Shock

Last Fall, a friend of mine had a miscarriage. When I heard the news, I felt terrible. She was eleven weeks pregnant and went to her appointment for her second ultrasound. When they performed the ultrasound, there was no heartbeat. She had no physical signs of miscarriage- no bleeding or cramping- she had a “normal” pregnancy up to that point. What a horrific thing for someone to go through. I had no idea what she was feeling until a year later when I found myself in the same exact situation.

I was thirteen weeks pregnant and going for my second ultrasound.  I was excited to see the baby again. At the eight week ultrasound, we saw our little peanut and heard the swishing sound of the heartbeat. What a glorious sound! My husband was running a little late for this appointment so we decided to get started without him. I figured he could see the baby once he got there. First the tech. performed the belly ultrasound. She started by looking at the cyst on my left ovary that had been there since August and had been growing over the last three months. She told me the cyst had shrunk from 7 cm down to 2 cm.  I felt a sense of relief that it was going away on its own and the doctor would not have to go in and drain it. I was feeling good about things.

Soon we were looking at the baby and the gestational sac. As she was looking at the baby, she began to ask me questions. “So you had one other ultrasound before this? When was that? What clinic was that done at?” I answered her questions and began to wonder why she was asking these questions. She kept rubbing the instrument over my belly right where the baby was. I began to wonder about the heartbeat. At our last ultrasound, the tech. clearly pointed it out and let us listen to it. That wasn’t happening this time. Ryan still hadn’t arrived and I was starting to feel uneasy. Finally, she said she wanted to do a vaginal ultrasound because it was still early in the pregnancy and more could be seen. I went to the bathroom to relieve my bladder. As I looked in the mirror, my chest and neck were all blotchy. I was nervous and emotional. By the time I walked out of the bathroom, Ryan was walking into the clinic. I was relieved to see him, but still scared. We walked back into the room and she performed the belly ultrasound quickly again to show Ryan the baby. Again, she didn’t show us the heartbeat. Then she performed the vaginal ultrasound. I couldn’t see the screen at this point and I didn’t really want to. Again, the tech. asked me “So your doctor was just following up on the cyst and doing a normal checkup on the baby? You weren’t having any issues at all?” I responded and told her we had no issues and asked if everything was okay. She responded with “Unfortunately, I can’t give results out. That is not part of my job. The radiologist has to read the results first.” At that point I knew something was wrong. She preceded to tell me that she would make sure the radiologist read the results and got them over to my doctor before my appointment at 4:!5. As I lay there with my legs open staring at the brown cabinet doors in front of me, I knew my life was about to change. I hoped and prayed that I was just being my typical glass half-empty self, but somehow I knew that wasn’t the case.

We left the clinic with a sick feeling in our stomachs. Both of us knew something was wrong, but strongly didn’t want to believe it. Not much was said on the car ride from the ultrasound clinic to the doctor’s office. We were both holding onto to a small feeling of hope. I don’t know if I have ever prayed as much as I did in a span of twenty minutes as I did during that drive. Please God, help my baby to be healthy.

We sat in the waiting room, not saying much. The nurse called my name and we got to the room. She said she was going to take my blood pressure and pulse. I warned her it might be quite high because we had come from the ultrasound and I was feeling uneasy about things. She took my blood pressure once and it was off the charts. She said she wanted to take it again. Off the charts again. She told me the best thing to do was take some deep breaths. At that point, it took all that I had to not break down and cry.

When my doctor walked in, I knew immediately. The sick feeling that was already in my stomach multiplied times ten. The look on his face stole any bit of hope I still had in my body. I said, “Bad news?” He responded with a nod, sat in his chair, and rolled up right in front of us. Hot tears rolled down my face and I looked at my husband who had never looked so sad. The doctor started telling us about the ultrasound and about miscarriage. Thinking back on his words, I don’t remember much of what was said. I had fallen into a numb state of shock.