And I mean the Good (is there any?), the Bad, and the Ugly (there’s a lot of that). July 4th weekend started off like any other Friday. I turned exactly 12 weeks pregnant, so I had Austin take my picture, which turned out great because I felt pretty bloated after work. Hello tiny baby bump. Then we packed up for our friend’s house in Tulsa and hit the road. (Not before going to my sister’s house to borrow her “Bump’s First Fourth” shirt though).
We arrived at our friend’s house and everything was going well. Austin and I were both not drinking but no one asked any questions. We get in the nice pool and relax in there for a good 3-4 hours. Around 11:30 pm we get out, I take a shower to warm up and get dressed. I put the big reveal tank top on underneath another shirt to take off when it was the right time. Around 12:30 am we had everyone at one table, so I walked back to our room to take of my t-shirt over the tank and soak in everyone’s reactions. But before I could do that, I had to use the restroom. I sat down and noticed a spot of blood at the front of my underwear. I honestly almost overlooked it and then remembered I’m not supposed to have a period, much less any bleeding while pregnant. So, I go on to wipe and there’s a little more blood. So, I texted Austin to come back to our room right away. Thankfully, he arrived very swiftly. I showed him my underwear and internally started to freak out. The first thing we both did was start googling what it could’ve been, and I also texted my sister, “SOS are you awake?” I remember looking up at him and through tears, asked if we could just go home. After googling and focusing on just the positive results, we decided that my cervix may have just been irritated the day before and that caused the “spotting.” I decided to not come back out of the room and just go straight to bed. However, Austin did rejoin the party to not make it look too suspicious. While I laid there in the lush white bed all I could think to calm my nerves enough to sleep was “I’m okay, the baby’s okay; I’m okay, the baby’s okay; I’m okay, the baby’s okay.” Which eventually did allow me to sleep until 2:30 am. I got out of bed then to assess if the bleeding got worse or stayed the same, and it seemed consistent, which meant I didn’t show any more spots in my underwear, just when I wiped. So, I fell asleep more peacefully betting on the fact that it was due to my irritated cervix.
The next morning, I woke up and was still wiping away blood when I went to the restroom, so I decided to just call the on-call doctor for their expert opinion. I explained everything I saw and felt, and she agreed it was my cervix being irritated (from recent intercourse if you haven’t figured that one out yet). So, I gave Austin my blessing to leave to go golfing with his friends and I got ready for a pool day with the girls. After Austin was gone and I had all the girls together, I explained to them why I went to sleep early and just came out of the room. I told them I was pregnant, (which received excited reactions) then mentioned I had a rough night because of the bleeding, but we called my doctor and felt pretty confident we were okay. After breakfast we decided to start our pool day. I think I sat in the pool from 11 am - 6 pm or later. Austin told the guys while golfing that we were pregnant, too. I went to the bathroom throughout the day and tried not to think about the blood each time I wiped. Ignorance is bliss, right? For dinner that night, I went ahead and slipped on the Bump’s First Fourth shirt to celebrate since everyone there now knew about our little secret. Around 10:30 pm I grew pretty tired and decided to just sneak off to bed and Austin went to watch fireworks with everyone outside.
I slept through the night until about 8:30 am, which is when I had the overwhelming feeling of having to pee. When I stood up and got to the bathroom door, I felt the heaviness of blood that was about to spill out. So, I hurried to sit on the toilet, so I wouldn’t make a mess and that’s when I noticed the amount of blood that came out of me and what was in my underwear. (Thankfully, none in the pretty white bed). At this point, I had a feeling there must’ve been a bigger explanation for what was happening. I dared not to say the “M” word out loud, but everything on google was making me feel worse. I got on the phone with the hospital at 8:40 am and waited twenty minutes sitting on the toilet for the doctor to call me back. I explained the increased amount of blood and slight pressure I was feeling in my lower abdomen, but she still wasn’t convinced it was a miscarriage. I told her we were in Tulsa and were an hour and a half away so we would be heading straight to the women’s hospital. She said she’d let them know we were coming. I now had Austin run to the store for some pads because I wasn’t going to be able to stand up from the toilet without one. He surprised me with some chocolate covered blueberries too. We left the house without saying bye to anyone as everyone was asleep. We were set to arrive at the hospital around 11 am. We made a pit stop at McDonald’s and the turnpike gas station so I could use the restroom and buy Austin a mask for the hospital. Thankfully, my pad was not filled with blood, which was one of the signs that the doctor told us to watch for, so I started to feel hopeful again. However, I remember noting intense pain, almost like contractions at 9:55 am that would come back every 5-10 minutes. My lower back was also in a lot of discomfort, but I didn’t tell Austin because I didn’t want to scare him.
