Wyatt's Story - Part 1

You know that old saying that life is what happens when you are busy making plans?

Little did I know that a mere hour after I made a post about rebooting my blog, my life would change forever. At almost eighteen weeks pregnant, I began bleeding. Heavily. After calling my doctor, I was informed that I needed to immediately head to the nearest urgent care or emergency room to be checked out.

Up to this point, I had a picture perfect pregnancy. Low to moderate morning sickness. All growth ultrasounds had been exactly on target. In fact, I had a follow up appointment with my OB the next day. Our anatomy scan was even planned for July 30th.

After dropping Pup and Bug off with my sister in-law, I drove across town to urgent care. Almost an hour after I got there, I was informed they could not help me as they did not have the equipment to do ultrasounds. After another call to my OB office (which is located in the Women's Center of our local hospital), I was informed that it was so late in the day they would be unable to help me. However, I was also told I should go ahead and make it into the labor and delivery emergency room.

I met my husband there and we waited anxiously as they did an ultrasound. The technician kept the screen faced away from me, which I could tell from the beginning was not a good sign. In fact, when I kept asking about movement of the baby she did not have much to say. Mr. Wonderful was busy asking a ton of questions, all of which she nervously answered in as few words as possible. Eventually, she stated that she had a question for the doctor and left the room.

My heart began to sink. I knew where this was headed, but held out hope that things would be okay. A few minutes later, my OB -- who happened to be the on-staff doctor for the evening hours -- came into the room. With a sad look, she announced what we had feared: there was no heartbeat.

I immediately burst into tears. I wasn't sure how to handle the situation. Frankly, part of me was relieved as having three under the age of three in diapers was quite daunting. At the same time, my heart was breaking. Our doctor gave us two options: let nature run course over the weekend at home OR schedule a D&C for the next morning. She had an opening in her office promptly at eight in the morning and we were to provide her with an answer then.

When I got home, Mr. Wonderful and I discussed our options. Frankly, I knew that the "natural" way would be tough on the whole family. I didn't want to do that to the kids, my husband, or even (selfishly) myself. We decided on the surgery. The next morning, with my toddlers safely back in the care of family, I bawled the entire way to the doctor's office.

After a quick examination, I was informed that the baby was too big to do the D&C surgery. (I.e. scraping of all tissue inside the uterus.) With tears in her eyes, my doctor said that she was afraid for my health first. Secondly, she knew she would have to dismember the baby and didn't think that either she nor I could handle the emotional ramification of it.

This left us with one choice... induce labor.

More on Wyatt's Story tomorrow....