Last night, I was able to have a lovely steak dinner with my dad and my husband. Church and dinner on a Sunday night is a tradition for Dad and me but I told him about my miscarriage. I wouldn’t be able to sit still in a quiet congregation without a great deal of physical discomfort.
The pain got worse as the night went on. During Ray Donovan, I had to lie down on my bed. Eventually, i couldn’t take it. We took a cab to Roosevelt Hospital on 59th Street. My husband called my doctor, who thought it best as well.
That said, it was an awful experience. At every stage, my husband told the person in question “my wife is in tremendous pain” in the hopes of expediting the process. I gave a urine sample, which my husband took from my hand and gave to someone. Then someone demanded to know to whom he’d given it. They took my vitals and my blood. I’m A positive, which I didn’t know before. I mentioned having a D&C.
The doctor looked puzzled.
“You mean, you’re scheduled for a D&C here tomorrow?”
“No. My doctor said that if the miscarriage didn’t complete, I should have a D&C.”
“A D&C here?”
“Who’s your doctor?”
Two different doctors gave me a speculum exam and used their hands as well. Then, an ultrasound. My fourth ultrasound in eight weeks. It all hurt like hell. They finally gave me one percocet. It did almost nothing. My cervix was completed closed. I hadn’t passed the pregnancy. All of which I had suspected.
They thought I might be able to get a D&C the next day and told me not to eat anything, as I would have to fast eight hours prior to surgery. They called my doctor and gave her an update and sent me home.
My doctor called me this morning and said I was scheduled for a 3pm D&C with a colleague of hers, who I would meet at noon for a meet-and-greet, more for my comfort level than anything else. She reminded me not to eat. By the time I woke up at the hospital at 5:00pm today, I hadn’t eaten anything for 21 hours.
Meeting the surgeon at noon was such a great idea. We made sure that we were on the same page, that she had all of the information she needed. She answered all of my questions. And she had many of the same kind, warm, holistic qualities as my OBGYN.
I was asleep for the surgery. The entire team in the room with me was extremely nice, though I’ll never understand why I had to give my name, birthdate and allergies no fewer than six times to multiple people. Filling out paperwork on nine hours of sleep over three nights and no food was torture.
My husband picked up delicious Italian food for us. I hadn’t had pasta or Coke Zero in months. We watched TV and cuddled. I must’ve thanked him a dozen times over the last few days.
My doctor called and asked how the procedure went and if I was okay. She’d already spoken with the surgeon who said it had gone well but she really wanted to check in with me. When I think of all of the emails and phone calls she both fielded and made in the last eight weeks, I realize how very lucky I was to have found her, how grateful I am to my friend who recommended her.