Follow My Sorry Ass


Tuesday, January 15, 2013

Time and Life

"If you get a time-puker and you puke in it, it sends puke back in time." -James

"The important thing is that God knows you and you're not a bad guy." -Elise

"My wish is for you to live a long, happy, living, life!" -Elise

--

I am probably having a miscarriage. Looks like a blighted ovum, said the radiologist in the E.R., but we've got to wait to be sure. Tomorrow we should know more, once my doctor does a repeat ultrasound and labs.

The second-worst part? It's my fault. I should have checked with all of my doctors before getting pregnant, not just some of them. I guess I just wanted to be a normal person who doesn't have to consult with anyone (besides her husband, and possibly an ob/gyn--certainly not a physician committee) as to whether a pregnancy is okay. Now my blood calcium is high again and the parathyroid tumors are recurring, which is apparently quite incompatible with the development of an embryo. My endocrine surgeon--and I think the world of this lady--is basically saying as much.

The worst, worst, worst part is that my daughter was there for it. The boys were (mercifully) at a birthday party, but E and I were at Wal-Mart and finishing up some grocery shopping when I suddenly felt hot and dizzy and exactly like I was going to pass out. I paid, leaned heavily on the cart, and pushed us into the in-store McDonald's, where I managed to sit down. She was worried about me, so I tried really hard to reassure her, but I couldn't stand up or do anything except whimper. She got me a cup of water. Then I felt a gush of blood while I was trying to text the husband to please come get us.

About six hours with the three of us in the emergency room told us this much: beta hcg was in the 14,000's, Calcium was 10.9. Ultrasound showed a gestational sac but no fetal pole or yolk sac. At 5w4d, this might still be okay, but they made it clear that they really weren't hopeful that this is a normal pregnancy. And it has been agony to wait for what feels inevitable: the death of the idea of a person who never quite was.

I'm a science person. I know there is TONS of room for debate on the beginning of life and personhood. But this feels like the loss of a person to me, the loss of a much-anticipated conception. Few scientists would agree, I think, that a sac is a person. In fact, I just read somewhere that blighted ova/anembryonic pregnancies tend to result from chromosomal issues in the gametes. But we'd looked forward to this together and I know what we're missing, three miracles in.

I don't want the kids to feel my pain. This is precisely the reason I hadn't yet told them about the pregnancy. We weren't really planning to tell them for at least a few more weeks when a routine (if there is such a thing for me anymore) ultrasound might have shown a viable little pre-humanoid.

I am sorry, little sac. I am sorry, husband and kids, who have slogged through grief with me for two days and the overwhelmingly likely more to come. I am sorry, brother and friends, who have texted me their support, given me their hugs, and seen me through thus far.

1 comment:

Hippy Goodwife said...

I am so sorry Laura. I had two miscarriages just like that and one that was very different. It does not matter how far along the pregnancy was, grief doesn't have any rules. Especially for a much anticipated and wanted pregnancy. You know where to find me.