Miscarriage (Part 2)

To read Miscarriage (Part 1) click here.

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Let's see... Mark had just gotten off the phone with our midwife, and she encouraged us to get to the ER.  We made a quick phone call to Mark's sister to see if she could take the kids for the day (she could and was there within ten minutes to pick them up.)  I started getting myself dressed- and in those ten minutes after deciding to go to the hospital, my bleeding increased significantly.  Suddenly I was gushing blood.  So then I was worried.  I didn't let on to Mark how much I was bleeding at that point, but just told him we needed to go, and NOW.

On the way to the ER, I was still having contractions and wondering how I was going to manage that (and the blood and all the trips I'd need to take to the bathroom) in the ER waiting room.  I sort of envisioned myself on all fours, on the ground, breathing through my contractions as I crawled to the bathroom.  So I prayed aloud that God would please get us in quickly.  When we got there, Mark checked us in and I headed straight to the bathroom.  I passed one person seated in the waiting room.  And he didn't look hurt.  Other than that one person, it was empty.  I don't know if there's ever been fewer people in that waiting room.  It's always packed.  I was so incredibly grateful.

At that point I was thankful to be at the hospital, in capable hands.  And I knew it would make Mark less worried overall.

We saw one nurse initially who took my vitals and asked all sorts of questions, and then they wheeled us to an ER room, where we met our nurse, Kate.  She called me darling and began cleaning me up.  The ER doctor checked in- a Dr. Nicholson, and then was back in a bit later to give me a pelvic exam.  He said there was an awful lot of blood and clots, and my cervix was closed.  He instructed Kate to get me on an IV right away and then told me he'd get someone from OB up, but he thought they would want to proceed with the D&C.  That was no surprise to me.  He also said he could definitely make me more comfortable with some pain medication.  I was tearfully grateful.

We did a lot of waiting... Mark and I, there in the room, talking quietly, with occasional interruptions from Kate to change out my bedding or check my vitals.  We listened to the events happening around the ER.  (Our favorite was a man who came into a room near us.  When the doctor asked him his name, he said "Leonardo DaVinci."  Without missing a beat, the doctor said, "Why, I've never met a famous artist before!")  Kate gave me some medicine and I felt woozy and relaxed for the first time in several hours.  I didn't sleep; but just rested and the pain of the contractions dulled considerably.

OB needed to get a pregnancy test before they'd see me as a patient, apparently, [Kate had a few words to say about that ridiculousness] and then they were willing to do an ultrasound.  Nancy wheeled my bed to the ultrasound wing.  That trip was perhaps the most difficult of our time at the hospital.  I kept watching all the signs as we made our way through the hallways, and I was all choked up at how surreal it was: I had labored all night, I was bleeding and sore and having a contraction right at that moment, and we were heading toward the Childbirth Center, where I'd delivered all of my babies after similar labor.  Mercifully we turned off into a hallway just before we reached the Childbirth Center. 

The ultrasound was much like our last one, weeks before.  There was the baby, in the same place, and still.  After the ultrasound was done- which she took to "find out what is left in there", I was wheeled back to the ER.

After the ultrasound they were in communication with the OR, and Dr. Mora, the OB doctor at the hospital that day, came in to inform us that they'd be proceeding with the D&C and to tell us a little about that.  I signed a consent.  Another nurse, Brenda, came in to ask about medications and allergies.  Caitlin from OR was waiting to transfer me.  I thanked Kate for taking such good care of us and she saluted me and we were off. 

In the OR I met Michelle, the nurse who signed us in and would be there when I woke up.  We chatted about her upcoming birthday trip to AZ, how tall I was (compared to how short she was), and then she asked about my "partner" (that would be Mark, sitting right next to me).  I said he was my husband and he was a keeper.  She asked how long we'd been married and when I told her sixteen years, she said "Good job!  And you still like him, even." I said he was amazing and I loved him.  And then she talked of little else.  She kept introducing us to the other nurses, and referring to us as "sweet" and "married sixteen years" and commenting on the fact that we still liked each other.

Then we met Connie, who would be my OR nurse.  She was very soft-spoken and kind.  The first thing she did after introducing herself was to find my hand, squeeze it, and ask if I was cold.  I was.  So her first task was to get this papery sheet out and on top of me- which I was doubtful would do much in the way of warmth- until she plugged a tube into a hole at one end, turned a machine on and warm air flooded into the sheet/blanket thing, filling it up and warming me up.  Mark promptly checked the brand: Bair Hugger- and said we needed one of those at home. 

Caitlin left, Michelle left- telling me she'd see me on the other side, Connie did some paperwork and said the anesthesiologist was on his way and then she left.  It was almost 4:30.  Tony came and introduced himself as my anesthesiologist and talked me through his part of the procedure and asked me about allergies and nausea.  I always get nauseous coming out of anesthesia- (in four previous surgeries on my ear).  He told me that if you're a white, non-smoking caucasian female, you are the highest risk for nausea from anesthesia.  (Who knew?)

Another OR nurse stopped in- Sereta.  She had recognized us- she and her husband are good friends with Mark's brother- and I didn't even know she worked there, but she said "I saw you here and wanted to say I'm sorry and that we'll be praying for you guys."  That was all, but her compassion and kindness made me weep.

Connie came to wheel me to the OR, showing Mark where to wait, and I made him promise to eat something during his wait: he hadn't eaten or had a drink all day long.  Poor, sweet, hungry, tired man.  He's so strong and I am ever thankful for his steady presence.

Connie took me to the chilly OR room, and there I met her assistant, Jenny, whose job it was to get me talking while the anesthesiologist got started near my IV.  Jenny asked me for my full name and birthdate and what I was there in the OR for.  And I don't remember anything else until I woke up in recovery.

[Part 3 to come...]