It was Sunday, and I was exactly 12 weeks pregnant. We had gotten pregnant on the first try. I felt so lucky; I thought if we did have a miscarriage, it wouldn’t be that bad. We would just try again. We had told close friends and family. I was going to start telling work and extended friends next week. We had a gender reveal party and found out it was a boy! We were so excited. I felt like we had made it out of the “dangerous zone.”
My husband had just left on a work trip to Germany. For the last couple days, I was having some very minor spotting only when I wiped. I went to the emergency room just to ease my mind. The doctor drew blood and did a vaginal exam and found the source of the bleeding, nothing to do with miscarriage. My cervix was high and closed. He told me a miscarriage was unlikely. He wanted to schedule an ultrasound in the next two days but agreed to do it that day, as I was still worried.
I got in quite quickly and laid there for what felt like an hour watching the ultrasound tech’s straight face as she moved the probe around and around. Finally I caved and asked if she could tell me anything. She said I would have to wait to talk to the doctor. I knew deep down this wasn’t a good sign but held on to a sliver of hope.
Next, the doctor came in and told me they couldn’t find a heartbeat and the fetus was only the size it should be at 8 weeks. My worst fear came true and I was all alone. I’m so thankful for friends that came to be with me. I then was sent to get a Rhogam shot at BC Women’s Hospital.
On Monday, I finally spoke with my own doctor, who kindly went over my options with me. I couldn’t bear the thought of seeing my baby come out of me, even though I knew it would be tiny. The D&C was scheduled for Wednesday. The next couple of days were absolute hell walking around knowing my baby was dead inside of me.
Waiting on Sunrise 