We arrived at the hospital at 11:15 am and were, what felt like, the only ones there. A security guard let us in past the waiting room where we checked in nonchalantly at the nurses’ desk. There was a polite nurse-in-training checking us in who eventually asked if I needed to use the restroom to which I replied yes and another nurse doing some charting, whom we will come to know very well. So, the trainee gave me a urine sample container and I walked over to the bathroom. I looked down at my pad when I went to the restroom and noticed even less blood, so I was still feeling pretty hopeful. I collected the sample they needed, wiped, stood up, washed my hands, and opened the door to ask if I needed to leave the sample in the bathroom. This is the district moment that “shit hit the fan.” When I spun around to leave the sample in the restroom something inside me released and what felt like a medium-sized sonic drink of pink water rushed out of my shorts. I yelled out for Austin and ran back to the toilet to sit down. I was balling at this point out of fear and confusion. Three nurses rushed in, the first of which being Shelbey (the nurse who was charting before), who asked them to call for an ultrasound right then so it would be ready by the time we got to our room. She helped me stand up and guided me over to a wheelchair then wheeled me to room 4 or 5. In the room, I removed my bottom half of clothing and got onto the bed that was packed with towels to soak up all the blood that would soon saturate them. Over the next 15 or so minutes, we waited for the ultrasound tech to arrive. Shelbey kept us company and talked with us while checking all my vitals. The ultrasound tech then arrived and started to glide over my stomach with the monitor pointed away from me, but just enough where Austin could still see it. I lost a little more hope in the midst of her silence. I assumed if there was something positive to show or say, then she would have. So, her silence was pretty deafening to me. Austin tried to explain what he saw on the monitor but said that he didn’t know what it was supposed to look like anyway. Shelbey came back in to wait for Dr. Parker with us. She mentioned that we reminded her of her and her husband. On the way to the hospital I prayed so hard that God showed us comfort in some way. I feel like Shelbey was God’s manifestation of that, which of course made me cry.
It was around 1 pm when Dr. Parker arrived. She said a few things then confirmed the worst, I was having a miscarriage. In fact, the ultrasound showed that it looked like the baby had passed a few weeks before and my body was finally catching up. All I could think about was the past few weeks of thinking I was still carrying our baby. It never felt different. I was getting energy back in the last week, but I just assumed that was due to nearing the end of the first trimester. The doctor went over a few things and mentioned if I only heard one thing, that it be that “it wasn’t my fault or Austin’s.” I still felt guilty though about not knowing exactly when we lost her. The doctor then went over three options with us. 1st; we could observe the rest of the miscarriage at home with no medical assistance. (Honestly, this was what I was thinking of doing at first because of maternal instinct I guess to not hurt the baby or “rush it away,” so to speak). 2nd, they could give us some kind of medicine to assist the miscarriage in moving forward (which sounded like assisted murder to me at the time). 3rd, have a D&C procedure to dilate my cervix and clean out my uterus. This option was the fastest choice of getting “through” the physical part of the miscarriage. I didn’t know what to do. It was pretty clear we had already lost the baby, but somehow I still had a string of hope that maybe all of these professionals didn’t know what they were talking about and that miracles happen. That was until Dr. Parker and Shelbey left the room and allowed me time to weep over the news of losing our baby. I cried out to Austin that I didn’t want to have to do this. “Why was this happening?!” However, this was also when what felt like a softball-sized blood clot passed through me and sent me over the edge even more. It felt like I was giving birth and I was not okay with that. I made up my mind right then to have the D&C procedure to reduce any more trauma we would have to go through. Meanwhile, I am hyperventilating after passing a grapefruit-of-a-blood clot and had the doctor and nurses rush back in. All I could do was cover my eyes and lean my head back because I couldn’t stand to accidentally see what came out of me. I felt like I was going to pass out. Austin said he thinks I blacked out for a second because I don’t remember all of them talking about the same thing. After everything was cleaned up, I told them I wanted to have the procedure. They asked when the last time I ate was and that’s when I remembered the dang chocolate covered blueberries from my sweet husband. Because I had something around 10 am, we needed to wait until 4 pm for the procedure since I would be under general anesthesia.
