This past Sunday I ended up in the ER for several hours due to massive bleeding. I had believed the worst of the miscarriage was over, because I’d been bleeding for almost 3 weeks already and things seemed to be slowing down. Sunday afternoon proved otherwise and I ended up spending the evening/wee hours of Monday morning in the ER being assessed. A dear friend took care of me while in the ER and then drove me home after being discharged with a prescription for Vicodin and strict instructions for bed rest and to keep letting things happen naturally. My Mama flew in Monday morning to take care of the kids and by Tuesday afternoon, I was feeling better physically. Cut to yesterday afternoon and the shit hit the fan – thankfully it hit the fan while I was already at my follow-up appointment at my midwives’ office. (I must say, I loved the people who took care of me in the ER, including my uncle, who’s a doctor there and was on the phone the whole time, making sure I was getting the care I needed, but I was very upset that the follow-up with the gynecologist I was supposed to have on Tuesday never happened, due to the fact that they never called me back until yesterday morning. At 8am. I make it a rule to never answer the phone while I’m still sleeping.) Thankfully, everyone at the midwife group is incredibly kind and caring and they took care of me and I was even able to speak with their psychiatrist, which was wonderful, considering I was an emotional basket-case…
… and I still am. I mean, I’m not crying all the time, but I am just sad and I am grieving and I need space and time to heal. Since I had thought the worst was over, I felt like I had begun to heal, that things were going to be okay, and when I found out that I wasn’t through with all of this yet, I realized I felt like I was taking 5 steps back in the grieving/healing process and that was not okay with me. Talking with Dr. Marsh yesterday was very helpful and I am so grateful that she was available to speak with me when I needed it the most… someone to just tell me that what I’m feeling is normal.
Also incredibly grateful for those who have continued to pray for us; for my Mama being here to take care of us; for the cards, emails and texts people have sent; for the generosity and kindness of my friends & family who have gone through this with me; and for the amazing medical care I have received. Not so grateful for the Vicodin, which I now realize is not the drug of choice for me as it has been giving me migraines, but certainly thankful for all of the ice cream I have consumed lately.
Other than being emotionally worn-out and the occasional crazy physical process of all of this, I’m doing as well as can be expected. Sad, but happy to be surrounded by my sweet children who are more than happy to give cuddles and love and watch movies and read with me. Hurt, but know someday I won’t hurt as much.
Mama is here until Tuesday night and so my hope is that my body continues to do what needs to be done and that by the time she leaves I will be on my way to a full recovery… physically and emotionally. Praying that’s the case.