We spent the next couple of weeks planning the next pregnancy blog series. Cher bought updated lights for the photos. We bought some items online, and others, we scoured Saskatoon for. I narrowed down blog titles and categories. Yes, I could’ve held myself back from excitement for a while, just in case, but I was intentionally choosing to be optimistic and hopeful, which I don’t regret, but of course its always risky. I was riddled with symptoms, which I held onto as reassurance. I was sick as a dog. Exhausted beyond belief. My boobs hurt so badly and grew a full size. I couldn’t stomach coffee, eggs, or (of all things) melted cheese. All of them left me gagging my brains out and exhausted.
As is my usual, Dr. Guselle asked me to book an ultrasound for 6 weeks. My HCG was through the roof, and had been more than doubling all along the last week. We had joked that this baby was an overachiever. The first clinic I called flat our refused me a scan. It went like this.
We don’t perform ultrasounds before 8 weeks.
My doctor has asked for it, though.
Still, we don’t. Unless its medically necessary.
Oh, I understand. Yes, it is medically necessary. I have a history of recurrent loss.
… Are you miscarrying nowwwww?
Uh… not that I know of.
So 8 weeks then…
I was pretty unimpressed, as was my doctor. I called around and booked it elsewhere.
My first ultrasound fell on a Thursday. I was 6w3d. My beloved Ultrasound Gallery closed around last Christmas, and the most popular clinic in the city refused me, so I found my way to a clinic I had never been to, but was held in high regard by many people I know. Everyone was very polite and professional.
I’ll admit, I felt very out of the loop. Not once was I shown the screen. Immediately upon the scan starting, she said to me I’d need a follow up, but she left it at that for the moment. She looked around, and then told me she’d need to do an internal. I knew she would. I knew it was early. That was fine. She began that, and finally told us what she could tell us. She said there was no heartbeat yet, but that it was perfectly normal at 6 weeks. I was measuring a few days behind, but that was also totally normal. She then went on to tell us there were what appeared to be TWO GESTATIONAL SACS. I was over the moon!!! She was full of smiles and said not to panic or get too excited. She said one was significantly smaller than the other, and empty, so it could be nothing, or it could be twins. We’d find out next time. I felt hopeful and excited, though still, never was shown the screen. I felt out of the loop, but figured I’d get my kicks in next time. This was a HUGE first for us! Even the possibility of twins was huge! We were asked to kick around in the waiting room for a few minutes while the radiologist looked over the pictures to make sure they were clear enough. We were told they were fine, and we could go. We never saw the radiologist, but there was one, and they approved them.
You’d better believe I spent that entire weekend looking up people’s experiences who had two sacs one week and two whole babies the next week. I knew it might not turn out that way, but it also might. Just the possibility excited me.
I waited to hear from Dr. Guselle all day Friday, but didn’t. She calls me pretty much any time my name crosses her desk, so I was surprised, but was trying to be relaxed about it all. I finally heard from her on Monday afternoon. And she was not happy. She asked me when and where I had the scan done. I confirmed the details, and she said the radiologist had actually sent the pictures and info to a different clinic to write up the report, making it take an extra day, and then of course, it waited over the weekend. That seemed kind of needless but, whatever. She was calling me now. I wasn’t upset. Rather I was proud I had waited and not panicked and called earlier.
But then she continued on, saying they should’ve called her the day of the scan. The next morning at the latest. A scan with “bad results” warrants a doctors call immediately. I clarified “bad results?” I said I knew there was no heartbeat but we left under the impression that everything looked perfectly normal. And she said “There’s no heartbeat, but there’s also no fetal pole. This doesn’t look good at all.”
The whirlwind from thinking there could be TWO BABIES to learning that everything was about to end was a HUGE swing down. WOW. I cried. She encouraged me to check my HCG again soon, and we decided to do a follow up ultrasound the next week. I didn’t want to go to that clinic again, so my doctor actually called the first clinic on my behalf and booked me an appointment herself, just so I could avoid the argument again that it might not be “medically necessary.”
I mourned hard that week, already so convinced the baby, or babies, were gone. It was already over. I was completely devastated. Yet, I had to keep moving. I checked my HCG again and it was waaaaay up there. Doing exactly what it should. No answers. It was SO maddening. But that Thursday, I was basically promised answers. Either everything would look perfect and there would be a heartbeat, or it would be clear that it was over. Right?
