open it to get us to register. This woman lets us in, and we sit down to register. She's all giggle and smiles. She keeps making mistakes and saying "oopsies." She can't find our paperwork. She finally gets me checked in and sends us up to the room I'm assigned. Although I am outpatient, on the weekends you are assigned a room for some reason.

We make it up to the floor my room is on and are shown to the room. The nurse then instructs me to change into a gown. I ask if I should leave my panties on as I'm still bleeding. She looks clueless. This is when it hits me that they have NO IDEA why I am here. She tells me that it would be ok. I am about to lose it at this point. I change and sit on the bed. Numb. DH is having a hard time as the last time he was in a hospital room was when his mom died 4 years ago. A nurse comes in to start my IV. She doesn't ask which arm/hand is better, just starts working on the left which is not a good one. I tell her that. She says, "I'm sure it'll be fine." It's not fine. She punctures the vein and it REALLY hurts. I tell her to leave it; I don't want her to do it again. She tells me that she can't leave it as she has ruined that vein. She takes it out and leaves and I start bawling. As this nurse is leaving, I say something about "why can't we have a nurse that isn't incompetent." (DH believes this comment is why we were held up on check-out later in the day) A different nurse comes in to tell me they are taking me to surgery and to take off my panties/pad. I ask her if I should just bleed on the bed, or is there a pad or something? She says, "I don't know, they just told me to tell you to get ready for surgery."

I change and sit on the bed. An orderly comes and I get on the gurney and I'm wheeled (DH accompanies me) to surgery. We then meet Suzanne, a godsend of a nurse. She is calm, patient, understanding, caring and KNOWS WHY WE ARE THERE! She asks if I have "party panties" (The hospitals disposable panties) or a pad on. I tell her no and explain the awfulness upstairs. She calms us down and explains everything. The anesthesiologist comes in and is amazing too. They both have been touched by d & c and loss before and are reassuring and kind. He is unable to get an IV started in my right hand but does get one started in my right forearm. He is super apologetic and nice the whole time.

Dr. K shows up and again expresses her compassion for us. I then gave DH a kiss, started crying and was wheeled to surgery. I remember moving over to the surgery table and that is it. I woke up in recovery. Suzanne was there. Dr. K came in to check on me and then filled DH in as I was out of it.

Dr. K told DH it was good I had the D & C. There were so much blood and clots that she estimated it could have taken 2-3 weeks to completely miscarry naturally, and it would have been painful the whole time (like it was Thur/Fri/Sat.) She said that the baby had already started to deteriorate, but that she had collected the tissue for genetic testing, and we would have the results in a month.

In recovery I cramped quite badly, as they had given me pitocin to have my uterus cramp and stop bleeding. While in recovery I asked my surgery nurse if I had to go back to that room/awful nurses. She called someone and took care of it. I went up to my old room, and we got my stuff and then I was taken to a new room with a fabulous, caring nurse and nurse aide. We had to wait around about 2 hours to be discharged as there was only 1 discharge nurse working on 2 floors.

I came home and took it easy the rest of that night and on Sunday.

I have times that I don't remember that I miscarried and for that brief moment I'm blissfully happy, like I was. Then reality, the nightmare, hits. It hurts so much. I have been given a list of therapists that specialize in miscarriage/grief/loss counseling and I'm trying to get in with one of them. My head is swimming. It's hard to process this loss with my parents visiting. I'm glad they are here, but I think it would be easier if they weren't. They leave tomorrow and I go back to work tomorrow. I hope that will help.

I woke up from my nap yesterday crying. It's just so hard, unfair and crappy. I miss my little baby. I feel empty. I am so grateful for my DH right now. He's been great, but I know he is hurting too.

We have so many holiday events we are hosting/attending this week. I feel like I should just carry on with them. I don't want to have to explain to people that don't know about this pg or miscarriage why they are cancelled. At the same time, I want to crawl in a hole and not come out for months.