We went to the second ultrasound, and it was terrible. We sat in the waiting room for an hour, watching cute pregnant lady after cute pregnant lady walk through. There was a teenager who was probably six or seven months there with her Mom and boyfriend. She and her Mom seemed happy, but it was tough for me to watch. Finally, they came to get me, and the technician very clinically confirmed that we did not have a viable pregnancy. She called my midwife, and sent us back to see her.
We went back to see Gretchen, and she had very kindly scheduled a doctor to do a DNC for me immediately. She walked us over to his office. He was very kind. He did a quick exam, and sent us over to the hospital to get prepped for the surgery. I was a mess. I was not only devastated at the loss, but I was terrified. This was my first "non-dental" surgery. Steve was so great and supportive. He was by my side for every second. He's had a couple of surgeries, so he walked me through what I could expect and tried to calm my nerves. They took a bunch of blood, all my vitals, etc., then introduced me to my anesthesiologist. Everybody was so nice. They all knew that we had a flight out at 12:30am that night, and everybody was working to make sure we made the flight.
As a side note... we would have pushed our trip back in a heartbeat. Not a single, doctor, nurse, midwife, etc. even suggested it. Everyone was so incredibly great, and found a way to get us what we needed so that we could go on our vacation. I don't know why. The best I can figure, this is something that happens everyday, and they thought it was best to go on with our lives. I don't know if that's it, but I am so grateful for everyone's love and care on that day.
Apparently the DNC went perfectly. I didn't even know what happened. I remember asking the anesthesiologist if I was supposed to be dizzy, then I woke up in a different room with a nurse checking my blood pressure. They took me into a recovery room and brought Steve in. I felt surprisingly good. I had to urinate and drink some fluids before I could go. We were there 30 - 40 minutes, then we headed out. By that point, we had about four hours to finish getting ready. They gave me some prescriptions to fill to help my uterus clamp down and to alleviate the pain.
Bug graciously picked us up and took us to the airport. Fortunately, we were upgraded the entire way to Costa Rica and got to spend our long layover in the Crown Room. I didn't get a lot of sleep, but it was significantly more comfortable than coach. We were truly blessed after our long day.
Our vacation was wonderful. I think it was just what we needed. We lost our baby, and we were really torn up about it. Costa Rica allowed us the time we needed to reflect and mourn, and to spend time with each other. I've spent a lot of time looking at the bruise left on my wrist from the IV that the anesthesiologist put in. It feels to me like it's the last sign of Danger that I have left. As it disappears a little more every day, my sense of loss grows. Within a day or two, I'll have no more yellow or purple, and will only be left with the memories of morning sickness and heartburn, and the loss of the hopes and plans that Steve and I had for our life with Danger. We're heartbroken. Instead of telling people our good news this week, we'll spend the week telling a few people about our loss.
I love Steve very much, and someday we'll have a family. Apparently it wasn't the right time. We have accepted that, but we're still sad.
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