February 24th, 2011

It was Steve's birthday, a big one no less, he was turning 30. I had planned a surprise party for him for Saturday, but with everything that was going on, I decided that it would have to be cancelled. I was extremely sad about this because I wanted to have a special celebration for Steve, he deserves to be celebrated. He wasn't upset about it being cancelled though, he doesn't really like parties anyway. Still, what a terrible way to spend your birthday, waiting for bad news, hoping for the least bad, but still bad, word to be delivered.
It was around 6:45am and I had just gotten into a deep sleep. I was dreaming, in my dream, I heard my name being called, as I came back from my dreamy state, I realized that my name was actually being called. I was woken up by a man that had come to collect some more blood. This is the blood that we would be waiting for next. By 9am I had learned that my ultra sound wouldn't happen until 12:45, so I was left to do some more waiting...and thinking. Why was this happening to us? This isn't fair.
Around 10am, after I had taken a fairly cold shower and was waiting for Steve to arrive, I had the news given to me that the blood work had come back. The doctor said the news wasn't good. She explained that my levels had dropped and because this was a tubal pregnancy, my body was taking care of it and I would lose the baby. This was the best of the worst to me because I didn't have to make any decisions, my body had, once again, taken away my choice...but this time, in a way that would cause the least amount of pain. I expressed to the doctor that this was better than having to have my tube removed and she said that that was true if I was looking at the bright side of things.
Before she left she talked about if we wanted to try again, how long to wait physically and also that we should wait until we are ready emotionally. When she left, I wondered, how am I supposed to feel right now? My eyes stung from crying, but still filled up with fresh tears. As I pushed it aside I wondered...how badly is this going to hurt, once it kicks in? When I'm at home, alone, with no baby to look forward to - again. How much will the pain eat at me this time? Despite my very strong pro choice stance, I had a hard time not seeing this little thing, that had lodged itself in my tube, as a baby...my baby, my fourth baby and the second baby that I would never get to meet.
But, there was not time to worry about that right now, I had to hurry up and wait. Because they were still doing the ultra sound and it would be a few hours after that before we would find out if I could go home or not.
Steve arrived shortly before 11am and we took turns playing spider solitaire on my laptop. When the time finally arrived for me to go for my ultra sound a porter came to get me. Steve walked behind me as the porter pushed me in a wheel chair. Apparently I wasn't allowed to walk on my own. The porter parked my wheel chair in the hallway outside of the place where they do the ultra sounds. I was amazed at how different this stay was than the stay that we had when I delivered Alexandra...even though I was in the same hospital, the experiences were worlds apart.
The ultra sound showed much of the same things that the others had shown. Nothing in my uterus, something in my right tube. Based on this fact, and my increased bleeding and lowering HCG levels, what was going on was very clear.
It was explained to me that this is called a tubal miscarriage. In my googling research I learned that they actually call it a tubal termination, though they don't like to say that to a mother about her very wanted pregnancy. No matter what you call it, it is another sad experience for my family. Another attempt to grow our small family, to no avail. Another emotional smack in the face.
After several more hours and close to dinner time, I was finally allowed to go home to Dayne. Feeling tired, sore and sad, I cuddled with my only living child until he fell asleep and then I cuddled with Steve until I fell asleep.