...Was supposed to be the happiest day of 2014. The day we were to "hear"
Baby Snell #2s heartbeat. But that didn't happen. Nope, instead it started a series of blood tests, ultrasounds, and lots of time waiting. I knew immediately something was wrong when she said "Well it looks like you're 5 days 5 weeks." Me: "That can't be right. I was that almost 3 weeks ago when I went in to check my HCG levels, and that doesn't add up when my last period was???" The lady didn't really know what to say. She was convinced it was just an early pregnancy. I was to meet the doctor afterwards so she had us wait in this room right outside all the ultrasound rooms. All the rooms that had horses racing aka baby heartbeats. Me. Terrified. We wait for an hour. Do you know how long 1 hour is when you're awaiting such news? The look on my face was pure shock and frankly terrified. Ryan kept trying to get me to relax and was convinced the doctor would clear up everything. We finally were moved into a room where we answered questions with the nurse. I watched her type in pregnancy confirmation...5 weeks 5 days. That is when I retold her everything. She looked confused and I lost it. Uncontrollable tears. I wanted answers and it was taking forever to get them. I excused myself to the restroom and upon my return we were ushered to the doctor's office. We.Waited.Again. Then finally he came in. I had to explain everything OVER again. He went through a bunch of explanations of things it could be or what could be going on. What our next steps were, etc. He was very kind, but didn't sugar coat anything.
Lost it again.
On the way out with my bag of "Congratulations You're Pregnant Bag" in hand, I had to stop and give blood.
Blood Lady, "Name?"..."Birth date"..."Which Arm"...
Yes, that blunt, that unfriendly. She missed, moved the needle around, never got any blood and left me with an immediate hematoma.
Next Arm...she got after a minute. Took the needle out, placed a bandage on and NEVER.SAID. A.WORD.
I walked out and blood started immediately pouring down my arm. So I had to go back in, get it cleaned it up, SHE still said nothing, and I left. The pure rudeness did me in. I lost it again.
I bawled in Ryan's arms for a good ten minutes. We immediately started messaging close friends and family to pray for us. They did. I know, I felt it. Many just knew God would perform a miracle or that this was all just a technology mistake. Firmly believed everything would turn out okay. Heck I did too!
More waiting began. That was a Thursday. We had to wait until Monday morning to do the second round of blood work to see if my numbers were doubling and if it was in fact a technology mistake. Monday came and went. Blood work done. No phone call.
We really believed.
April 15, 2014
Tuesday morning I began calling at 8 a.m. the nurse called around 9:30 stating it wasn't looking good and that the doctor would call me as soon as possible, but that he wanted me to have a heads up that my numbers didn't double/triple like they should've.
So I waited until 3:30ish when I finally heard from him myself that there was no hope. No chance. The baby stopped growing. To me this was the day the miscarriage happened. I'll never know the exact day things went South, but this day was it for me.
He still wanted me to go in for my already scheduled ultrasound on Thursday where I watched a screen that showed where there once was a sack was no longer even there. Then more blood work and yes more waiting. By this time it was Easter weekend. The office was closed for Good Friday. SO I awaited the results of whether or not my body was taking care of things on its own or if I needed surgery.
Monday 8 a.m. the call came. Looks like your levels are rising (in my mind this was my last chance of hope). I still believed in a miracle. He proceeded with how this happens and causes things to draw out for weeks (up to that point I had still seen NO blood since my last period Feb. 19th).
...I'm not sure God's plan, but a miracle wasn't it. No technology mistake. No baby.
I informed him this could not drag out for weeks and he absolutely without hesitation said "I really need to get you in ASAP." The next morning at 5:45 was ASAP. That day was so surreal, the whole experience really. I made arrangements for Aubree and myself. Tuesday came and went. Oh and I went in for one last ultrasound, my choice, just to make sure.
The surgery (D&C) was horrible. The
whole experience. Great nurses, great doctors. Drugs made me cray, cray. It happened so fast. I woke up lost and confused, stating I didn't know what happened. Good thing. They told me recovery was a day. That was an absolute lie. I went to work the next day, but if you ever have to go through this, which I pray you don't... Do not go to work the next day. Or day after that. Or day after that. Don't stay in bed forever, but trust me when I say I didn't lay in bed any day but the first and it all came crashing down 3 days later. I felt horrible all in between, but pressed through. However, fever and pure exhaustion hit in an unexplainable way that left me in bed all day that Saturday. I would have Sunday to if I could have as well.
We tried 8 months. We finally made a baby. We lost it.
I know MANY people have way worse situations/stories. Longer wait periods, etc. I'm not making light of anyone's story. But this is ours. Ours to mourn. Ours to move on from.
Tomorrow will be two weeks. No one mentions it much anymore. Everyone else moves on way before I'm ready to. Maybe that's good. Maybe I should too...I still cry a lot, I don't mean to. But to me that baby was a boy. His precious nursery was planned, baseball themed of course. My mornings were spent pinning ideas on pinterest since March 25th.
There is a lesson to be learned, a revelation to be seen. All of the above. I know this. I'll, in my own time, be fine.
Loss sucks no matter if you ever met the person or not. Never take it for granted!
