Miscarriage: Part 1

Fact: 1 in 4 pregnancies will end in either miscarriage, stillbirth, or infant death.
 
I can hardly believe that hours ago I heard a heartbeat and now, nothing. 
How delicate human life is, there one minute gone the next. 

17th June 2020
The day had started like any other day. Our home is always noisy; sounds of kids laughing, crying, fighting, playing. The only difference was, I was worried and anxious, I had spent most of the previous day at the hospital, 6 weeks 6 days pregnant and bleeding.

The ultrasound scan had renewed my hope, there was a heartbeat, cause of bleeding was not known, I was told that sometimes it just happens. Pregnancy support hormone (duphaston), folic acid in hand. I went home, much happier than I had arrived. All would be well. 

On this day, the bleeding got heavier as the day progressed, then I noticed the clots. I was anxious, scared, worried. I called my Ob/Gyn and he said I needed to get to the nearest hospital to get a scan.

I drove like a mad woman, in so much pain; the cramps were horrible. I had to breath and count through each wave. I was in denial, I refused to call them what they were, strong contractions. Admitting they were contractions was for me, admitting defeat and failure. 

I got to the hospital, I was in so much pain I could not stand up straight. I waited a few minutes then, forced myself to stand up straight and walk. I found a young man at the reception, explained I needed emergency care, at this point the blood was trickling down my legs and pooling in my sandals and on the floor. I was so embarrassed!

I asked for help and he led me to the bathroom to clean up. I was rushing out of the house and had only grabbed my bag and car keys. I did my best to clean up with what I had. Then went to the emergency area. A short explanation later I was given a bed in a little room to the side, as the beds in the emergency room were full. 

I was given painkillers via IV, the pain reduced but did not subside. I waited one agonizing hour for the Ob/Gyn on duty at this hospital to finish his rounds. I lay there sending up all sorts of prayers. 

I learnt something that day; people will try to take advantage of your vulnerability. After I had gone in for the ultrasound and received the sad news. The team that I had been mentally willing to work faster before was now all efficiency. Paperwork drawn up, hospital gown brought for me to change into, the Dr. insisted I had to go into theatre for *dilation and cutterage (D&C) otherwise I would get an infection and suffer greatly for not taking the right measures.

My pleas to be released to go home to my kids fell on deaf ears. I was told I must spend the night and would go home the next morning. I was so confused, alone, scared. I had not fully processed anything. When I asked them to give me a moment to compose myself and get a grip on the situation, they acquiesced.

I cried for a few minutes, then decided to text my Ob/Gyn who had been checking in on me most of this time. I texted him and updated him; he conveyed his condolences, then asked if I had been told what comes next. I explained to him what the Dr. and nurse had just told me. He asked if that was the option I wanted to take, and I was stunned, I had options, as in plural?!!

He called me immediately and we discussed what options there were. He explained that I could opt for *oral medication that would set the process in motion, or I could go under anesthesia for d&c. I asked for the pros and cons for both, we discussed them briefly and I told him I would opt for the tablets. 

I felt so let down coming off the phone. I had specifically asked the Dr. and nurse if there was any option other than having a procedure, and they had said there wasn't, this was the only way. Were they taking advantage of my vulnerability? The procedure and overnight hospital stay was going to cost more. 

When the Dr. came back in, I asked him about the oral method, he had the decency to look ashamed. He mumbled that he had not told me about it because it is not advisable as it has risks. I asked him what treatment does not run any risks?

I told him I would take my chances with the tablets. He asked the nurse to bring a card for me to leave them with my information and insisted I go back to him for review after a week. Twenty minutes and a few thousand shillings later, armed with tablets, heavily padded. I made my way home. 

I got home, checked in on my babies; once they were all sound asleep, I prepared to take the dreaded tablets, three of them, under the tongue. The way the Dr. had tried to discourage me, I had images of bleeding out and dying in my bed.

I lay the bed after laying down a huge plastic bin-liner the nurse had kindly given me, I took a bath, I told myself I was not going to die unbathed to be found smelly. I filled my bedside table with a tray of tea, juice, water, painkillers, extra pads, phone charging, Bible. All within reach, if I was going to be clutching for anything as I died, it would at least be useful; or have the ability to maybe save me or secure me a place in heaven. 

The side effects set in mere minutes after I put the tablets under my tongue. I was shaking violently, my stomach felt like it was being wrung from the inside like a rag, I needed to go to the bathroom immediately and was shaking so much I could not stand up, so I crawled there. The diarrhoea was violent but worked its way out of my system very fast, two trips and that was it!

I was freezing, I felt chilled to the bone, I was glad I was prepared, two extra duvets later, and I was able to drift off into sleep. I do not know how but one minute I thought I was surely dying and the next I was waking up drenched in sweat and feeling quite close to normal. The bleeding at the hospital had been heavier. If this was it, I was well on my way to physically healing. 

I took care to monitor the flow over the next two weeks, I couldn't believe that someone I was fighting to keep safe and alive was now the very thing I was praying would be completely removed from inside me. 

I woke every morning to the sad reminder of what had happened, and I sort of developed a sad routine. I would weep uncontrollably and beg forgiveness for failing my child; then I would pray for him/her; then I would lay there a few minutes wondering what they would have been like; then I would force myself out of bed and the day would start.

I went to see my Ob/Gyn after 14 days. I had bled for 12 of those 14 days. I was given a thorough check and all was back as it should be. After a discussion about what to expect and how to count my days moving forward, I was out of there and ready to go back to life as it had been or was to be. 

Lessons learnt.
1. Please educate yourself as much as possible if you unfortunately find yourself in situation like this. You have a right to ask as many questions as possible before you agree to any medical procedures. If you are not getting satisfactory answers, do more digging, for example seeking another medical opinion.
2. If you have had an Ob/Gyn that you have been seeing for a while, stick with them. Chances are they know your history and will have your back. 

*Dilation and curettage.
This is also called D&C. This is a procedure to remove any remaining tissue from the uterus. Your provider dilates (widens) your cervix and removes the tissue with suction or with an instrument called a curette. The cervix is the opening to the uterus that sits at the top of the vagina.

*Oral medication / tablets
Medicine. Your provider may recommend medicine that can help your body pass the tissue that's still in the uterus.
Definitions from google. 

Look outy for Part 2 tomorrow