There may be another thread for this but a couple of weeks ago when I was kind of looking for "miscarriage stories", I found them a bit scarce so I thought I'd start a thread to share which may help others going through this. I thought I'd start with my last couple of weeks.
I noticed I was spotting one Saturday evening. It's uncommon for me (only happened in one other preg which turned out fine) but I had been very stressed and busy so I thought it was a reminder to slow down. The spotting was kind of brownish mucus.
I rested off and on during Sunday, then saw the Doc on Monday. I thought I'd get him to check the heartbeat and if I was reassured about that, I'd go to bed and rest properly.
He couldn't find a heartbeat on his little U/S machine and prepared me for the worst. He pointed out that in 99% of cases, he would get a heartbwat at 12 weeks if I was sure of my dates, which I was. I was devastated. He told me that he couldn't be 100% without referring me to a proper U/S which, as our town is small, would be Wednesday. Otherwise I could have travelled an hour away for one.
I felt that the wait didn't make much difference. I prepared myself for the worst. DH was excellent, as was my SIL who had come to the Doc with me and I told my Mum, too. I didn't want to go out as we know everyone in our community and, as the preg was just becoming public knowledge, kind people were continually coming up to congratulate us.
The hardest bit was in the waiting room before the U/S on Wed. I didn't know whether to hope for a miracle or prepare myself for confirmation of my fears. The lady used both the normal and vaginal U/Ss to be sure but to no avail. Her diagnosis was that the baby looked to be 9-10 weeks old, 2 weeks younger than I knew my dates to be.
I asked to see the baby on the screen and then whether I could take a photo with my phone. She wouldn't let me but offered to send the screenshot as a photo (to the Doc, I assumed). She assured me that she'd email the results straight to the Doc.
I rang Doc later. He offered to book me into surgery that Friday. I felt that was too soon - I was still bleeding and hoped I would miscarriage naturally.
I found that I could now tell people that we had lost the baby when people commented on the pregnancy, though it was strange when the actual miscarriage was still in progress. Some ladies who had had miscarriages where very helpful with advice about what they had done.
By the following Tuesday, I realised that this was unlikely to happen naturally in the near future and I was starting to require closure. I saw Doc on Wed and he referred me to a larger hospital (as a Grand Multi Para) where I met the Obgyn on Thursday afternoon and came back for a D&C (dilation, suction and curette) on the Friday. At my consultation, I discussed whether it would be possible to take the baby for burial. She pointed out, very gently and diplomatically, that the baby would not be whole after the procedure and I agreed that it would probably be best not to worry.
At the hospital, after fasting all morning, I had a Cervigen pessiary inserted to ripen my cervix before the process. It needed a couple of hours min to work and I had brought my laptop and got heaps of work done!
I was dressed in a hospital gown and was wheeled down to theatre. I felt really nervous and a bit teary while I waited outside the actual theatre. I tried to treasure the last moments I had little Indiana still inside me but fiund it difficult to concentrate as I was so worried.
The anesthetist came out to see me and put a canular in my arm. He was really lively and chatty. He left me and came back a little later. He put a vial on the canular and said that it was just something to relax me before I went into theatre.
I woke up later in the recovery ward! I didn't even remember feeling sleepy! I didn't fell sore, just a bit sleepy still, which wore off later. They checked my obs every half hour three times then I was right to go. The second set of obs had my blood pressure low but I had plenty more to eat and drink and they improved the next time.
The Obgyn visited and brought with her the remains of the baby in a container. I was so grateful. I could actually have something to bury.
I had brought my daughter to drive me home (on her Ls but they overlooked that) and I felt absolutely fine, emotionally and everything. It was like a weight off me. It was a pity we had a flat tyre on the way home, but thats another story ...
I felt able to put a message on Facebook with the U/S photo of Indiana. It just said thank you for the support we'd received after losing our baby at 9 weeks gestation. I thought that it might be the easiest way of spreading the word so that well meaning friends and rellies dont fell they've put their foot in it by asking how bub's going etc.
I contacted our local Priest, a friend of ours, and he will come to our house for a short ceremony tomorrow. It will just be us and Mum and Dad (DHs parents are both deceased). One of my elder daughters has made a cardboard box for the baby's remains and the younger children have written messages on it and helped decorate it.
This morning I bought a tree from the local nursery which will bloom around the baby's due date and which is named Indian Summer (similar to the baby's name, Indiana) which we will plant over the grave.
Afterwards, we'll have arvo tea inside and some of H's birthday cake (he was 2 today).
I feel like I've done everything I can for our little one. I also found it a good way to lead into a discussion about death with my younger children. My elder kids are trickier. The eldest at 17 is grossed out by the baby in the fridge. The third at 15 finds the whole conversation about the baby upsetting.
I know there may be TMI here but hope this may be of assistance to others going through this.