My day ended much differently than it began so I think I’ll start at the end and then go back to the beginning.
It had slipped my mind that October 15th is Pregnancy & Infant Loss Remembrance Day. The entire month of October recognizes pregnancy and infant loss, but on the 15th, people around the world will light a candle. A friend sent me a message and asked for the name of our daughter so that she could light a candle to remember her, along with her own son. I was so grateful that she reached out to me so that I could light a candle of my own – for my baby, for her baby, and for so many others that I know of – both named and unnamed. I hold all of them close to my heart today.
|“Her absence is like the sky, spread over everything.” -C.S. Lewis|
The week has otherwise been a whirlwind. On Tuesday, I had an appointment for a hysterosonogram – a detailed look at my uterus to ensure that everything had healed properly and was looking good. I immediately became concerned when the doctor said nothing during the procedure, and his typical manner is to narrate out loud so that I know what is going on. At the end, he said that the images were abnormal. His best guess was leftover placental tissue from the D&C that I had done after delivery back in September, but he would need to do a follow-up, more invasive procedure to know for sure. He was also leaving town for a medical conference, and because of the timing in my cycle of when this procedure needed to take place, I would likely need to wait a month. I left thinking “Why me? Why can’t this just be over – why is it ONE MORE THING?”
Then yesterday morning I received a phone call very early to schedule the hysteroscopy for today. Doctor’s plans had changed for some reason and they could fit me in. YES – I will make that work; I’d much rather get it over with. This procedure would involve anesthesia, so there was quick planning with Ger that he would take care of getting the kids off to school/daycare while I drove to the surgery center, then he would meet me there to drive me home.
I arrived at the surgery center at 7:00 for pre-op. My heart was monitored and the nurse noticed the same little flicker that the hospital had noticed back in September. I told her that it had been found previously, but that the anesthesiologist had done an echocardiogram and determined it was nothing. She then got on the phone with the hospital to get the results of that test. At which point I remembered – the anesthesiologist had said something about doing the test “off the books” because he just wanted to verify it was nothing to worry about…. At the time I was grateful for one less thing I would likely be billed for, but now that the results were needed… I let the nurse know that this was likely the case. The hospital did have some trace monitoring that had been done, so that was faxed over and all was well.
The doctor came in to describe the procedure. I told him I was nervous – mostly about the outcome. He said that he was very confident that this was leftover tissue, and that this procedure was more of an “annoyance” than worrisome. That made me instantly feel better.
Then the anesthesiologist didn’t show up. Most facilities around here use a group practice, and the anesthesiologist had been sent to the wrong location. NOT close by. So he was 45 minutes late and the doctor and nurses had to sort of stand around waiting for him. Then he had to stick me THREE times before getting the needle inserted. Thankfully we were in the surgery room shortly thereafter, I was out, woke up and it was over. I remember the doctor talking to me and telling me that he did remove some tissue – that a D&C after a second trimester loss can be tricky, so he “cleaned” me out in what amounted to essentially a second D&C (at least that’s what I think he said – I was really woozy). The tissue will be sent to the lab for testing, just like the first round of tissue was, but he’s not anticipating anything unusual. He was pleased with the outcome of the procedure though. I’ll have a follow-up appointment next week.
After about an hour of recovery – where I had to prove that I could eat, drink, and stand up on my own – I was sent home. I had a prescription for anti-nausea medication and needed it. It made me pretty drowsy so I slept (or drifted in and out of sleep). I can still taste that anesthesia in my mouth – yuck. Minimal pain, thankfully. Should be much better tomorrow. I can’t take a bath for a day or so, but Ger suggested that I shower and maybe that will help to feel less gross.
I told my therapist that I am really struggling with the words “moving on” (which I almost used to end the above paragraph – hopefully this is over so I can move on). I described how moving on feels like forgetting, or “being ok.” She told me to think of some more positive affirmations, but also reminded me that words are just a label – and that if I’m not comfortable with those words, then I am still harboring some guilt and that is what she is trying to help me through. So I have been contemplating words to use that will help me to alleviate that guilt, but they have not come to me yet.