Monday, August 20, 2007

The Main Event

It happened.

Cramps ramped up almost out of nowhere yesterday afternoon. I was bleeding by eight pm and cramps and bleeding worsened until after midnight. And then it really got started. We didn't make it to lights out until four in the morning.

I was in full miscarriage-labor for about three hours, complete with out of body visualizations and spontaneous breathing exercises and, in the last hour, vomiting. Not to mention blood and plenty of it. Oh yeah. And pain. Yup. There was a long period where I could barely opened my eyes, because I needed to stay internally focused in order to cope. J~, loyally constant at my side, struggled to keep his open too, though for much more benign reasons (in other words: he was tired).

In my mind's eye during the worst moments, I saw a cloud of blue-green, an undersea bleariness. Focusing on the color, I urged whatever life-ishness that might still exist within me to swim out. Swim! I thought. And in my less graceful moments this helpful encouragement became a much more desperate: Get out of me, now.

The whole experience was much more intense than the last two times.

Also unlike the last two, unlike my sister-in-law's, unlike any of the growing circle of stories I've heard about miscarriages as early as this one (which stopped developing at 7.5 weeks, though it was one day shy of twelve when it actually happened) the tissue that finally sprung out through my cervix (and that's really how it felt, like it popped out) resembled an actual creature: An off-white tadpole on its way to albino frog. An inch-long, larval salamander, with a long tale and a shorter umbilicus, a narrow torso with the tiniest miniature sprouts of arms and legs, and eyes like sharp black pencil dots at the sides of its large, pale, salamander head.

I collected it in a plastic container, which J~ interred in the refrigerator until the light of day, when he took it in his lunch cooler to the hospital lab for genetic analysis. It is hard to think that my child, my albeit freakish amphibian not-yet baby, will now be cut up like a science experiment. No, not like a science experiment, but truly, actually, as a for-real science project.

Hope we get some answers.

29 comments:

Anonymous said...

Wow, that is so tough. For what it's worth though, I think you did the right thing by waiting. I had a D&C 3 days after a scan showed no heartbeat (blighted ovum) at 9 weeks. A week after that, I had the most intense bleeding, cramps and period pain like I'd never known. So much for avoiding it by having the D&C. Although it did make the MS stop, for which I was grateful - nothing worse than going through that knowing there's no point.
I am so sorry, and I hope you get some answers. Take care.

L said...

I, too, had a D&C that did not get everything, so I ended up miscarrying naturally in the ER days later. It really is awful. My OB says it is exactly what you feel when you give birth (she had a natural miscarriage before her children).

I hope they find some answers when they karyotype the embryonic tissue. I hope that you feel better (or as best can be expected, under the circumstances) now that the physical pain is behind you.

I don't know if this is weird, but I wanted to see my 7.5 week old embryo after the D&C. I wanted proof that I grew something -- even something with questionable genetics and a malformed heart -- instead of just seeing positive pregnancy tests and a blurry ultrasound image. I think it would have given me a sense of closure. I was too upset to ask, though.

Sam said...

I am so sorry. So very sorry.

Lides said...

I am so sorry for your loss. I have been there many times .... I am hoping you get some answers from the analysis.

Take care.

Daniele said...

I'm sorry for your loss and thinking of you!

beret said...

Delurking to say I've been thinking about you, and I'm so sorry.

Drowned Girl said...

After one of my d&cs I went through labour pains and vomiting the next night.

I found a natural mc cathartic, and appreciated the chance to see and say farewell to the embryo.

I hope you have love and support around.

Anonymous said...

I'm relieved you made it through limboland to the other side with no physical complications. You did it Amy, and while I don't know I'd put that under the category of accomplishment, your body and mind did do some intense work in the night. I wrote about you (without naming you) in my blog ... I am so glad you had J~ with you.

I'm keeping my fingers crossed that the examination of the fetus sheds some light ... you can use some answers and love right now.

I'm sorry for you and your family's loss.

Ollie said...

I am so sorry you had to endure that. In more ways that I can possibly express. I hope that the analysis can tell you something.

Sarah said...

I'm sorry for you and J. But glad the physical part is done.

Glad that you might get some answers.

I know the out of bodyness and involuntary labor of it all too.

