Life Updates,  Miscarriage,  Pregnancy

My D&C Part 2: In The ER

This is Part 2 of my D&C story. To read Part 1, click here.

The nurse tried three times to get a reading on my blood pressure. It was low. My husband had to relay most of the information to the nurses for me–I could only speak in the moments between cramps. I had my eyes closed most of the time…still keeping the cold washcloth over my forehead. I had no more nausea, but the dizziness was taking over. After a few minutes in triage, they moved me to a room.


As I changed into a gown, I realized that I wasn’t wearing a bra. I laid in the bed, still dealing with the horrid pains. They did seem to slow down at this point, and I had maybe three to five minutes between them. A P.A. came in asking questions just as a fresh wave of cramping started. I had to focus on working through it, and she said, “I need you to talk to me.” Not gonna lie, that kinda pissed me off, but thankfully that was the only negative interaction I had with her or anyone else. I just answered when I could, and explained that I was having a miscarriage and all of the events of my pregnancy thus far. She decided to check me.

“You’re passing a lot of tissue”, she said pretty quickly. I couldn’t see what she was doing, but my poor husband had a pretty good view. Thankfully, he doesn’t scare easily. The P.A. started trying to remove the tissue, saying that she couldn’t get to some of it, although she could see it. She used a few different tools, including what I’m sure were long tweezers (seriously cringing just thinking about it). It was uncomfortable, but not really painful–until I had a cramp while she was digging around in my cervix. “I can see why you’re cramping so much.” I guess my body was trying so hard to pass everything, but my cervix wouldn’t open.

Before leaving, she mentions getting some blood work done. I’m still cramping every five minutes or so. Sometimes there’s space between them, sometimes there’s several minutes of cramping with no breaks. I alternate between holding onto the bed rails and holding onto my husband’s hand. During the waiting I think to ask what time it is–6:30AM. I was completely shocked. The last time I’d looked at a clock (before everything started taking a very intense turn) it was barely 3AM. Little did I know, we still had a long way to go.

Nurses came in to draw my blood, and things happened pretty slowly. It was probably another hour before I started getting the results (which meant nothing to me), and they finally decided on a course of action. I was given cytotec orally, to stop the bleeding. I thought this was odd, because my doctor had just prescribed cytotec for me to get things started with the miscarriage. But I took it anyways. They also (FINALLY) gave me some toradol for the pain. It was a shot in the butt, and when the nurse administered it I was going working through another cramp. The shot burned so badly that it’s pain distracted me from the pain of the cramps.

After the shot, I had to lay on my side. I was facing the wall, back turned to my husband, grasping onto the bed rails with each wave of cramping. I was somehow able to very briefly doze between each cramp. An hour later, the pain meds finally kicked in. I could still feel the cramps, but I was no longer writhing around, wailing in pain. My HCG results came back, and they were down to 4800. I thought this was pretty promising, and they decided to get me an ultrasound to see where to go next.

Around 9AM I was wheeled into an ultrasound room. My cramps were completely manageable at this point, but the ultrasound ended up being one of the most horrifically painful moments of the entire ordeal. The technician pressed on my cervix so hard, and it was already so tender. I’ve never had pain like that in my life. She didn’t say anything throughout, and I thought it would never end. I asked her if she could still see the sac, and she said, “Yes, but it’s not in the area that you described–it’s lower in the uterine cavity.”

At that point, I felt two distinct emotions: relief and irritation. Relief, because my doctor was wrong–the baby was NOT in the muscle wall. Irritation because he’d had me worrying for weeks that I’d need a serious surgery for my “rare” (his words) condition. And yes, angular pregnancy is very uncommon. HOWEVER, it is NOT interstitial. Everyone that I spoke with in the hospital was confused about my doctor’s interpretation of the matter. I’m having some serious thoughts about switching doctors, but that’s for another post.

As I cleaned myself up from the ultrasound, I caught a glimpse of my baby on the screen–the last time I ever saw him or her. Thinking of that moment still shatters me completely. The sac around the baby looked crumpled–moreso than the ultrasound I’d had less than 24 hours previously. It was so sad, and I could hardly bear it.

I got back to my room, and soon a surgeon came in to introduce himself. He was so kind, and explained what he thought was best for my situation. He recommended a D&C, and we knew it was the right decision. He gave me the option to wait and see if I could pass things on my own, but said that there were no benefits to waiting. Everything was in a good place to do the surgery. I didn’t want to continue having the pain for who knows how long. I was ready to move on and begin my recovery process, so I signed the consent forms and let my family know what was going on.

Read Part 3

Read Part 4