I walked in to the appointment nervous but excited.
After signing in and waiting, I was called back for the ultrasound. The technician was very sweet and was perfectly okay with me calling the IM and having her on the phone if it was what I desired. So after getting undressed and situated on the table, I called the Mom. Due to the time difference I knew I’d be waking her up.
We chatted for a bit, basic conversation and waited for the technician to find the baby. He was so much bigger, we both commented.
The mom asked a question, but the technician didn’t answer and I looked to her face to see worry had replaced her smile. My heart began to race. Things went blurry.
I tried to listen to the Mom and converse with her, but the technician whispered she needed to get the doctor. I knew then it was not good news and my body began to shake uncontrollably.
We didn’t wait long, the doctor came in promptly and the technician quickly showed him her concerns.
There was no heartbeat.
The baby was measuring right on schedule, even early. We were 10w6days and the baby was measuring 11w1day. His heart had stopped very recently.
The doctor asked me to hang up and I explained to IM that I would have to call her back.
That’s when the shaking really took over. I had no control. Tears, shaking, shock.
How could this be happening to them again? What am I doing wrong? What could have possibly caused this?
I don’t really recall what happened next. I believe I called my husband and asked him to come.
I know that I called back the IM; I know she knew something was wrong and I didn’t want to leave her drifting and anxious any longer than I needed to. The doctor helped me with that phone call.
The parents asked for a second ultrasound which we all more than willingly understood. The result did not change.
They wanted a second opinion, so my doctor sent orders to the hospital nearby and my husband and I went there to appease their request. I was still shaking uncontrollably.
The technician kept asking me to be still. I think the feeling of shock was wearing off and my body was reacting to sudden decrease in adrenaline. I couldn’t prevent the shaking. My teeth were chattering.
It was, for a third time, confirmed. The baby had died.
I feel sick writing this.
I woke hoping, praying this was all some horrible nightmare and was floored again by the grief that it is not.
I can’t believe it.
I failed. Again.
I know some of you reading this will repeat what everyone else (medical professionals included) have already told me. I “did everything right” and “this isn’t your fault.” But regardless of that bullshit- I set out with a dream to help a family…
a family (like so many others) that had suffered beyond what any family should have to bear…
A family that had a desperate dream to have children…
A family that I care very much for…
I set out to bring them joy and happiness. I set out to bring them something that would never replace or eliminate the suffering, but at least make it all worth it. I set out to bring them a baby and help them grow their family and… and instead of all that… I have leveled them again with suffering and disappointment.
I have hurt them again.
This crushes me.
I have failed.