In Limbo
Monique | Wednesday, August 1, 2012 at 11:10PM I'd like to preface this with a warning of sorts. I have mostly cleaned up my foul language here, but today, I will not rein in my fingertips. This entry details a sensitive issue, and is at times graphic, pertaining to miscarriage, ectopic pregnancy, pregnancy in general and shoddy doctor folk.
{In case I wasn't able to get another bump shot, I took one at the hospital. I should be six weeks along here.}
"I think she's just an early ectopic!" Dr. Bedside Manner exclaimed to my mother.
Mom had driven me to the emergency room at 11pm Monday night, it's now Tuesday 9am.
I've spent far too long in this triage, have been poked with too many needles, and the only information I'd been given was that the pregnancy test they'd drawn blood for was positive. And this was even after an ultrasound.
My mother is infuriated, always my advocate she'd let me rest while she worried awake, bleary eyed she explained to the petite woman in the electric blue Aloha print dress that she has been sitting right beside me, and for the last three hours I hadn't even been visited by a nurse for a moment.
Doctor Bedside Manner interjected quickly, rebutting with how busy it has been in the emergency room with critical patients. This is something we both understood, given the fact that I had already experienced sitting in the waiting room for three hours before being taken into a room for the same reason. In all the combined hours I was left unattended by a physician, what might have transpired in my body, with my baby? That was my mother's sole concern. She expected someone to check in, and no one did.
Doctor Bedside Manner then reconfirms to my mother that I am pregnant. She says, again to my mother, as if she didn't have to look past me to speak to her, the cramping, almost fainting spell and bits of spotting I experienced at home, indicated that I probably had an early ectopic pregnancy, then she finally addressed me:
"Do you know what that is?" she'd cocked her head to the side, and asked as if I was a toddler.
I answer yes and she goes back to talking to my mother, speaking as if I was pregnant with a disease instead of an embryo, something they'd quell with medication and I'd bid good riddance to.
I have always understood that realistically what's residing within me currently is a cluster of cells, not a baby, really. But for us - we've always felt that those cells, from the moment they join, are our baby.
She left the room to go speak to the OB on call, and came back as my mother and I were crying, taking in the information we'd just been so callously given. When she looked shocked at our apparent out of place behavior, my mother said to her that this was a wanted pregnancy and the news of its possible loss is a devastation to us all.
"Awwww, I hadn't thought of it that way! So sorry!"
I raged internally, my mother must have sensed my anger, or felt some of her own, because my head snapped up and she tightened her grip on my leg.
What the fuck did you think then? Was I supposed to hear "ectopic pregnancy" and think "Phew, man. What a relief!"? Was I just another "knocked up kid" to her? Clearly she thought I was a moron, given how little she acknowledged me when it was my very own pregnancy as the topic of discussion.
She followed up by insinuating that she had stood up for me. The OB on call said that I sounded stable and should be sent home, and she made sure he understood we'd been here for too long without a definitive answer for that to be acceptable.
I would have been more gracious, but the last thing I wanted to do was speak to another one of these condescending assbag doctors, especially if this one was already quick to dismiss me.
While I waited for him, my mother went home and Christian took her place next to me. He held my hand and told me to stay positive, my rock as always.
Thank everything, Doctor Terrific was wonderful! He kindly informed us of the numerous situations we could be facing and each reason as to why we could be facing it.
My hemoglobin was fine upon entering the hospital, hours later it had dropped. It may have been because of the IV fluids they'd pumped in me, or it could indicate that I do have an ectopic pregnancy and I am bleeding internally.
My HCG levels were significantly low, consistent with an ectopic pregnancy, but also the sign of a normal pregnancy and spontaneous miscarriage.
I am not far along enough to see anything via ultrasound, there was nothing remarkable to note on the one that I'd had, and our options were limited. We chose to admit me for overnight observation. He asked us often if we'd had any questions, and we didn't, he'd covered everything we needed to know, and I thanked him profusely because I was grateful for a decent human being, finally.
Then he asked if I had an appointment scheduled with an OB and I told him no, but that I'd tried calling one on Monday morning, then he asks "Are you on Twitter? Mayhem something?" I'd tweeted about the prenatal care options in Ithaca, and he had read them. He was going to email me to ask if I'd called his practice.
Social media, you guys.
I was moved to a room, and then moved to another, they took me off of the IV fluids and drew my blood throughout the evening. My hemoglobin had stabilized, so there was no evidence of internal bleeding in that instance. But nothing was ruled out completely.
At 1:26am Tuesday morning, I went to use the bathroom and discovered some spotting, and that's when I lost my shit. I cried on the toilet, I cried as my shaking hands clutched the tissue that held the small clot of blood, I cried as I pressed the call button, through wracking sobs I'd described what I discovered to the nurse, who consoled me. I sent a text to Christian and cried myself to exhaustion before he responded.
I knew I was losing the baby, I knew I'd wake up and feel distraught and empty, I knew I never wanted to experience this again and the chances of us trying once more if we truly lost Cinco were nil.
I woke up and the nurse said she was sorry for my loss as she took my vitals and offered me Tylenol and liquid breakfast. When she left the room it was all I could do not to tear through the hospital sobbing, trying to get as far away from the maternity ward as my legs would take me. I choked back my broth, and cranberry juice and pushed the rest away.
I stopped crying only to speak to Doctor Why Are You Scrunching Your Face Up At Me Like That who reiterated that we were still fuzzy on an answer. I told him that based on what I'd calculated I'd be six weeks along, he said the HCG was clocking me at five. Everything else had looked good, I stopped bleeding {possibly triggered by the vaginal ultrasound} and my bloodwork all came back free of anything frightening, or substantial, and he was sending me home.
