Jennifer..I thought the exact same thing.
All I wanted was somebody to talk to...somebody that had gone through the same thing.
I needed to hear I was not alone...but I also needed to be alone.
I needed to be alone with my pain...I needed to be able to escape it and not have to confront the sadness and pity in people's eyes.
I needed somebody to hold my hand and explain how everything would unravel. I needed to hear how sad I would feel...how painful it would be. I needed to discuss the different things that would happen to my body.
BUT I ended up alone...my husband tried...and he was 100% supportive...but I was alone.
I had been waiting for the 10-12 week point to tell...so nobody in my entourage knew I was pregnant. At 5 weeks there was some spotting, which continued every few days. I had very slight cramping on a few occasions. My doctor sent me in every few days for a blood test...to check the pregnancy hormone levels...they were good...and increasing. At 7 and a half weeks, my doctor sent me in for a "Viability Ultrasound" (awful name). My ultrasound technician couldn't find the heartbeat so she brought in the awful, awful, head of obstetrics at the hospital...who basically said "Ok...there is no heartbeat" The baby had no heartbeat. I sobbed...so deeply my heart ached. The doctor looked uncomfortable, then 2 seconds later said she had to leave to check the triplets in the next room. She came back and immediately asked me if I had decided what I was going to do next. I asked her what my options were...she coldly spit out "D&C, pill, or wait for it to happen". I could have screamed, but I didn't. She insisted on booking a D&C. I wanted to think about it and talk to my doctor. At that point, I felt that they might have missed the heartbeat...that in getting a D&C I would be killing my baby. I felt fiercely protective. I saw my doctor who was horrified at the treatment I had received. She went over each of the 3 options carefully. She explained that I could wait for it to happen on its own...but that that it could take weeks. I didn't think I could hold it together for that long...it had already been over 3 weeks. My daughter was 18 months old at the time...I didn't want to bathe her little life in sadness. I couldn't do the D&C...I had ruled it out immediately. I wasn't strong enough and I still wanted some time to make sure it was real...that the baby was no longer alive. I asked if my doctor thought the "pill" option was ok. She smiled gently and said whatever I decided was good. She prescribed the pills and explained, in detail, what was going to happen. Before I left...I had to ask her if she thought that there was a possibility that they might have missed the heartbeat. She said it was impossible. It should have been obvious at that point of the baby's development.
I waited almost a week...the light spotting turned to heavy spotting. I knew the baby was gone. I started the pills. I took the first pill in the morning...I felt some cramping...but only light. I watched cartoons with my daughter. My husband stayed home that day...he took her outside to play in the backyard after my second pill (just after lunch). The cramping was more intense...like contractions...every 30-60 minutes. I took the 3rd pill and the contractions were more frequent...every 5 minutes or so. I was lying in my bed...it was a beautiful day...I could hear my daughter laughing in the backyard. A few minutes later, they came inside to check on me. As they were walking up the stairs, I smiled at something my daughter was saying and then I felt a sharp pain, deep inside and then instant relief. My daughter jumped on the bed...my husband was holding my hand. I realized that some liquid had come out. I got up and went to the bathroom. I knew...I held a small, sterilized container under as I sat above the toliet...it came out (sorry for being so graphic). I cried as I studied the contents. I transferred it to the container my doctor had given me (she was going to have it analyzed). I held it up to the light...I saw my baby. I sobbed. My baby had 2 tiny little "arms" and 2 tiny little "legs" and a relatively big head...in total no bigger than, maybe 1 to 1 1/2 cm. i called my husband in...he took one look at the contained...one look at me and cried. I asked him to take a photo. (I know...sounds morbid...but I needed to) I called the doctor, but it was too late to go to the office. I was told to keep the container in the fridge. I must have touched that container 40 or 50 times in the space of 24 hours. I talked to it...telling the baby everything would be ok. (I swear I am not mentally unstable...nor was I at the time). The next day..I got a little cooler...put icepacks at the bottom and top...lined the bottom with paper towels and carefully placed the container inside. I cried as I said goodbye....as I placed bubble wrap around it so it wouldn't get jostled around during the car ride. I wrote a note for the doctor...I couldn't go. In the note, I explained what had happened. I asked several questions...the one that had everyone concerned was "can we have the baby back after the tests"? The doctor explained that the "fetus" would have to be completely dissected...I had already read that on the internet..but I had to ask.
Since I had apparently passed all the contents of my uterus, I did not require a D&C, as is sometimes the case. It was over.
The teast results came back and all the contents had indeed been passed and there were no abnormalities in the fetus.
My doctor then sent me in for a battery of tests...but nothing was really wrong. She explained that some of my vitamin levels were slightly low...some hormone levels were off...but nothing significant. She put together a plan of action (truckloads of vitamin supplements and pills) and explained that when I felt the time was right...after the 2 cycle waiting period...I would try again...with this plan.
It worked...a little over a year later we welcomed our lovely daughter Cara!
We hadn't told anyone about the pregnancy...but I eventually told my mother and sister...my husband's family. I was upset, but not surprised at everyone's reaction.
No one was mourning my baby!
I didn't want to hear.."you already have a beautiful daughter"..."or you'll try again"!
I needed to mourn.
My doctor, her secretary and my husband's family thought...that I needed to see a therapist or psychologist...but I knew I would be ok...I had to do this my way.
I am ok...