My first meeting with Dr Lin, I was just there to establish myself as a patient. I was supposed to see a different doctor, but she didn't know much about the Molar pregnancies, so I got passed off. I was kind of happy, I had never had a female OBGYN, as weird as that is to some.
I sat in the exam room and waited to meet the new doctor. I was by myself because it wasn't really an appointment for Greg or B to be at, and it was freezing outside. I sat alone in the room and heard what I could have gone many more months without hearing. The room next to me was occupied by a young woman. I will never know who, or how far along she was, but they were listening to her baby's heartbeat. That amazing sound. Like galloping thunder. I tried and tried to hold back the tears, but they started to run down my face like it was a race to show how unstable I truly had become.
Then he walked in He was a short Asian man, sort of a cold bed side manner, but he knew what he was talking about. I liked that about him. He really tried to be likable. He even apologized several times for me having to hear the heartbeat, like it was in his power to control I never be around things that triggers tears. He, of course, advised against us trying for another baby so soon, but admittedly so, he could not control my birth control. That was literally put into my chart. He said I should have had more blood work follow ups, and that he would order some, to make sure it stays negative. That was Friday. Saturday I felt a little weird, and vomited dinner. Whether he could have controlled my birth control or not, it was too late. Sunday I peed on that stick. A line appeared, faintly. Very faintly, but very there. I began to sob again. It was what I had wanted. But instead of excitement and giddiness. I met fear and anxiety. It was everything Greg could do for the next 9 months to push them away, but they hung around the whole pregnancy.
I called the doctor Monday and told them, he ordered more blood work in disbelief because the numbers from Friday were definitely negative. I was, indeed, pregnant.
A few weeks later we met again for a sono. And there it was. The placenta, the yolk sac, the beating heart. And my reaction. Nothing. Greg went on about how we could stop worrying and that we should be excited. But I had held that excitement before. Even though seeing the heartbeat drops your chance of a miscarriage to 5%, I had been that 5%. I didn't want to get to know a baby I would never bring home anyways. These are the kinds of joyful thoughts that my optimistic husband got to deal with through the next few months. At least he just had to deal with them, I had to think them and worse.
A few weeks later I got a call that I got a job. This being February, I interviewed in November the previous year. But I was unemployed and so it was perfect. It was for an OBGYN office in town. My OBGYN office. The irony was awesome!!!
I went in for my first day on the job and everyone was surprised i couldn't speak Spanish. My last name is Crews, and I guess they had only heard it. I wondered why this was such a big deal, until almost every patient that day was Hispanic with little to no knowledge of the English language. It was interesting to learn new things about an unfamiliar culture. As a place to be while pregnant, it had ups and downs. We had to be in the room with Dr Lin anytime a patient had to be undressed. It was inconvenient, but necessary. It was neat because you got to watch lots of ultrasounds. It wasn't neat because you got to see lots of ultrasounds. You got to see the good ones, the shocking ones (like hey there are two in there), and then the bad ones. Oh there should be one, but there are none. The ultrasounds I had experience with. My first was on my second week there. I was still following around Nurse Angie. I miss Angie, just saying. But if she went somewhere I was to follow and mop up as much info as possible. I followed her into an early ultrasound. The patient should have been about 8 weeks along. And there was no baby. It was devastating. Obviously to her. But I had to excuse myself and stood behind the building for ten minutes or so bawling my eyes out. I knew the pain, and didn't know if I could keep the job.
But it got easier. Not the losses of course, but I came to love the job, and notice that the losses were not that plentiful, thank God, Allah or whoever you believe in.
Until one day it was my turn for an appointment. I didn't want to clock out and sit in the waiting room, so I worked all day long. I decided if we got some down time, which we never did, I would have the dr see me real quick and then go on. But real quick never came, and finally it was the end of the day. This was it. I was right back where it ended last time. Taking a real quick look, a picture for the road. I was just expecting the Doppler, but he took me back to sono and we took a look. There, where the baby should have been, was a baby. I lost my marbles after that. I bawled and bawled. He, as I have mentioned the lack of bedside manner, was amazed at my professionalism of all things. I think he was looking for things to say to distract me from becoming dehydrated. He told me that if I ever wanted him to take a peek at the little one, to just let him know.
I have learned that milestones are very important. And after a loss, getting past where you got to last time is a big one. I hit 14 weeks, and went through 14 weeks, like nothing happened. It didn't cure my thoughts that this baby would not be coming home, but I was finally breathing normally and not with caution. I did, at that moment, have a shred of hope that baby would be mine to hold and sing to the way I had done with my big boy. I thought that this storm might be over and my rainbow is shining through the clouds.
