"The Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away": Part 5

Danny: “Are you nervous?”

Me: “Yes…Are you?”

Danny: “I guess so.”

It wasn’t long before the Genetic Counselor greeted us and showed us into our room.  We were introduced to her assistant (the ultrasound technician) and then instructed on what to expect at our first visit. 

It all happened so quickly:

I sat comfortably on the bed during our short meet and greet as the ultrasound technician prepared for the checkup.   Not a moment was wasted before the ultrasound was up-and-running and the Genetic Counselor was explaining the details of the baby. 

Genetic Counselor: “Here is the side profile of the baby.”  (pause)  “It looks like the baby measures at 11 weeks.” (pause)

“Here is the baby’s head.” (pause)  “Here is the Cystic Hygroma.  We can definitely see a large amount of fluid surrounding the base of the neck; it also looks like there is fluid building along the back, right along the spinal area.”  (pause)  “And here is the stomach.  We can see the intestines herniated outside the body—a true omphalocele.” (pause) (pause)

 “At this time we are not able to detect a fetal heartbeat.  I’m so sorry.   You do still have the option to perform a CVS (Chorionic Villus Sampling) to determine if there were any chromosomal abnormalities.  Your will also want to set up an appointment with your doctor for a D and C right away.”   “Again, I am so sorry.”

Me:  “okay.”   (Not really catching on to the part where the baby was no longer alive)

Wait, did I just hear that the baby is no longer living?  I think that’s what I heard.  Are we now talking about something completely different?  What is D and C?

Genetic Counselor: “Would you like to perform the CVS right now?  I can send for the doctor to get the room ready.”

Me: “We were going to wait from the results of the ultrasound before making that decision.”

Genetic Counselor: “The CVS will be able to determine if there was an abnormal chromosome in the DNA, as well as the likelihood of this occurring in future pregnancies, so it would definitely benefit you to receive that information. 

  Also, the fact that there is no longer fetal activity makes it easier on us because it won’t put any risk to the baby.”  “I think it would be wise to go ahead with the CVS; if not for any other reason than peace of mind.”  

Me (looking at Danny for reassurance):  “I guess we will go ahead with the CVS.”

Danny: “Ya, might as well.”

The Genetic Counselor left us to ourselves as she contacted the Doctor to perform the CVS.

Danny: “Jamie, did you catch on to what the doctor was saying about the baby no longer being alive.”

Me: “Yeah.  I think so. 

Danny: “Because as the doctor was explaining that part you were very calm.  I wasn’t sure you had really heard what she was saying.”

Me:  “At first I was a little confused. She was moving through the ultrasound so quickly I didn’t really pick up on it, but by the time she started talking about going ahead with the CVS I was more aware of what she was saying.”

Danny: “Are you okay?”

Me: “Yeah…a little relieved, actually.” 

Danny: “I’m relieved too.  “Should I feel guilty for feeling relieved?”

The CVS was touch-and-go for about 15 minutes.  The doctor couldn’t find a proper place to insert the needle, as I was having “normal anatomy” contractions, and they didn’t want it to be more painful than it was worth.  The doctor was uncomfortable with the position of my uterus and almost gave up on the entire procedure, but after drinking two big cups of water and a little relaxation, the Doctor and I agreed to at least try. 

Doc: “If it becomes too painful, just let me know and we will end the procedure immediately.”

Me: “okay, I will let you know.”

I was nervous for the CVS.  The doctors assured me it would be very painful and to let them know what I was able to tolerate.  I was expecting the worst. 

I focused intently on the purpose for this test; the valuable information we would receive from this small moment of pain.  I did my best to breath (as was instructed by the Doctor and Genetic Counselor), but ironically the breathing didn’t help.  I decided to try the same technique that helped me through my contractions with Molly: wiggling my toes. 

Me: “I’m just going to wiggle my toes to help me with the pain.  Don’t think I’m going into shock or anything like that.” 

Doctor: “I’ve never heard of that one before, but do whatever is going to make you comfortable.”

It seemed silly, but I wiggled my toes back and forth to help calm my nerves and ease the pain.   I was surprised how well I dealt with the procedure—but then again, I think I tolerate pain really well.  I was more nervous about the unexpected pain I was suppose to feel. 

Doctor: “You did very well!” 

Genetic Counselor: “Yes, Jamie, you were very calm.”

“But then again, when I see women with your hair color and fair skin I just know they are going to tolerate the pain exceptionally well.”

Me: “I had heard redheads have a higher tolerance for pain, but I didn’t really believe it.  I guess it must be true.”

Doctor: “You can expect to feel minor cramping and discomfort.  Take it easy the rest of the day.  I am so sorry for your loss.  Take Care.”

Danny and I: “Thank you”

We left the Genetic office with a solemn beat in our step.  It was quiet and calm. We were in no hurry to get home, especially knowing our kids were taken care of by our great (family) friends, so we decided to take that moment to be with each other.

No phone calls were made, no texts were received.  It was just me and Danny, surrounded by the spirit of that baby that had just passed on.  No tears were shed, but we were saddened.  We were relieved to have miscarried, but grieved to have lost something precious.  It all happened so quickly.  The baby was gone.