The Hospital

Well, we are finally here, to the end of the process, the hospital.  I hope I do this experience justice because when you are heading in for the D&C, you have no idea what you are getting into and I'd like to at least help one woman, not go in totally unprepared. 

Registering
We got to Hillcrest, where I was supposed to have gone for a tour of the maternity unit, where I would be giving birth, not where I was going to go to lose my baby.  That was my first thought at least.  Here I was, at this new place, wondering around, looking like a crazy person.  Thankfully my husband looked presentable and was much more put together.  We got to the registration desk and I gave her my name and of course she asked the "question" I didn't want to answer.  "What are you here for?"  I said "I'm here for the D&C procedure as I just had a miscarriage."  I got ready to cry but knew I just wanted to finish this process so I held it in.  She said I wasn't in the system yet and she told me to have a seat.  We sat down and I cried.  I explained to Alex that I didn't want to be here and didn't want to do this.  He asked me if I'd like to go home, which of course, annoyed me so I stopped crying to yell at him for asking such a terrible question.  Thankfully, before I could continue to be mean to him, she called my name.  I registered and she told me where to go next.  We started walking and I started crying, hard.  In the middle of the walkway, in front of everyone in the lobby I sobbed.  Alex hugged me and just let me cry.  I told him I couldn't do it, I could go through with it, I wanted this baby, I wanted to be having the baby, not having it removed.  I stopped sobbing long enough to realize I needed to at least get out of the way and start walking.
We reached the surgery department and they told me to have a seat to wait for my name to be called.  They gave Alex a buzzer (like at a restaurant) and told them that after I went in, they would buzz him when he was able to come in.  At this statement I cried and told Alex I couldn't go in and do this alone.  We went and sat down as Alex tried to figure out how to sneak in with me so I would calm down.  We sat next to two people who were talking about their neighbor and I sobbed.  They didn't even look at me (thank God) they just kept talking as we sat and waited.  Then they called my name.

The Room
The nurse brought me back and told me I would wait in the room but first I needed to change into a hospital gown, with nothing else.  I explained to her that I was bleeding so she told me I could wear hospital underwear and a pad.  I asked if I could just keep my own, but you can't go into surgery with anything from your home.  I got a pair of white, mesh, one size fits all, hospital underpants, which were ridiculous and at least gave me a laugh.
She came back in and asked me about my miscarriage.  She told me I was handling it better than "some" women that come in for a D&C and then went on to explain to me how, even though she's never had one, she can't imagine it is really that hard, since you don't bond with your baby until they are born.  OF COURSE I wanted to slap her right across the face, but I was to exhausted to even deal with it, so I let her continue with her explanation on how a miscarriage isn't "that big of a deal" while she put in my IV.  Thankfully the pain of the IV insertion allowed me to forget about how awful this woman was.
Finally, she stopped telling me how easy this was going to be and left the room.  Alex came a few minutes later and I did feel better but I certainly didn't feel good.

2pm- We are waiting and talking (random nurses stop by, interns come in and I use the restroom)

3pm- We are waiting and talking and I'm crying (I've used the restroom again and more random DR have stopped by)

4pm- We are waiting and talking, I've now stopped crying and then I realize that while I'm SUPER annoyed that I've been sitting in this room alone for so long, this is the first time Alex and I have had "alone" time with absolutely nothing to do and I tell him that it is almost "nice" for us to have the time together, alone, it is just too bad it has to be under these circumstances.

5pm- Yes, we are now into my 3rd hour of being there when a nurse comes in and explains that there has been a large number of women coming in to deliver their babies (no, I don't cry when she says this) and that the DR got busy and we'll now have to wait for the next shift to start.  The DR should be in soon and we should be in surgery by 6:30pm.  At this point I do yell a bit and tell her that I'd be happy to let the janitor perform the procedure if that would mean it would just be over finally.  She does not find this to be funny and tells me that someone very qualified must perform this, not just anyone.  I tell her I was kidding, she still didn't find it funny.  Typing it now, I don't think it is very funny either...

6:20pm- Mind you these hours DRAG by and are really tormenting me but I'm trying my best here to calm down and relax.  It isn't easy but when the DR finally comes in, I am beyond thrilled.  He's a wonderful man, calm, handsome and very organized.  He doesn't ask stupid questions, he just sits down and explains what is about to happen, how long it will take and how I'll feel.  His name is Dr. Andersen and he works at the Cleveland Clinic office in Independence.  He's just amazing.  Once he's through, he says that we are going to head back.

6:30pm- The nurse comes to roll me back.  She's very friendly and makes jokes as we roll along.  She rolls me all the way to surgery and ALMOST rolls me into the wrong room, where a surgery is taking place.  I find this to be a bit stressful but before I can even think of how horrible that would have been, we are in my room.

The anesthesiologist comes over and speaks to me through her mask.  I find it odd I never see her face but she continues to tell me what she's about to do and that everything will be over soon.  Hmm, I guess that's good.  The room is bright and white and they have to strap my arms down as well as "buckle" me in to the bed.  I do explain to them that I didn't plan on trying to escape, so I didn't know if all this was necessary and they then explain to me that it is standard.  My biggest dread is having to put my feet into those stirrups, you know the ones at the office.  I just can't imagine having to get all situated like that in order for them to take out the baby.  Then I see all the equipment they use for the D&C and I wished at that minute I hadn't looked around, it is nothing good to see.  Then the oxygen mask goes on and in a few quick seconds I am out cold.  I have one final thought before I fall asleep and that was "Thank God I can finally stop thinking about this."

9:00pm- Yes, the D&C takes 20 minutes but the time it takes to wake from anesthesia varies from person to person.  It obviously took me a while.  They tell you that you have to drink water, walk and urinate before they can release you from the hospital.  In a matter of minutes I have had water and am walking to the bathroom to urinate.  All I want to do is go home.  The nurse comes back and is shocked I'm up and walking around.  She ask me if I'd like to leave and I tell her that I would like to leave this second.  She said the DR would like to see you before you leave and I tell her that if he's not available immediately, I would just as well prefer to head home and he can call me.  She agrees and we head out in the mandatory wheelchair.  Alex pulls the car around and we are off.

That's it.  I leave "empty" and that's the only word I have to describe how I felt.  It wasn't sad, it wasn't angry, it wasn't depressed, it was "empty."  Not the way you think, not in a way I've ever felt before but I felt as though everything I had that mattered was gone.  I know that wasn't the case, but that's how my heart, soul and body felt.  Empty.

Now for the emotional roller coaster starts and I'll save that for another section.  Post miscarriage was dreadful and awful. 


Looking for something to read? 

Miscarriage: Women Sharing from the Heart

Our Stories of Miscarriage: Healing With Words

What Was Lost: A Christian Journey Through Miscarriage

Empty Arms: Hope and Support for Those Who Have Suffered a Miscarriage, Stillbirth, or Tubal Pregnancy

Run to You:: A Guide Through Miscarriage