I’m sorry.

They took us back into the exam room. We sat in chairs next to each other and the nurse went over a series of questions. I was 10 weeks and 4 days according to babies measurements from the last couple appointments, according to my LMP I would have been over 11 weeks. The nurse left and we sat together, and for a moment I felt happiness, it was nice to have him with me.

The doctor came in and said we would see if we could hear the heartbeat today. She hadn’t tried with the Doppler before this because she said it would be too early. My first appointment she measured by ultrasound and it was 160, the second appointment it was 134. I was looking forward to hearing the heartbeat, I could remember the joy it brought when I first heard my daughters.

She tried and after a few minutes she said it must still be too soon. We were able to do a abdominal ultrasound my second appointment so she tried that next. She wasn’t able to get a good picture, and that’s when my worry started, but I was still confused. What was happening?

She asked me to undress from the waste down so that we could do a transvaginal ultrasound.

After a few moments she was able to find the baby. I felt peace. I was waiting for that moment. Everything was okay.

“I’m not seeing a heartbeat…” the doctor started. “I’m sorry,” she said as she continued searching around. She measured the baby, “…looks like it’s measuring 9 weeks and 1 day..” The room never felt so small. I couldn’t understand. Everything was happening so fast. She said, “I’m going to have to get the on-call specialist and have her take a look.” and she left the room.

I sat with baby’s dad, who started questioning me. “What does this mean? What’s happening?” I don’t even remember what all he said, but I remember feeling completely numb.

The tool she used for the ultrasound had blood on it. That was the first I had seen any blood. My heart was breaking.

My doctor came back in with a lady dressed in all blue. She started with the transvaginal ultrasound again. She found the baby and started to try and measure the heartbeat. Nothing.

Next thing I know we were being sat down, “The next step from here is to think about whether you would like to do a D & C surgery, pass naturally, or we can give you some pills,” the doctor went into further detail, but all I could see was her mouth moving. How did this happen. She told us, “1 in 4 pregnancies end in miscarriage and often it’s due to genetics and there’s nothing you did wrong or could have done to prevent this.”

The doctors left and baby’s dad said, “Is there nothing else they can do? Is this really it?”

I couldn’t believe it either.

He comforted me, and when we walked out to my car he hugged me and said he wished he didn’t have to leave. For once he was really there for me. But he was leaving for Vegas that day, he had to go for a work conference. He would be gone until Monday.

He left and I got in my car to drive home. My car wouldn’t start. Driving over that metal post and tire had in fact done damage. I felt cursed.

March 22nd will be a day I remember for the rest of my life. The worst day, the most painful day, a day I never want to relive.

 

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