After finding out I was miscarrying on January 4th because I was bleeding, it suddenly stopped as quickly as it had started. So I waited, and waited, and went to work to try to distract myself. On Thursday night one of my best friends gave birth and I completely lost it, I cried myself to sleep that night. On Friday at 4 am I took my first dose of Cytotec to try to induce the bleeding. By 7 am I was bleeding. It was not very painful and it was heavy, but I did not see any of the tissue or uterine lining that I had been told to look for. In the next 4 day I took Cytotec 3 more times in hope of avoiding a D&C, something desperately wanted to avoid. I was leaving for a business trip in a few days and had told my midwives as much. They said if I went without having miscarried fully then I was going against doctors’ orders. I told them there was no way I was not going. I needed that weekend to get away from my room, my bathroom, my house, which had become my prison. I wanted to be in control of something, even if it was just a small weekend meeting it was something I could manage. It was also in Orlando, right next to Disney Springs and thus a place where I could get away, recharge, and be someone else, not just the lady who just lost her baby.
Based on everything that was happening the midwives decided I probably needed a D&C and scheduled an appointment for me to meet with a GYN on the Wednesday before I left for my trip. The plan, although they were not happy with it was to have my D&C the Monday after I got back. The GYN was great, she was an older lady, retired from her OB work but working closely with the midwives for these situations. We talked about my need to not have a D&C and why I was going on my ill-advised trip. She did an exam and said she saw some stuff in there but not a lot, I asked her to pull as much out as she could while she was there. It was not pleasant but I would guess it was better than having the D&C, more like a really uncomfortable pap. She said based on the huge drop in my betas and what she had seen that I did not need a D&C. So I went on my trip, bleeding heavily again after what she had done, but still not too badly. I worked all weekend but managed to have some fun in the evenings. I went to dinner the night I arrived with two of my AV guys. We found an Irish pub and sat outside. I drank two large glasses of stout and sang Irish drinking songs until midnight; it was exactly what I needed. The next morning I got up and did what I do. It was a small meeting but it had some technical intricacies and logistical challenges, all in all the attendees were happy and everything went smoothly.
A week later I took another pregnancy test, it was still positive. That same day I passed a piece of tissue, and a few hours later after going to my barre class I passed a very large piece of uterine lining. That started the heavy bleeding process again. Another week passed and another positive test, there was something about Thursdays, that's when everything seemed to happen. After taking the test I went to get up and heard a plop. It was the gestational sac. It was open and empty, but that is what it was. I hoped that passing the sack was the end of it. Another week went by and finally a negative test, and then my period hit. I finally stopped bleeding 49 days after it all started. The bleeding gets old quickly. You can't wear tampons when miscarrying and pads are like torture. You also can’t take a bath due to the possibility of infection while dilated. At one point I was so sore form the pads and the constant wiping that I had to shower to clean myself because toilet paper hurt and wipes stung.
Until it happens to you, you think a miscarriage early on is not that devastating, it’s just like a period right? No. I wish I could accurately describe the absolutely gut wrenching despair that it causes. Immediately after finding out it was just utter despair, I kept telling my husband “I feel emotionally broken” and then it was the waiting that was even worse. Waiting to bleed, waiting to pass tissue, waiting for the negative test. Now it’s the constant lump in my throat, the short cry on the drive to work, or the tears rolling down my cheeks at the gym. It hits you at the weirdest times and you have no control. Someone said it’s a creeping sadness, and that’s the best way to describe it. It’s like ivy taking over a house, slowly creeping upwards, digging its roots into anything it can, and holding on tight waiting to either be pulled from the house and having to start its journey upward anew or invade the mortar underneath only to make it crumble overtime. I’m hoping there is a third option; I want to burn the ivy so it won’t return, but where do I start?
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