Hugs.

Ali said...

I'm so sorry you've had to go through this.

megan said...

i'm just so, so sorry you had to experience this. again. how traumatic. i hope you get some answers too. thinking of you both.

Kristen said...

I am so so sorry for your loss. I do hope you can get some answers from this.

XOXO

Amanda said...

I'm sorry, just so sorry. I've had 3 mc's and while early, were horrid experiences. At least you might be able to get some answers through testing. We were not able to do so.Bless you, and may you find peace.

Anns said...

I'm so sorry this has happened again but happy to at least hear that it's over. Please don't get your hopes too high about getting some answers - the odds of them giving any are apparently quite slim.

Hope you're feeling "better" (whatever that means) soon.

Anns xo

Anonymous said...

I'm so sorry for your loss. What you said about your almost-baby, pre-baby - what can we call it? moved me very much. I had a m/c and will soon have the follow-up OB app't where I will learn, or not, the reason for the m/c. I cried a lot thinking that when I went home from the hospital procedure, it (the pre-baby) stayed there. It is just now starting to lift a little. I send you all best wishes.

Deb said...

I'm very sorry for your loss.

Anonymous said...

With my first of two miscarriages, I too had to fish my 'tissue' out of the toilet after it had passed. It was almost an out of body experience. I couldn't believe that this tissue could have turned into a baby, a human.
I'm so sorry you're having to go through this. I know no words really help. Only time.

Felicia said...

I am sorry!. I hope that since you were able to experience this on your terms the clouser comes fast for you and you can have a clear mind. I am so sorry. Hugs,
Felicia

elle said...

I am so sorry! My thoughts are with you and J.

Rachel said...

I am so sorry for your loss!

I hope you are able to get some answers. I can't believe you have had to go through this 3 times. I really hope this is the last.

Sunny said...

I am so sorry.

Sammi2 on Rav said...

There are no words. Except to say- you're not alone. Peace to you.

Anonymous said...

Oh Amy - I am so sorry this happened to you. I hope the analysis does give you some answers. For what it is worth...and when you are ready...Dr. Johnathan Scher in NYC is a very good repeat miscarriage specialist. I highly recommend him -- perhaps now is not the time to be writing this but if I can offer even a little bit of hope/help to you in your bleakest moment...well, I'll take the chance that such advise might be inappropriate. Big hug to you and I will be praying (in my agnostic way!) that one day you will have a very different result. xoxo Suzanne

Anonymous said...

You are an amazing writer. I am so sorry you had to go through such a difficult ordeal, but thank you for sharing it with us out in cyberspace.

We are rooting for you.

Aliza said...

I am so sorry for your loss. Let me know if there is anything I can do. I know we're practically strangers and yet not because we've both traveled similar paths. Take care of yourself.

Anonymous said...

You have my sympathy and support! I lost another little angel yesterday. This time without warning or cause or understanding. This is the second time in eight months! I found out I was pregnant this just days after my due date for the other baby!

We have no idea why, but my babies never grow or develope heartbeats! I can get pregnant, but can't carry! I hope the tests, while heartbreaking, yeild some type of path for you!

My doctors are not hopeful, but I will not give up on hold my babies one day!

To you and all those who have experienced this loss, keep you head up and march on! We will survive, remain strong, then share our stories and tears, united by all the precious little ones that brought us here!

My you be blessed with a beautiful, health, happy baby!

Heather@To Sow a Seed said...

So sorry to hear of your loss. My own m/cs have also been extremely painful and surreal. May you be blessed with a healthy child in your arms!

Anonymous said...

Thank you for sharing your experience. I have just had my 4th m/c in one year; the first three unassisted pregnancies and natural m/c; the 4th, we saw a specialist and they told us the pregnancy was not viable when they did the ultrasound, then in the next breath, started scheduling us for a d&c. I declined, telling them that I had 3 previous m/c on my own, so thanks but no thanks. It made me so angry that they were so cold about it.

I must agree with Onward and Upward, that although you suffered another loss, you triumphed in choosing to allow your body to do what it was made to do.

I myself felt proud and accomplished that I went through two m/c labors on my own (first two were early, second two were at 12 and 13 weeks), made me feel like I'd have my next child in an unassisted homebirth!