The End of the Potential Twins

Monday, January 12th, we went to our 'first' appointment with our midwife Kathleen for this pregnancy, where we were anxious to hear the results of the ultrasound we had just before the appointment. We already knew it could go either way, and we were prepared for best and worst case scenarios, while ardently hoping for one of the two best case options- one or two growing healthy children.

The tech who did this ultrasound was confident and experienced, and asked good questions throughout the process. I knew she was trying to clarify what she was seeing. I also knew she wouldn't show us the screen, so we had Bean sitting right behind her trying to figure anything out, which of course was impossible. The appointment ran long, so we rushed over to Kathleen's office.

Almost as soon as we sat down, she said, "There's been no growth, you guys." She had tears in her eyes and told us that she hated this news for us. She explained more details, saying the one sac that had the fetal pole had actually shrunk in the last week, so apparently my body was starting to figure it out. We talked over the options and I told her I wanted a D&C. I think she was surprised, because using a natural minded caregiver, her first instinct is not surgery, it's trying to let your body do what it will do naturally. I just wasn't interested in going through that again, especially after our last experience. 

I wanted the physical part to be clear cut, scheduled, and as pain free as possible, while also sending my body a clear message: You are NOT Pregnant Anymore. So turn off the hormones!

She referred me to Dr. Downey, who she works with whenever there are serious complications requiring surgery, or someone needs to be transferred to a hospital, or any of the non-normal things that can happen. The main difference between a midwife and an Ob/Gyn is midwives don't do surgery; they are able to more completely focus on fetal development, safe birth and the relationship between mother and baby. We set up our appointment with Dr. Downey for Thursday. 

In the meantime, I wished I could be completely alone to clean my house, have someone else play with Abs, and I also wanted her with me and to be happy. She was a mess- clingy and whiny because I wasn't giving her good attention. We trudged through music class on Tuesday. We watched a TON of television that afternoon. Wednesday, I picked up Mom from the bus station and we had a delicious lunch at Gloria's (my choice/favorite restaurant), and relaxed. 

The appointment Thursday was very short. I told him a quick 5-minute overview of why we were there; then he talked for 15-20 minutes about the different options, mainly focusing on the pills that induce contractions. I told him I wanted a D&C, and he explained everything that could go wrong. I could tell he has a spiel about each thing that he has to tell you. It's a similar experience that I have at our family doctor (I barely get a word in edgewise and forget about asking questions, it gets the train off the tracks). 

While we sat there, he had the nurse call the OR and find out what times were available, and luckily we could do it at 7:30 the next morning. I signed some paperwork with him that told me there was a chance of uterine puncture, sterility, hysterectomy, etc. We went down to do the pre-op paperwork as soon as we left there. It was more of the same: do you have an advanced directive or living will? Here's what can go wrong. Sign all these papers so that you can't sue us. 

I came home and hung out with Mom and Abby the rest of the afternoon. I got a new prescription for glasses that I never had filled, and I remembered how when Bean had surgery we both wished he had just worn glasses because it was a pain to take out and then put his contacts back in before/after surgery. So we went to the mall and I got some new glasses. We played at the play area and walked around, while I kept trying to ignore the random waves of nausea. 

Friday morning, we woke up at 5am and I took a shower because for some reason I was embarrassed to have unshaven legs for this type of surgery, especially since I would be knocked out. We got to the hospital about 5 minutes before 6am (when they open). By 6:45, I had changed into the lovely gown, answered tons of questions, and been poked 4 times to finally get the IV started. Then we watched Dog the Bounty Hunter while waiting for the next step. 

A chaplain came in and said he makes the rounds offering a prayer before surgery if we were interested. He gave a very generalized prayer, talking about the doctors expertise, the nurses experience, etc, and something about it just made me cry. I wanted him to pray for my babies, all of them. 

Soon enough, Dr. Downey came in, said about 4 words to us and went to call anesthesia since I hadn't seen them yet. The nurse came in with a funny hat on, and the anesthesiologist came in soon after. She asked if I'd ever had complications from anesthesia, and I told her no but that I remembered waking up shaking and crying. She said that was normal, and especially for the surgery I was having, it was normal for women to be crying once they woke up. She pulled several vials out of her breast pocket which I thought was funny, it wasn't fancy at all. She injected two of them into my IV and the nurse wheeled me straight to the OR. 

