Last night ended in tears. Effectively, it was the end of three months of pain and fear. And I don't really have the words to describe it. I was saddened but also relieved when the doctor said we lost the baby. Sad because we've been working years up to this point, but also relieved because the last six weeks have been hell on SMWM and I hate seeing her torn by fear and doubt.
The plan was always to have two children. EDM was the first and he was a dream to raise up to this point: quiet, sedate, and healthy. It took us a long time to start on the second one, mainly because of details you probably don't care about, but mostly the repercussions of EDM's birth.
So, we were excited when the twelve pregnancy tests said she was pregnant. There is a doubt that one is accurate, so she tested again, and again. Lining each one up on the side of the bathroom sink with gradually darkening lines that showed she was definitely going to have a child. It was almost a graph chart in bright lines: plus, plus, double line, plus, double line, double line, "pregnant" (it was digital), plus, ....
And then came the bleeding. We rushed over to the emergency room and spent a few hours waiting for blood work and paperwork. There is very little comfort on a bed waiting for bad news or good news.
EDM was there, with the innocence of a two year old in a room filled with new toys. I usually encourage him to explore in these situations (and usually join in), so we poked every button we could, twisted every control on the adjustable bed, and even lifted and lowered the guard rail a hundred times. I avoided putting him on a wheelchair and running down the hall, but it was close (the two security guards walking past always gave me hard looks just in case). But, somewhere in the second hour, the enthusiasm for a new room faded and it just turns into this quiet waiting with a cold pit in my stomach.
It wasn't great news but it wasn't horrible, on that first visit. She was pregnant, but the various hormones weren't very strong. It was only 3-4 weeks into the process and they weren't sure of anything. So, they sent us home with a general feeling of dread and orders to talk to the OBY/GN in the morning.
The next six weeks
She never stopped spotting. The doctors told us to just relax, but it's hard when you see blood. Things didn't really get worse, but they also didn't get better.
I hated watching the fear in her eyes. Would we be having this for the entire pregnancy? Was it going to get better in the second trimester? Fear and doubt and hope all mixed together.
She told her mother who promised to keep it a secret (and failed). I didn't tell my parents. My brother, who has suffered far more with the entire procreation process, was just coming off a miserable pregnancy of his own (she was on bed rest for ten weeks), and is hopefully going to have a lovely new child of his own in the next few days. I told a few people at work, mostly to pave the way in case I had to leave in a hurry without explaining myself, and a few people guessed from things I said.
Minor note: It is really hard when I can't say something outright, but I have to talk. And it only takes one statement to give it all away. Plus, I work with some really intelligent people who are smarter than me.
Every time, it was something that came up. Not always in words, but in the way she held my hands or the look as she came out of the bedroom.
My biggest vacation of the year was going to WisCon and then up to the family cabin. In the middle, we spent some time reconnecting with my grandmother (who most of her family has apparent abandoned her).
The trip was misery for SMWM, mainly because of the pregnancy. Worrying about diet, unable to pick up EDM, and all the other fears. I didn't go to a number of events so I could spend time with her and also to help manage the little one, but there is only so much I could do and still go to the convention.
And then, while having lunch with my grandmother, she fell in the bathroom while holding EDM. It was a short fall and she landed on her knee, but it was enough that she asked to go home instead of continuing to the cabin. If something went wrong, she wanted to be at home instead of a strange town with no support and nowhere to stay.
We turned around. WisCon is actually quite close to home. At the time, nothing was seriously wrong, but better safe than sorry.
Emergency room again
About an hour after we got home, she started to bleed again. Coupled with the fall, we decided to go to the emergency room with EDM again. I had entertainment (I always bring stuff for a six hour visit now). EDM and I played with all the buttons and levers and gauges that we could. Because it was Memorial Day, the lines were a bit longer.
But, sooner or later, it comes down to that sitting on a chair, waiting for the bad news. You know its bad news because of they speak. When she first heard the baby's heartbeat, the nurses are almost giggling with joy and smiling. When that rapid-fire beat is missing, it's all "the doctor will give you a report" or "the doctor will see you."
Using the hormone levels as a guide, we probably lost the little one about 1-2 weeks ago, but her body is still working on passing what's left. We probably have another few weeks of misery and tears, but then it will be over.
I like to talk about my problems, but this is one of the cases were I couldn't. We both decided that we don't make the news public until week twelve for exactly the reason we've just experienced. But, I need to talk a little, so I tried to couch it in general terms. I also couldn't really write about it, so I've just had to watch it tearing SMWM apart and suffer with this feeling of helplessness.
I could do the little things: more chores, cleaning up more, helping her with the beginnings of nesting, etc, but it was a situation that I was completely helpless to do anything significant.
While programming, we have the idea of "fail fast." I'd rather lose a child in week ten than week thirty-two (like my brother's last pregnancy). If it wasn't going to work, I'd rather find out now instead of much later. Every day and week that continues makes it harder to lose them.
In that aspect, I'm relieved that we found out. It still doesn't make it any easier to swallow.
We're going to try again. Just need to let these things pass first.