Then the contractions started.
I sat in the exam room and waited to meet the new doctor. I was by myself because it wasn't really an appointment for Greg or B to be at, and it was freezing outside. I sat alone in the room and heard what I could have gone many more months without hearing. The room next to me was occupied by a young woman. I will never know who, or how far along she was, but they were listening to her baby's heartbeat. That amazing sound. Like galloping thunder. I tried and tried to hold back the tears, but they started to run down my face like it was a race to show how unstable I truly had become.
Then he walked in He was a short Asian man, sort of a cold bed side manner, but he knew what he was talking about. I liked that about him. He really tried to be likable. He even apologized several times for me having to hear the heartbeat, like it was in his power to control I never be around things that triggers tears. He, of course, advised against us trying for another baby so soon, but admittedly so, he could not control my birth control. That was literally put into my chart. He said I should have had more blood work follow ups, and that he would order some, to make sure it stays negative. That was Friday. Saturday I felt a little weird, and vomited dinner. Whether he could have controlled my birth control or not, it was too late. Sunday I peed on that stick. A line appeared, faintly. Very faintly, but very there. I began to sob again. It was what I had wanted. But instead of excitement and giddiness. I met fear and anxiety. It was everything Greg could do for the next 9 months to push them away, but they hung around the whole pregnancy.
I called the doctor Monday and told them, he ordered more blood work in disbelief because the numbers from Friday were definitely negative. I was, indeed, pregnant.
A few weeks later we met again for a sono. And there it was. The placenta, the yolk sac, the beating heart. And my reaction. Nothing. Greg went on about how we could stop worrying and that we should be excited. But I had held that excitement before. Even though seeing the heartbeat drops your chance of a miscarriage to 5%, I had been that 5%. I didn't want to get to know a baby I would never bring home anyways. These are the kinds of joyful thoughts that my optimistic husband got to deal with through the next few months. At least he just had to deal with them, I had to think them and worse.
A few weeks later I got a call that I got a job. This being February, I interviewed in November the previous year. But I was unemployed and so it was perfect. It was for an OBGYN office in town. My OBGYN office. The irony was awesome!!!
I went in for my first day on the job and everyone was surprised i couldn't speak Spanish. My last name is Crews, and I guess they had only heard it. I wondered why this was such a big deal, until almost every patient that day was Hispanic with little to no knowledge of the English language. It was interesting to learn new things about an unfamiliar culture. As a place to be while pregnant, it had ups and downs. We had to be in the room with Dr Lin anytime a patient had to be undressed. It was inconvenient, but necessary. It was neat because you got to watch lots of ultrasounds. It wasn't neat because you got to see lots of ultrasounds. You got to see the good ones, the shocking ones (like hey there are two in there), and then the bad ones. Oh there should be one, but there are none. The ultrasounds I had experience with. My first was on my second week there. I was still following around Nurse Angie. I miss Angie, just saying. But if she went somewhere I was to follow and mop up as much info as possible. I followed her into an early ultrasound. The patient should have been about 8 weeks along. And there was no baby. It was devastating. Obviously to her. But I had to excuse myself and stood behind the building for ten minutes or so bawling my eyes out. I knew the pain, and didn't know if I could keep the job.
But it got easier. Not the losses of course, but I came to love the job, and notice that the losses were not that plentiful, thank God, Allah or whoever you believe in.
Until one day it was my turn for an appointment. I didn't want to clock out and sit in the waiting room, so I worked all day long. I decided if we got some down time, which we never did, I would have the dr see me real quick and then go on. But real quick never came, and finally it was the end of the day. This was it. I was right back where it ended last time. Taking a real quick look, a picture for the road. I was just expecting the Doppler, but he took me back to sono and we took a look. There, where the baby should have been, was a baby. I lost my marbles after that. I bawled and bawled. He, as I have mentioned the lack of bedside manner, was amazed at my professionalism of all things. I think he was looking for things to say to distract me from becoming dehydrated. He told me that if I ever wanted him to take a peek at the little one, to just let him know.
I have learned that milestones are very important. And after a loss, getting past where you got to last time is a big one. I hit 14 weeks, and went through 14 weeks, like nothing happened. It didn't cure my thoughts that this baby would not be coming home, but I was finally breathing normally and not with caution. I did, at that moment, have a shred of hope that baby would be mine to hold and sing to the way I had done with my big boy. I thought that this storm might be over and my rainbow is shining through the clouds.
Then the contractions started.
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Play nice!!!