Can I just say that operating rooms are scary? The bright white, the huge shiny silver lights aimed at you, the fact that you are talking to someone and then you are sleeping and you don't even realize it? 

When we came into the room, Nelly's "Hot in Herre" was playing on the radio. I just knew Bud was there with me. We have that song on our world famous video. I told the nurse, "It feels like a party in here!" and she laughed and started dancing. I asked if she was going to make me count back from 10. She said no. You're going to make me start at 100, then? No again. 

Next thing I know I woke up in a different room with a different nurse. I was trembling and weeping and once I realized that I had indeed- thankfully- woken up from surgery, instantly I realized what had happened- the pregnancy had been removed from my body, just like I requested, and now there was no going back. I sat straight up in bed crying. The nurse asked how I was feeling, and I answered, "Sad." I think she must have asked why I was sad because my response was "My babies!". She gave me lots of tissues and I sat alone and cried and filled the tissues with snot, and soon enough she told me she was going to take me into recovery and they would let Bean come in. 

I remember thinking it was weird that I had to cry by myself like that when Bean was just in the next room.

The recovery area was just a space for a bed with a privacy curtain. The nurse came in and told me she would get me something to drink. She listed off several options and apple juice jumped out at me. It was the most delicious apple juice with tiny ice particles in it. Bean came in and we talked about who had texted and/or called, how fast the procedure was, how few words Dr. Downey said to let him know everything was ok, and how many people had commented on something I posted on Facebook that morning. I told him a long story about how my brother and I would convince my mom to take us up to the hospital where she worked and let us have some apple juice from the fridge and it was so delicious drinking it from that plastic cup with the foil top peeled back. 

I polished off the apple juice and we just sat there waiting. Finally I was allowed to use the restroom and get dressed, then she had to wheel me out in a wheelchair even though I easily could have walked. I came home and spent the rest of the day up in the man cave watching whatever I wanted on TV with no responsibilities (Bean and my mom played with Abby, cooked dinner, and checked on me). Elissa came by with some frozen dinners, I got my new bathing suit for our trip to Costa Rica in the mail, and after dinner we spent the evening relaxing and making sure I was taking enough motrin to have zero pain. 

It's now 3 days later, and I feel great. Minor spotting, no cramps or nausea or food issues, and I feel a strong urge to eat healthy foods and drink a ton of water. I'm going with it! I got my fit bit set up and started wearing it and I plan to go for a walk this afternoon. We also got the house cleaned up since it's been a wreck for the past month and a half while I've been so nauseous. 

Emotionally, although this sounds weird to me, I feel relieved, like a weight has been lifted. I was so happy before I got pregnant this time, really enjoying life and feeling thankful for everything I have. Then I got the positive test, and we started checking my blood, and before I even realized it, a heaviness crept in, sort of a fear and dread and worry that I didn't let take over my mind, but it was in my body. I didn't know it was there until it wasn't anymore. We wanted this one, we tried for this pregnancy, and we did the best we could but it didn't work out. It's not up to me to figure out why, or to understand the reason because I don't have a choice in this matter. 

All I can do is my best- and that's what I did. We are ready with our vitamins and really looking forward to a week of time for just me and Bean. We really need it. I'm not giving up on 2015, but I'm also not going to measure the year solely based on whether or not we have a child. I can't say how many more times we will try again, but probably at least one more time. 

We have so much to be thankful for- one example: last night we had dinner in a restaurant. I wanted spaghetti with a meat ball and a glass of pinot grigio. Abigail gobbled up her penne with alfredo and then asked for some of my spaghetti. We specifically didn't get her red sauce because of the top she was wearing. I cut some of mine up for her, and told her she had to use her fork. She then very carefully used her fork to eat the spaghetti. It ended up all over her face and she just kept carefully shoving it in her mouth and smiling. She was covered in sauce- all over her hands and cheeks, and she was smiling at us and laughing. And then she wanted her hands wiped because they were dirty. And it was perfect.