December 6th, 1996. Worst. Day. Ever. I was sitting in my OBGYN’s office waiting for what seemed like eternity. He was not going to deliver this baby since he had retired but he happened to be in the office on this Friday when I started spotting. He finally prepped me and the ultrasound for a look at what was supposed to be an 8 week old fetus. After several minutes, he got up and walked over and grabbed my hand. He is one of the sweetest doctors I have ever met and he just looked at me with these caring eyes and told me that there was no heartbeat. My eyes filled with tears but I didn’t burst into tears. Kim Leech does not break down in public!
He told me that he was calling over to the radiology department of the hospital to have a sonogram and we could walk over and they would be waiting for me. I remember that walk that seemed like 10 miles through the underground tunnel over to the main hospital building. Neither my husband nor I spoke one word to each other. Neither of us knew what to say and I think we were both afraid of crying. The hospital radiologist confirmed there was no heartbeat so we proceeded to walk back through the 10 mile tunnel to his office.
We scheduled a D&C for the following morning which was a Saturday. He normally doesn’t schedule things like that but he said he didn’t want me to wait until Monday and thought it would be easier on me if we did the procedure ASAP. What I wasn’t thinking of at the time was December 7th is my husband’s birthday. As the doctor and his nurse stepped out of the room to get things scheduled, I finally spoke.
I told him that I was so sorry I had let him down and I didn’t know what to do. See, I felt like I always needed to please other people.
After telling my parents and my husband calling his parents, we settled in for a really long night. I don’t recall sleeping much as I wasn’t really sure what was going to take place the following morning other than the fact that I would no longer be a mom. It was like the Olympics just stripped me of my medal. I felt like I was absolutely nothing. Worthless. I couldn’t even carry a baby, so what use was I to this earth?
The next morning we were at the hospital before 7 am and we were taken back to a surgical prep area. I had my IV, lovely backless gown, and hoo-ha prepped for the procedure. After they gave me the night, night juice I thought I had been asleep for at least 24 hours only to have the recovery nurse tell me it had only been 30 minutes since they put me under. Wow! That was quick.
There was a guy on the other side of the curtain and they were trying to wake him up. They kept saying “Steve, Steve, we need for you to wake up”. This went on for probably a couple of minutes when another nurse walked by and into the curtain where “Steve” was. As they were saying his name again she says, “His name isn’t Steve, it’s Greg”. Well, no wonder the guy kept sleeping!!!! Duh.
My mom spent the day with us and my dad checked in periodically. My dad was a very kind, gentle person. He looked very stoic and stern but he was far from that (unless it involved a 16 year old daughter that had broken curfew or sassed her mom one too many times). It wasn’t until a few years before his death that my mom said that they night we told them I had a miscarriage, he went into his shed (beer fridge was there) later that evening. She heard a peculiar noise later and when she went to investigate, he had literally broken down. He never spoke of that miscarriage or the one that followed.
I know my story isn’t the same as others that have been through infertility and miscarriage as we are all different women with different stories to tell. This is why it has bothered me when someone says “I know how you feel”. I’m sure they are trying to say something comforting but none of us knows how another person feels. Yes, we can sympathize but no one knows how or what I am feeling.
I really felt like this was my punishment for doing sinful things over the years. What I didn’t realize is that this very dark time would mold me into the person I am today. I wish everyday were filled with flowers and happiness and fairies (not really the fairies, they creep me out) but this is life and it’s real and some days it really sucks.
The night of my D&C, I had the most vivid dreamlike encounter. It was the most angelic face of a small child with curly blondish hair that got closer and closer to me. It was almost as if they were trying to kiss or hug me. I was very frightened at first but then it was like they backed away from me at lightning speed and I felt this sense of calm and peace come over me. To this day, I strongly believe this was its way of saying “Goodbye, I’ll be okay”. Yes, I was depressed and horrible for months, heck years after this but I never worried about that baby nor the other baby.
After all of these years, all of the pain, all of the happiness, I’m still here. I think women are given far deeper emotions to deal with as we are like the mighty Oak. We stand tall, protect those under our branches and by God, we have strength. Maybe we are also like a Palm Tree. We bend under the force of hurricane winds but when those winds subside, we stand tall. That is why women are strong.
Easter 2008
Here’s to all my strong women that have weathered many storms and will continue to weather those storms!
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