Crashing down

By the time we went into our appointment with the obstetrician I think my hope was outweighed by my doubts. When the ob asked "how are you going?" I was very quick to reply that we weren't so great. I quickly explained the result of the ultrasound from the week before. The ob said it was probably best we get straight to having a look, rather than spend half an hour talking about pregnancy management, just to find out things aren't looking good. He also told us a story about a woman he'd seen whose first scan didn't look good, with the baby having a heartbeat of 78. He said when she came back he felt nervous about what the scan would show, but that everything was great, the baby had a heartbeat over 160 and had really grown.

A glimmer of hope just as we get on the bed for the scan. 

He starts with an external scan. By this time, 8 and a half weeks, the baby should be clearly visible from an external scan. By how hard the ultrasound thing was pushing on me I could tell it was hard for the ob to see the baby, and from what I could see on screen it didn't look good. He switched to an internal scan where he confirmed that things didn't look good. He said he was sorry, but from what he could see the baby didn't have a heartbeat and the size hadn't changed from our last scan. 

Procedure from this point is to have a high resolution/diagnostic scan. The portable scanners the obs have apparently can miss stuff, so they are reluctant to recommend the curette without the diagnostic scan. Our ob rings the women's diagnostic centre and gets us an appointment in a couple of hours. He asks if the result is as expected if we'd like to have the curette that night if they can get a theatre booking.

We head home for a couple of hours. Given we have the chance of having the operation in the evening I've got to eat something now, and then I'm on nil by mouth, just in case we can secure the evening theatre time. An hour before our appointment I drink the obligatory pre ultrasound water, knowing no matter how full my bladder is they will still need to do the internal scan. 

It's funny that it doesn't really matter that we already know that it is pretty much over, when the sonographer sympathetically tells us she can't find a heartbeat I still can't help but cry. She confirms the baby is still the same size it was a week and a half ago. She looks around to make sure the other embryo isn't tucked away somewhere it shouldn't be, but there is nothing else, just the one that is no longer a viable pregnancy. 

With our results in hand we head back over to the obstetrician's office where he quickly sees us between patients. He asks if we'd like to have the curette that night or tomorrow morning. I opt to have it done that night, so that way only one day revolves around the whole ordeal. 

We head home to pack 'a just in case' overnight bag and by 5pm we are back at the hospital being admitted. By 6.30pm I am wheeled down to pre-op and by 8pm I'm back in my room texting home. They keep me in for a few hours and then we are allowed to go home.

Despite having a body full of sleepy drugs I didn't sleep well. I couldn't get into a deep sleep. I don't cry, just toss and turn.