Wrong. Ugh. That would’ve been way too easy.
I got to the clinic for my second ultrasound, where I should’ve been 7 ish weeks. The sonographer was lovely, and after a LONG ultrasound that I again wasn’t allowed to watch, she finally asked if I was shown the screen at the last one. I said I hadn’t, and she hesitated a little before turning it to me. She didn’t want to give me results, and I respect that line so much, but MAN its hard not to know what’s going on. We really appreciated her letting us in on it.
She showed me the gestational sac. Only one now. She showed me the yolk sac inside of it. And then juuuuust one tiny little white spot, she called it a sesame seed. That was an embryo! We had progress!! But, not enough progress. The gestational sac and yolk sac had grown into 7 weeks, and the tiny little baby bud measured six weeks. But she told me she was already overstepping, and that was it. I thanked her profusely, and told her I wouldn’t hold her to anything.
The radiologist came in and was kind of just as dumbfounded as the rest of us. He said everything looked pretty good for a 6 week scan, and numbers can be off this early, all that jazz. He said its odd to still not have a heartbeat at 7 weeks, but this was obviously something different. He said it looked alright, but he wasn’t confident. He said we’d need to come back in 7-10 days for another follow up scan. Gah!!!
I spoke to Dr. Guselle the next day. We were both just scratching our heads. There was hope, but still SO many questions. It was such a nice phone call, though. She called me from home, and I felt like I just got a little peek into her life. I finally got up the nerve to float a little theory by her. I wondered why my hormone levels are so high but the baby is so small and seemingly behind. I wondered if maybe, my body really had tried to have twins, and it produced high numbers, but now with only one, it doesn’t make perfect sense. She told me she truly believes that’s what happened. And somehow, as sad as it made me, it was really validating. And exciting that my body tried!! We carried on our tradition and decided I’d book another scan on Thursday. She said to make it the morning so she’s for sure get it before Friday came to a close.
I called the same clinic and got the run around again. I dropped the name of the radiologist who asked me for a scan in a week, and she wouldn’t do it. She had to look me up and read the report herself. And then she nitpicked that he had written 7-10 days, and why didn’t I wait two days rather. I said my doctor had specified one week, in the morning. She huffed and puffed and tried to push me for an afternoon appointment, as if those three hours would make the world of a difference. I stuck to my guns, and she gave me an appointment, finally! I do not understand why that clinic is so well revered!! I guess if everything is standard and complication-free, maybe they’re great, but I have not enjoyed my experiences.
When we finally got to that ultrasound, we knew this one would finally produce answers. There HAD to be either a heartbeat, or not. We had to know this time.
And we did. As per usual, I wasn’t allowed to watch anything, but Brady did. He saw her measure the little embryo and saw that it measured smaller than before. No heartbeat. No change. The tech left after the scan to let me dress and to retrieve the radiologist. We were already in tears. We knew this was it. It was over. So we weren’t shocked when the radiologist came in to give us the news.
We were shocked when he chose to use the words “Your baby is dead.” That was pretty horrid. But, it wasn’t untrue. His next comment was “You should probably get your progesterone checked.” I told him I did, actually. Multiple times. That it was normal. And that I was still taking it, to really cover my butt. In fact, I was taking a double dose. He said “Well then I don’t have an answer for you.” We hadn’t asked. It was very odd and sharp.
I cried on my drive home. Brady had to go back to work, which was pretty much brutally unfair to him, but work doesn’t just stop when life is sad.
I was home for about a half hour before Dr. Guselle called to see how I was and to talk about what to do next. I told her about my scan and mentioned how curt the news had been delivered. She cut me right off and said how unacceptable that is, and that she’s going to write a letter, “reminding” the techs to watch their bedside manner. I actually cut her off then and told her it had been the radiologist. She was shocked, and said “I guess I’ll have to call then!” She asked for names, and I gave them to her. She was quite upset on my behalfI. I told her she really didn’t need to call. I told her we knew that was already the news, so it wasn’t as shocking. And she said it wasn’t appropriate for us, nor for any other patients, to be spoken to that way. Literally any other way of delivering the news would’ve been just as clear and more sensitive.
Either way, we knew the situation in which we found ourselves, and she faxed a prescription for medication to get things rolling. She left the choice up to me, but in my experience in the past, babies don’t come out of me on their own. When I get pregnant, my body holds on hard. That couldn’t have been more true this time around :/