It Got Worse

I'll try to be delicate in this post, but just be warned, some things can't be rose-tinted.

Last Wednesday at my ultrasound, we found out the baby was measuring behind and there was no heartbeat. However, I had not actually miscarried yet. It's better in the medical/health sense for my body to miscarry on its own, without having to be pharmaceutically or surgically induced. So we were waiting to see what my body did. I had another doctor's appointment set for the next Tuesday. Over the weekend, I had started to miscarry on my own a little. Just some occasional light cramping and spotting.

Instead of going home Sunday night like we'd originally planned, we stayed at my parents into Monday so I wouldn't have to be home alone with Carrie in case something happened. On Monday around dinner time my cramps were severe enough that I would have to stop to take a few deep breaths during them. They were not unlike contractions (which makes sense), coming and going. Around 9pm, the official miscarriage was over. I went to bed about 11:15, knowing I would need to get up in the night to go to the bathroom.

I woke up about 1:45 and went into the bathroom. I was suddenly losing tons of blood and clots. Ridiculous amounts. After a couple of minutes I was feeling dizzy, weak, and then.... Nauseous. Nauseous like I'd never felt before. Luckily our bedroom at my parents house was the one right next to the bathroom. I quickly reached out into the hall to knock on the door very loudly and call out Justin's name with just enough time to turn back to the toilet and start violently throwing up. Which of course, made me start losing even more blood. So I sat back down and speed mumbled to Justin to grab me a bowl to throw up in. It. Was. Awful.

By the time things settled down a few minutes later, I was sweating like I'd just run a marathon and felt like I was about to pass out. My mom had heard me knock and yell for Justin and had come in to help. I was leaning on the counter trying to remember how to breath deeper than a gasp when I said, "I want to go to the hospital"....

I didn't think I could stand up to walk, even if my mom and Justin were fully supporting me so I crawled with them next to me until the top of the stairs where my dad and Justin gave me a quick blessing. My dad carried me down the stairs on his back and then picked me up to carry me to the car.

When we got to the ER, my mom ran inside to get a wheelchair. She told the nurse, "My daughter miscarried last night and now she's gushing blood and vomiting, I need a wheelchair!" The nurse came out to get me and as she was wheeling me inside, told the front desk clerk, "Register her". It was music to my ears. There would be no triaging.... I was getting admitted...

They checked vitals while they got me registered; My blood pressure had dropped to 84/50 and my oxygen kept falling to the high 60's, low 70's. I was starting to shake from the shock. They got an IV started and gave me some zofran for the nausea. Then they did what I consider to be a halfway D&C. I had no pain medication (my blood pressure was too low for that), but they were using monster q-tips and forceps with gauze to "clean things out" down there. It was extremely painful, but fortunately only lasted a few minutes.

I had an ultrasound which concluded that my miscarriage was complete I shouldn't have any more episodes of such extreme hemorrhaging or clots. My blood pressure never got any higher than 90/64 while I was there, but after just over 3 hours, they released me to go home. We got home at 5:30 am and went back to bed. Justin went into work a few hours late and my dad got up with Carrie so the rest of us could sleep. I didn't get up until almost 11:00, walked downstairs, flopped onto the couch and slept again until 2pm. My mom brought me and Carrie home just in time for me to go to my follow-up appointment with Justin.

My Hcg lab levels showed on Thursday morning: 3477, Monday afternoon: 1247, and Tuesday early morning: 793. The doctor said the levels dropping the way they were was reassuring that there isn't any tissue left, but I'll have to repeat my levels every week until they show less than 5. Seriously, I hope the worst is over. I'm feeling a little better today. I'm still ridiculously tired, but I'm up and moving around. My mom stayed the night and will be here all day today to take care of us.

Carrie was so excited that my mom was staying. We realized that my mom has put Carrie to bed here many times before, but she's always been gone by the morning. This morning when Carrie woke up, she was calling out for grandma. I went into her room, told her grandma was downstairs and then watched to make sure she got to the right room. My mom said she ran in, jumped up on the bed and squealed, "I just can't believe it! You're in my bed!!" It was really convenient to be so close to family this weekend.

Backtracking a bit, Monday right after dinner, Justin and I went to visit Brigham and take the new bouquets for his grave.

I sat down and started cleaning off his headstone like I always do when I noticed that all the headstones in babyland were very dirty. (Remember, babyland is like the little "gated community" in the cemetery for babies and small children) I think they'd recently come in with the lawn mower and weed whacker, and all the headstones were covered in dirt and grass clippings. I felt bad, I wanted them all to be clean and pretty :(

So I called my mom and suggested an FHE project for everyone. I had them bring brooms, wet rags, and a garbage bag. We picked up loose flowers and garbage from all over babyland, and swept off all the headstones and sidewalks. Most of the graves there have little toys or stuffed animals on them. We wiped them off, stood them up and made everything look nice and pretty.

It was a wonderful feeling to leave those graves looking so nice. Even if their families don't necessarily notice that someone cleaned them, I hope they notice the peaceful feeling that comes with cleanliness and order.

**A quick side story that inspired my cleaning idea: On Saturday we helped at a close friend's Eagle Project at the Mesa Cemetery cleaning headstones and taking pictures of them to be turned into some place that enters the records into computer databases. In our first few headstones, we came to the grave of a baby. I got down on my knees and started extra cleaning this one; Making sure all the long grass around it was picked and everything looked nice. I mentioned out loud that I was doing a little more because it was a baby one. My mom said, "Yeah, cuz we....." Then she suddenly stifled an "Oh my gosh" and a laugh. We were confused.... She was cracking up and finally told us, "I was about to say, 'Yeah, cuz we love dead babies!' " She realized how wrong that sounded, but we all thought it was entertaining since we knew what she really meant. :)

Anyways, we had a rough weekend, but also had a rewarding service project in the midst of it all. And truly, I've never felt so good about a service project as I did about cleaning those headstones in babyland. Go do something for a friend in need. It brings such a spirit of peace into your life that cannot be found any other way. We're in a tough place, but we're feeling pretty good for now. We have so many family and friends who love and support us and are praying for us. We can feel the Holy Ghost comforting us and we know everything will turn out for the best.