Then he asked me if I had intended on keeping the pregnancy, and I swear to the few things I believe in, I almost kicked him in the nuts and asked him if he wanted to keep those. I have been sitting here, agonizing over the state of my unborn child, a fact that could be missed by no one with eyes, and he asks me if I had intended on keeping the pregnancy? What is wrong with these people?
I answered him, but I don't know what his purpose in asking was, and I sincerely don't give a damn.
He told me that he was from the practice that I'd called on Monday, and asked if I wanted to follow up with him or Doctor Terrific. I didn't hesitate in my answer, and trust I will do everything in my power never to visit that practice. Two negative experiences and I haven't even stepped foot in the office? I'd rather not get the full package.
The nurse came back with discharge papers, and we talked for a bit. She asked if Doctor WAYSYFUAMLT informed me that I'm still possibly carrying a viable, normal pregnancy. He hadn't.
Up until that point I felt all was lost. Since no one had told me otherwise, I assumed I'd just be going home to wait for one of the inevitable - to pass my baby, or wait until the pain was intolerable, or there was more and more blood. Wasting my time with bloodwork and appointments just to watch it all show bad news. I had no idea there was a chance that my baby could still be thriving, that everything could be well, and I cautiously rejoiced.
Still, we won't be certain for a little while. I have a follow up appointment with Doctor Terrific tomorrow afternoon, and then again a few days afterward, and again, and again until my bloodwork tells us something, or I'm far along enough to see what's happening.
I am going to proceed as if this pregnancy is normal and viable, and I am going to remain as positive as this confused and broken heart can muster.
Tomorrow Samara leaves and her departure is being far more cruel to me than it has been in the past. I am not yet ready to say goodbye to her, but then again, I never am.
My emotions are mangled and raw. I am irrational, angry, worried, and fearful of what seems the most possible outcome. Christian and I both are, but he's holding up better than I am.
I've not responded to anything anywhere as of right now, please pardon my rudeness, I will soon attempt to get back into the swing of things.
In the meantime I am going to hold fast to my children, my husband and my small hope for the best.
Reader Comments (17)
She hadn't thought of it that way? Seriously?!? What a crock. I'm so sorry you're going through this. You'll be in my thoughts & prayers!
I hate hate HATE most doctors and nurses. My mother was a nurse and I always wonder why they can't be caring like her, and get even more mad. That's great that your actual mother was with you, and that you have such great support. I'm so sorry you have to go through this, and atheist-version-of-praying for you. <3
Crossing my fingers and toes. I hope little cinco is well. <3
I will be sending you positive and happy, healthy vibes. ♥ I am sorry you had such an awful experience with the doctors and I hope your future experiences are much, much better. ♥♥♥
Monique- I am so sorry for the unknown. My thoughts are with you, Christian and all the minions. I hope you get sone news soon.
And after working healthcare, it's said to say a lot of doctors are assbags. I'm so glad you've found Dr. Terrific.
Oh I’m so sorry for your experiences. With both of my pregnancies I had bleeding very early, around week 5-7 and even later in the pregnancy. We thought we were losing our Bean because of how heavy and clotty it was. With our second pregnancy we experienced the same. Both ended with two beautiful healthy children. So there is still hope. I’m keeping you in my prayers.
Sending lots and lots of good vibes your way. I hope all is well and that Dr. Terrific continues to be so, and that you get some good news soon.
I am so sad to read all of that. What a bunch of assholes in your hospital network. I am so sorry that you have to be "handled" like that, and I am certainly hoping that things work out for the best. I will be keeping you and your family in my prayers!
As a mommy to five I am thinking of you and your family. Good vibes being sent your way :)
(((hug))) Sometimes the folks in the medical profession make me want to weep and this is one of those times. Holding you and your family in my thoughts.
Sweetheart, I'm raging with you at this treatment. I cannot imagine dealing with such ignorance on top of the worry for your pregnancy. I want to hug the shit outta you. Much, much love.
Sending positive thoughts and love your way! I can't believe the way that other doctor acted. Anyways, fingers crossed and hoping for the best. Love ya.
I'd first like to once again, say I lub you. Next, THIS right here is the reason why I start Nursing School in November. This, right here my friend. It is fucking tragic that someone in the medical field whether it be a doctor or a nurse handle loss, any type of loss, with such aloofness (is that a word?!). I have been on the receiving end of something VERY similar but I never got my Dr. Terrific.
Flashback...In 2009 we found out I was pregnant with Parker in March and when I was 7 weeks pregnant I was about to walk in Target with Howard and the girls when I felt wetness. I looked down and there was a huge wet spot of blood on my jeans and on the car seat. I'm talking like a foot wide. I immediately panicked, took my girls to my Mom's apartment and Howard and I immediately went to the closest ER. The bleeding was substantial, they said. Heavier than a heavy period. Blood tests said I was still pregnant as did the vaginal ultrasound. I was told that it looked like I was having a spontaneous miscarriage and to go home, wait it out and follow up with my OB tomorrow. We were heartbroken. My HEAVY period bleeding lasted until I was 15 weeks pregnant, after being on full bedrest, ultrasounds and doctors appointments every 3-4 days until it suddenly stopped. Not tapered, stopped. Parker was born at 34 weeks healthy as a 34 weeker could be.
I lub you MoMo, sooooo much! I am thinking of you and praying for you my dear friend!
Love you. <3
I am sending many prayers your way. Hopefully little one will fight and nestle in there and there won't be any more bleeding. I'm horrified at the treatment you are getting from the hospital. It's disgusting and insensitive and definitely continue to use social media as your weapon. *hugs*