The Physical Side (Part 2)

Another warning that this is personal stuff and probably more suited to female readers.  Read at your own risk.

We were on our way to the hospital in Fergus Falls.  It was around 7 am and beginning to get light outside, which was very strange because we hadn't sleep and still felt like it was the middle of the long, dark night.  (In fact I almost titled these blog posts something about The Dark Night and The Dark Night Rises, but it was just too silly.) After a half hour of driving and trying not to let my thoughts wander into the terror and blood of the previous hours, we made it to the hospital.

They wheeled me into an Emergency room right away and a very kind nurse began helping me.  She said that the ER doctor would come and take a look at me and he'd probably have to do a pelvic exam.  Then if they needed more help they might call their OB doctor.  The ER doctor came and asked me questions.  I tried my best to explain everything without crying but was getting exhausted.  Yes, my third pregnancy.  Yes my second miscarriage.  When was your healthy pregnancy?  How did your second one end?  Are you in pain?  YES!  A lot!  Ugh.  Finally the questions ended.  Bert reminded me that we are in a new place and they have to ask everything. just in case.

The ER doctor returned and told me the famous, "scoot to the edge of the bed."  I thought to myself, "yeah right, I can't even sit up on my own."  Somehow, with Bert's help, I got down to the edge of the bed and put my feet in the stirrups.  What followed was definitely the worst part of the entire experience.  I cried and writhed as something I call the "speculum of satan" was plunged into me and the doctor tried to "just pull out some of the tissue that I see."  It would not be pulled out, even after much trying,  After the exam ended and my sobbing subsided it was agreed that I could have some pain medicine.  My wonderful nurse put in an IV with an extra big needle ("just in case we need to get you fluids really fast") that felt like sliding a carving knife into my wrist.  More tears.  Didn't really have much control at this point.  She gave me morphine and I started to feel less pain.  And shake.  Thankful for some relief.

The OB doctor was called and arrived a while later.  There's a lot of waiting in the ER because you don't have appointments.  It doesn't matter that you're freezing cold, shaking, and laying in a pool of your own blood.  You have to wait because everyone is busy doing the best they can to take care of you.  Overall I was very happy with my care, but that didn't make the experience quick and painless.  Guess what we got to do when the OB doctor came?  Another pelvic exam.  He was much better with the speculum, but I still sobbed and writhed from the pain of how tender everything was down there.  Then I started feeling a heavy weight on my chest and struggled to breath.  I couldn't get a deep breath, either from anxiety, exhaustion  asthma, or all of the above.  Our nurse leaned over me and hugged my head saying, "just take a big breath for me honey, it's ok."  I gasped repeatedly and tried but I could just barely get air through.

They told me that they (both doctors were at my feet for this exam/procedure) were able to clear out a lot of the material that was stuck in my cervix and had been able to extract what they thought was the placenta.  But we'd have to do an ultrasound to see if everything was out.  Otherwise I should have a D&C to make sure everything is cleared out and I don't die of infection etc.  Meanwhile I couldn't stop moaning, shaking, and was beginning to think about meeting Jesus.  It was so weird to be completely out of control of my body.  I remember thinking it was weird that I was scared about dying.  I always thought I'd be up for the chance to go home when the time came.  But I was still pretty scared and didn't want to leave Bert.

We asked the doctor if I could use my inhaler to help me breath easier.  He kindly ordered me some Benadryl and a nebulizer treatment.  After those treatments I was finally able to rest.  And my shaking started to get better.  I think it was around 10 am.  So almost 12 hours after when the pain started wrecking me.

Then came an ultrasound (PRAISE THE LORD it wasn't internal).  The tech we had was very kind and cared about what we were going through.  She asked us about Gwen.  She immediately noticed that there was much more to come out and my uterus was no where near empty.  The baby and placenta may have come out, but the lining was still very thick.  Same as before.  I told her that I have a sticky uterus and she laughed.

Sure enough a D&C was next.  I was amazed that I didn't have to go into an Operating Room.  They said they would just use my current IV to help me sleep and do the procedure in my same room.  When the OB doctor came I had one question, "how do you hold my legs up when I'm sleeping??"  This was still bothering me since my last D&C.  He laughed at my question and then said the nurses hold them, and sometimes they even tape the patient's feet onto the stirrups.  Weird.  Bert kissed me goodbye and went outside for my 10 minute surgery.  The doctor had reassured him that there was very little risk because my cervix was already so open that there shouldn't be any risk of infection and they should be able to get everything out easily and quickly.

I remember my feet being taped.  The third speculum of the day - boo.  And the nurses and doctor talking about going out of town for a basketball game or something.  Then, I was out.  I opened my eyes a while later to see Bert standing beside my bed staring at me with worried eyes.  He told me to go back to sleep.  I was warm and dry for the first time all day and night.  I had a lot of drugs in my system and it took me a while to fully wake up.  Bert stayed beside me with those precious worried eyes the whole time.  I felt relieved to be alive and with him.  I felt so full of love for him and glad we got to have more days together.

Eventually they let me leave the hospital, but I wasn't back to normal.  I felt pretty horrible and missed Gwen like crazy.  It was about 12:30 pm when we got back to my Aunt and Uncle's.  I couldn't walk on my own and was extremely weak. They told me in the hospital that my hemoglobin levels were down to 10.8.  (They were 9 after Gwen's birth.)  A regular number for me is around 13.

Everyone was very caring and sensitive towards me.  I think it was scary for them too to see me go through all of this.  I am so thankful for my wonderful family.  And I'm so thankful that my Mom was with me during the first half of everything.  She stayed with Gwen while we went to the hospital which was also a blessing.  God does set the parameters of our suffering and I'm thankful for all the edges where he provided and didn't allow things to go wrong.  Like in caring for Gwen and giving us great people at the hospital.

My healing from this physically has been difficult.  But I am determined to heal.  I haven't been able to care for Gwen which has been very sad for me.  She is such a source of joy in my life.  She has, however, been in good hands and having a great time with cousins and family.  I don't know how long this will take but I am slowly gaining my strength back.  And taking ibuprofen every 4 hours!  Ouch.

I am thankful to be alive, and heartbroken that Ezra's fragile body didn't come home with us.  I'm still thankful for Jesus and that God never left me alone through all my trauma.  He even woke up our dear friend to pray for us at 1:30 am on Friday. The song running through my head in the hospital was a way that God gave me the grace to press on, a reminder of his love and understanding of each pain:

Why should I feel discouraged, why should the shadows come,

Why should my heart be lonely, and long for heaven and home,

When Jesus is my portion? My constant friend is He:

His eye is on the sparrow, and I know He watches me