Now was the worst time of the day - calling everyone to let them know what was happening and that there would be a procedure. I was researching ways to tell someone you’re having a miscarriage while Austin started a text to his siblings. He was able to also call his dad before I had the strength to call my mom. I got ahold of my dad first and had him get my mom. I tried to say the words to describe what was happening, but nothing would come out and I just cried on the phone. I didn’t want to say it and make it real. Eventually she asked what the doctor said, and I told her we had a miscarriage and would be having a procedure at 4 pm. She and my dad told me they loved me and that we did nothing wrong. We called my sister next and I could head her start to cry. She offered to tell Kyle and Meredith because they saw my location and had asked her what was going on. Those were the only calls I could make. I sent a text that explained simply what happened and what would happen next to my closest friends to hear their loving words. The worst part was having to send a similar text the next day to everyone else I had told we were pregnant, thinking we were invincible at the time and that I would never have to send this news.
Meanwhile all these phone calls are happening, I am still passing a lot of blood. Like worst period of my life kind of blood. I tried to not think about what a crime scene it looked like below my blankets. Around 3 o’clock is when they started prepping me for the procedure. Which is something I was not prepared for. This procedure was a real surgery and required an IV drip and a big gown and hairnet. I was not prepared for it. Thankfully we did have a bag full of clothes in the car because I was going to need a different pair of shorts to put on after the procedure. Austin ran out to the car to get the different pair of shorts, which left me alone in the room for around 8 minutes. He got back in just 2 minutes before they started transferring me to a wheelchair (thank God because I think I may have lost a quart of blood if I had to walk to the OR). Austin walked with me as far as he could go then gave me a hug and several kisses and prayers. At the very end of the trail, Shelbey then said bye and gave me a hug and several well wishes.
We rolled back to the operating room next and it all felt very medical and not emotional. While I was being prepped, I kept telling myself this was just a procedure to prepare me to be pregnant again. Like this was all part of a plan for our future baby. Which some people will argue it is God’s plan and to that I say I hate this plan. Getting up on to the operating table was my last memory before it all happened. Which if you’ve made it this far, I may as well include that this was the last time I remember another big gush of blood escaping what once used to be the home of my baby.
I was awoken with gold fish, Dr. Pepper, and my husband. I was so sleepy I was sure it’d be okay if I just kept sleeping, but of course I needed to wake up and head home to finish the healing process. Shelbey came by one last time for another hug from Austin and me. At the beginning of this story I mentioned “the good, the bad, and the ugly” and I believe our nurse Shelbey was part of the “good.” Another “good” thing was the timing of everything. If we waited any longer to get to the hospital, I’m afraid I would have had the pink-water like substance all over me at the gas station or in the car. I’m thankful that we were at the hospital and not at our house for everything we experienced while at the hospital. I’m also thankful my husband was able to be there through all the bad news, which wouldn’t have been the case if my body had kept it together for a few more days and allowed me to go to my scheduled 12 week appointment where I would have been met with the news of the miscarriage alone.
I cried to my husband last night about drinking wine again. Which sounds crazy because I loved drinking wine 12 weeks ago before I became pregnant and missed it the whole time I was pregnant. Now I’m upset at the fact that I can drink wine again because there’s no longer a baby inside me to protect. I have a feeling there will be a lot of triggers like this over the next couple weeks as we navigate the grieving and healing process of a miscarriage. But I am so thankful I have my husband, family, and close friends to lean on through everything.
