Thursday, April 4, 2013

Number 3! But with extra bleeding! UPDATED

So, as I feared, the nascent gestational sac is still quite small and pretty much empty.  Oh, and it's very much in the wrong place, closer to my cervix than anything else.

I knew this was going sideways last evening, when I lost about a pint of blood and had bad cramping.  No amount of googling stories about how that didn't really mean anything to the fate of a pregnancy could convince me that this was going to work.

The awesome thing is that the US detected a lot MORE blood in my uterus.  In fact, it's full.  Cervix is still long and closed, though, so this could take a while.  The only thing that's for certain is that it's going to be messy.

To explain how truly awesome my evening was last night, I have to paint a bit of a picture:
- My husband is in Paris, and getting on a plane at 3am EST to return home.
- I am hosting my cousins and their 19 month old for a playdate.  And my cousin's wife? Of course she is 7 months pregnant.
- I start to feel cramping so retreat to the bathroom.  Blood.  And lots.  I dig up a pad from somewhere in the bathroom and wait until they leave.
- While bathing my son, I spend most of the time watching him while sitting on the toilet hoping I don't pass out.
- I get him to bed and call the RE's office.  I get the really annoying medical fellow who, when she is done hearing my tale of woe and giving me instructions, says "OK, have a great evening"
- I'm still worried about an ectopic and am soaking through a pad an hour, so call her back two hours later.  I'm wondering how I will make a trip to the ER, so I get my babysitter ready to come over if I need her.  She is a saint. (But I feel very awkward.) Thankfully, the bleeding slows by 11 so no ER trip necessary.  But I have a moment of panic that I am internally bleeding and am going to be found dead in a pool of my own blood.
- I'm also out of pads, so wondering what I am going to do.  Then I remember I have a nearly endless supply of diapers!  And nighttime diapers! And pull-ups!  I get a variety of diapers, the scissors and some cloth medical tape ready in case I need to do some emergency arts and crafts.
- I have nice sheets that are white, so I decide the best solution is to sleep on the extra waterproof crib mattress pad.  It's not that comfortable, actually, as it is designed to be fitted around a crib mattress.  But thankfully I don't destroy it or my bedding.

So, yeah.  Loads of scary blood, pregnant people, solo parenting, and a lack of sanitary products. Oh, and I pretty much lost the pregnancy, although we knew that was happening.  Was over all a fabulous evening.

Today, my husband is home and I am going to curl up and do nothing.  Except maybe eat a cupcake.  And cry.  Because I am nearing the end of my rope and I am about to turn 43.  It was not supposed to happen this way.

UPDATE:  Sonafab*tch. My HCG went from 2199 on Monday to over 8000 today.  My stupid body doesn't know I am miscarrying. More bloodwork today and then may have to help this along.  Motherf*er. Can this not be easy???? 

13 comments:

  1. Oh, oh, oh. I'm so sorry. I really did have high hopes for this one.

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  2. I am just so sorry. Sending you lots of love.

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  3. That is all so fucking collosally unfair and awful that I hardly know where to start.

    I certainly hope that, at a minimum, that fellow winced as she heard that phrase come out of her mouth. (Reminds me of our chipper church secretary, who when my mom called to add her father's name to the prayer list for all soul's day (when we pray for the dead, in this case the recently dead), said, "oh, isn't that wonderful!" Um, not really, actually. Thanks for playing.)

    I am so very sorry about all of this. You deserve, among other things, a medal.

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  4. Oh god. I am so terribly, terribly sorry. It sounds like the most heartwrenching, gruesome version of a horrible experience. Pretty much just broken-hearted for you guys.

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  5. I am so sad to read this, and so very sorry. It's horrible, and unfair, and - you're right - not supposed to be this way at all. I can't imagine getting through all of that while hosting others. Bad enough getting through it WITHOUT having to put a brave face on. I was so hoping that it was just a matter of dates being off (hence my previous, and likely annoying, comment) and everything being hunky dory in the end (despite everything, I'm still a sucker for those ends-well tales).

    This part is so hard. I'm thinking of you. And just so freaking sorry.

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  6. So sorry to read this. Thinking of you. xoxo

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  7. I am so incredibly sorry for this. I hate that your pregnant cousins were there. I hate that you had to worry for your own safety on top of the loss. I hate that there's more gore to come before this is over. But mainly I am just so, so sorry for the loss and everything it represents. I'm thinking of you and wishing you courage and at least some silver linings in the rough days/weeks to come.

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  8. Ugh...what an effin shit show!! Nothing worse than going through a m/c ALONE while caring for a toddler! I'm so very very sorry. Big hug.

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  9. Will email you offline. This is unreal on so many levels. I am heartbroken for your loss and for this drawn out horror show. Hoping for dropping numbers and bleeding that subsides quickly. All too much to face, but especially all at once.

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  10. Oh no. This is so awful and unfair. I'm so sorry.

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  11. Ah man. You really do get the only-in-the-movies shitty luck sometimes. I am so sorry. Sending you lots of love.

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  12. This is f-ing awful and I'm soo sorry. And to jot have big B there is even worse. I wish I could've been there to help. Sending big hugs. Hope that hcg gets back down fast without too much discomfort. Thinking of you. Xoxo.

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