The Aftermath

It's all so raw. This whole thing feels like a dream, until I remember the last few days.

The moment I walked into the OB's office, flustered from running straight from the pathology place downstairs - the midwife being so lovely and reassuring, telling me that lots of women felt anxious during their pregnancies, and that they'd scan for my peace of mind. The moment the OB scanned me, and very cautiously told me that he was struggling to see a heartbeat, that the baby measured small - and then doing an internal ultrasound to confirm what he wasn't seeing. The moment his words sunk in, and I realised I was alone, that Jason didn't know, that our baby had died. The moment he called home, told hubby the news, and we drove home together... with the realisation that everything had changed.

I was petrified of having a d&c - I've never had any kind of surgery before, no anaesthetic, nothing. But I was even more petrified of passing the baby at home, especially since my body still thought it was pregnant - and was in no rush to miscarry on its own. Considering the pain I had from the misoprostol tablets to start the process was SO intense, I would have really struggled at home, so I am 100% okay with my decision to have the d&c.

The procedure itself went fine, everyone was really sympathetic and my OB was really reassuring. I woke up from the anaesthetic with no side effects, but with quite a lot of pain and cramping that would NOT go away. They gave me enough pain meds to fell a grown man, and nothing worked; I wasn't even slightly tired either. After several hours in recovery, and a combination of drugs, I finally felt well enough to get myself into the outpatient centre and prepare to leave. I hadn't slept the night before, and I couldn't sleep that night. I wanted to, but I just couldn't.

Yesterday, I saw my GP. I wanted to let her know the news, and to get some help with the sleeping. She was devastated for me, and prescribed some tablets, and with her help I finally managed a sleep last night. If only it was dreamless.

So now.... what next? I have no idea. I'm home. I'm healing, still cramping (very mildly) and still bleeding (on and off) and just trying to push on. My family and friends have been great, lots of messages of support, but I feel like I'm still in hibernation mode. How do I face the real world, with happy and healthy pregnancies, when I just can't have that right now? I'm putting on a brave face, but I still can NOT believe this has happened.

I hate waiting.  I hate not having a plan. I hate not being in control. And that's what is especially hard about this - there is nothing we can do for a while. Other than hold each other, put the pieces back together, and wait.

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Lindz said...

I'm so very sorry Aly. My heart aches for you. I understand your desire to hibernate, it's so very hard to face the real world where healthy pregnancies are paraded before you. Find strength in your family and hope as you snuggle your gorgeous Georgia.

Novella said...

Oh Aly I'm heartbroken for you xox I'm so sorry you have had to go through this. Look after yourself and have lots of cuddles with J. Thinking of you xox

~mum~ said...

I love you
so much baby girl
so very much
I wish I could say something to make you feel better ... I am grieving right alongside you - and I will be there for you whenever you need me
You understand now about a mothers love - so when I say how much I love you - you know the feeling that comes with it
I want to take your pain away and it breaks my heart that i cant. The thing that is keeping me going through this - is that Nanna is looking after your sweet baby and i know she is in good hands with her xoxooxo

Breanne said...

It is so, so hard. I've lost 2 babies and had scares during both of my pregnancies where I was convinced I was going to lose my babies. It's never easy.
But, you're doing something so important right now by talking about it- miscarriage is a silent condition. So many people DON'T talk about it (including myself after my first one) and just struggle through it.
Hugs, friend.

Veronique said...

I'm SOOOOO sorry for your loss. I can't imagine how devastating this must be. ((Hugs))

Hapa Hopes said...

Much love to you. Please take care of yourself.

JB said...

My heart breaks for you. I know this pain, and I hate that our society doesn't seem to recognize that you have experienced a loss of life. It is a loss, and you have to grieve just like you would if someone older had died. The pain of miscarriage takes a long time to heal, especially when there doesn't seem to be an end to it when you want to grow your family. I am praying for peace for you and your family. You're NOT alone. We are all here for you and grieving with you.

Tara said...

I'm so sorry to read this, Aly. I know others who have been down this terrible path and there is an end to the pain in sight. Bee love, girl. xx Taco

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