My Worst Nightmare
When we went to the doctor on Tuesday for our big 10 week appointment, I knew something was wrong.
I called the day before expressing concern over symptoms I recognized from previous miscarriages. They were minor, so we all decided that everything was fine and there was no need to panic. I would just wait and come in as scheduled first thing Tuesday. Over the next 24 hours I just kept asking Mark, “Everything is fine, right? You think it’s okay, don’t you?”
Overnight my symptoms increased. As I drove to the office, I knew it was too late but prayed over and over and over that I was wrong. When we arrived, they had a diaper bag and welcome kit all prepared for us. Big smiles and lots of talk about baby and delivery hospitals and all sorts of things. They could tell I was anxious to have an ultrasound and they kept us distracted while they rushed in the ultrasound tech.
We talked to several staff members and had a tour as we waited for our turn. We could hear the heartbeat of the patient before us. We anxiously prayed we would hear our own soon. Everyone assured us everything was fine. After what seemed like an eternity, the tech called us back to the ultrasound room. It was filled with cute nursery decorations. I tried to distract myself. I wanted to puke. I knew
Right away, we found the baby. We waited as the tech struggled to get a better angle. “Just a second,” she said. She could already tell that we were in trouble and tried to keep us calm.
Finally we confirmed there was no heartbeat. Our little nugget measured 8.5 weeks—it should’ve measured 10.5. And it wasn’t moving
We quickly tried another ultrasound just to make sure. It was confirmed. No heartbeat.
Immediately following, we met with the doctor to schedule the emergency D&C for the next day. We all sat there crying. We were devastated. We left the diaper bag and the welcome kit in our chair as we left the office in tears.
This was supposed to be an exciting day. Instead it was a nightmare. Everything we have worked for and prayed for—gone. Taken from us.
After 2 previous (very) early miscarriages this year and a year and a half of fertility treatment—we thought this was it. Up until this point everything had gone perfectly.
We have decided to send off tissue for genetic testing and next month I will undergo further tests myself. My doctor and I are confident that we can figure this out.