It's really happening..

My husband and I went home (we live about a 2 min drive from the hospital) and layed down to take a short nap. My husband held me as I cried myself to sleep. He just kept whispering that things could still be okay, and that we would get though this and he loved me. My heart was being ripped apart, but I still remember the love and tenderness in his voice as he tried to comfort me.  Eventually I fell asleep.

We woke up in an hour and a half, and got dressed to go to the ultrasound. I was already feeling a sense of doom. My bleeding had turned red, and it was more frequent that the night before. In my heart I knew I was losing the pregnancy. I just couldn't admit it to myself. I tried to get myself emotionally prepared to hear the worst. I thought I was all cried out. I thought wrong.

When we got to the hospital, I was told my husband couldn't come in with me. I had to go in alone. What kind of horrible policy makes a woman face the worst moments of her life completely alone with a stranger? It still makes me angry to think of myself, so helpless and vulnerable, having to get up the courage to walk in there, undress, get on the table, and lay there waiting by myself. My heart breaks for all the women who came before me, and those who will go after me. That is a feeling no one should have to feel alone.

The ultrasound technician came in, and did an internal ultrasound. I knew right away that something was wrong. She kept asking if I was "sure of my dates". Of course I was. Of course my doctor was! Then she brought in the radiologist who also did an ultrasound. He kept talking to the technician as if I wasn't there.

"Well, I see the yolk sac he said, and the gestational sac." No mention of a heartbeat, and I knew that by 10 almost 11 weeks if there was a baby, they would see it. I could feel tears welling up in my eyes as they continued to talk. Not saying anything to me, leaving me to guess what they were seeing. My heart was shattering into a million pieces and my husband wasn't even able to be there holding my hand. I have never felt more desolate and alone than in those moments.

Worse still, was when they finished, and I had to walk out to my husband and pretty much tell him what they had said. He looked so hopeful when I came out, and I had to be the one to tell him I was pretty sure there was no hope. They made us wait in the waiting room, with babies and pregnant women while the radiologist wrote a letter to the doctor that I was then to take upstairs to the ER. A half an hour later we got it and headed over.

At the ER it took them an hour to get us in to see the doctor. I cried the entire time. My husband wrapped his arms around me and I lost it in front of the entire emergency room. Once we got in to the doctor we had to wait a few minutes and I was able to regain my composure. I thought for sure this time I was all cried out. The doctor came in, a young male doctor. He sat down beside me and told me what had happened.

Apparently I was having a missed miscarriage or blighted ovum. He explained that while all the support systems and the gestational sac had developed, that the baby had either died very early on, or had failed to develop. The gestational sac was measuring 6 weeks though, he said hopefully, that he had seen cases like these turn out alright. I burst into tears because knew without a doubt I was 10 weeks 6 days. There was no way my dates were off by a whole month. He said he would have a nurse come in to draw blood and he would call me that afternoon to let me know the results of the beta hcg test. I was still bawling. I cried through the whole blood taking, I cried all the way to the car.

I cried as I dialed my moms phone number and told her the news. Her and my father kept reassuring me that things would work out, and I kept telling them that they wouldn't. At one point my father, who meant well said "You need to calm down, just take care of yourself and that will take care of the baby." I just kept saying 'there is no baby'. I eventually calmed down, and we drove home to wait.