cannady

Written Sunday, June 30, 2012:

I just got electricity back after 48 hours without it. At least it wasn't out for a full week.

**MENTS, about a loss... but maybe you'll laugh **






My next death metal band is going to be named "Blackout miscarriage."

We lost power on Friday, which was the same day we had the ultrasound and found out there wasn't a fetal heart rate anymore. Because it was a Friday, my midwife said we wouldn't find a doctor who would be available to do a D&C procedure... so I'd have to wait, and if the "cramps or bleeding got severe," I could "just" go to the E.R. Riiiiight. More on that in a minute.

Silly me - I wasn't worried. I'd had a miscarriage before, and it was no big deal. Just felt like a heavy menstrual period that first time. And this time, I was only just barely spotting and cramping on Friday, so I thought... "No big deal." (In retrospect, I have to point out - there is a big difference between miscarrying at 6 weeks and miscarrying at 10 weeks.)

Well. The timing of the power outage in the mid-Atlantic US coincided exactly with my miscarriage. My husband likes to say my magical powers are THAT strong... I go into miscarriage labor, and blow out a power grid from the power of my misery. I am probably not quite *that* powerful.

While I was expecting a bit of "discomfort," holy hell, I was not expecting to basically GO INTO LABOR.

Anyway, Friday night, I was OK. Had some wine, and relaxed. Talked with DH and a visiting friend, and we were dealing with the emotions.
Enjoyed watching the massive storm from our porch. Talked about the power of nature, and felt like life was still pretty awesome, despite our bad news.

But then Saturday night rolled around. The cramps started to get stronger. So I tried to stay busy, cleaning the bathroom (in candlelight, no less). And then I realized my cramps were coming more and more often, and much more strongly. OH. RIGHT. LABOR. I was too hot, soaked in sweat from pain and the 90 degree temps outside... but couldn't talk... tore off my clothes. Called my DH, who found me, rocking in "child's pose" in the middle of the living room carpet. Points to him for not screaming and running out the door. You know how you know your pain is probably a number 8 or 9 on the pain scale? You act and sound like an animal. Language is not entirely possible. You make grunting sounds and don't care who sees you naked.

When I realized I was actually having contractions, we went to the E.R. The only problem was that *everyone* was at the E.R. After all, nobody had electricity on a weekend that was blistering hot. Anyone with asthma or breathing difficulty or heart trouble was going to be there. The triage folks were nice enough, but bluntly said I was at the bottom of the list. (Note: Never tell the E.R. that you already know there's no fetal heart beat. This will make you a low priority.) I knew I probably needed a D&C, but I was too uncomfortable to sit in the waiting room all night. (Note: Never have a miscarriage on a weekend in the U.S. It doesn't matter how much pain you're in - if it's not immediately life-threatening, you are not a priority.)

Luckily, I had some spare Vicodin from egg retrieval day, so... that saved me last night. Went home, took vicodin, and slept.

This morning, we went to the pharmacy for some pain meds, but when the pharmacist said they hadn't received the prescription, I just broke down and cried, sitting in the pharmacy. I was so tired of ... everything, and healthcare people not being helpful, and being uncomfortable... and... all of it. But I finally got a prescription for more pain relief.

I just went to go pee, and the entire sac just slipped out, without any pain whatsoever. I am ever on the quest for answers, though, so I put it in a clean "Horizon Organic Cottage Cheese" container to bring to pathology at the OB.

Note: I don't actually have a death metal band.

Note 2: I was tempted this afternoon to ask my pregnant neighbor if I could store my m/c in her cooler. That would have been appropriate, right? She said, "Gosh, being pregnant during a power outage is so hard." I was really tempted to reply ominously, "I know something that's harder...."

Note 3: Probably should have labeled the container better - like with a large skull and crossbones... or should have reminded James that the Horizon Cottage Cheese container did not contain what he hoped....