It was over before I was able to begin.
As I was running towards the ER with blood gushing from my legs, I was reminded of an old movie scene where the woman was sprawled on the bathroom floor crying and screaming on her pool of blood. I guess it was alarming for those inside the waiting room but as usual I was ever the indifferent sort and just blurted out “miscarriage”. Even the admitting nurse was more concerned than I was when he let out an “oh shit” remark.
I was directed to the OB/GYN section to dispel everything then bleed some more. I also saw the little baby about an inch and a half long with the head and the beady eyes. It was as if a dream but the pain kept it oh so real. I endured it because I thought I would be free from the D&C procedure but I was wrong when the result of the ultrasound came up. If I only knew this, I would not have suffered through the expectant management process in the first place! Well, according to my mother I was very pale probably because of the loss of blood and the pain and I have this uncontrollable shaking the whole time.
Prior to all this drama, I already knew that there was something wrong the day before. That Saturday (August 11), I had this tiny light brown spot so I immediately went to visit the doctor. She advised for an ultrasound that I did that afternoon. The technician/nurse that was performing the ultrasound was a little bit edgy when I asked if there was a heartbeat. She even asked for assistance from her supervisor so that time I knew that the baby was gone. At that point I was trying to determine what I am feeling. I was sad but it was not something earth shattering. Am I really that unemotional? After I called the result to my doctor she said to come back to the clinic on Monday which was after two days.
Sunday morning came and the bleeding started. I asked if I should go to the hospital or wait for tomorrow and she said if the bleeding amounts to more that the regular period I should go to the hospital. We decided to watch the Cirque du Soleil Saltimbanco at 5pm to let Iya experience a real circus. As a contingency measure, I packed my overnight bag because at the back of my mind I knew that I would probably spend the night in the hospital. And I was right. While we were walking to the parking lot, I felt a sudden gush of blood and I knew that I only have a few minutes. On our way to the hospital the intermittent pain was familiar so I was really pestering Henry to drive faster. It was so frustrating that we even got lost in Manila! It was really sheer luck that we came just before I made a mess inside the car. We really should map out our route next time…
So here I am three weeks after. Looking back, I now know why I did not announce the good news aside from my family and friends who sincerely ask how I was. It was to save myself from telling them the bad news that will continually remind me of what I lost.
posted from Bloggeroid