Is it over yet?

Please don't read if graphic details will offend you.

Well, we have had a pretty horrible couple of days.
Sunday morning, Father's Day, I get up and plan on trying to make it especially good for Aaron. But before I can I discover that I had bled some; not a good sign in pregnancy. I do some quick research on the internet and am quickly more worried. So I wake up Aaron, not with a breakfast in bed, or a Father's Day present or anything, but with a concern. After some stressful failures at trying to get a hold of somebody to tell me what to do, (Sunday mornings are not a good time to reach people) I call a maternity ward at a hospital and tell them the situation. I am told to go to the ER. So, we pile into the car, pass by the church instead of attend it, drive through Saratoga Springs, through Lehi, over to American Fork to the hospital. We aren't a very quick drive away. But because the ER would cost us a $100 co-payment and a quickcare place would be only $15 we just asked the lady there if there is a quickcare place near by. We don't know anything around here. There is one in Orem, she says. So we drive back through American Fork to the freeway and travel to Orem. We guess on which exit to take and drive around looking for State street and end up doing a lot of back-tracking. We finally find the place, go in and are told that they don't have the necessary equipment for an ultrasound or anything. I would have to go to the ER. But wait, they say, if the bleeding isn't heavy and if you aren't in pain you can just go home and wait until you can see your doctor tomorrow. Okay.
So we spend a nerve racking day at home trying to take it easy.
Monday. First thing in the morning I call the clinic where I had set up an appointment earlier to meet with a midwife. I hadn't seen anyone yet about the pregnancy. After I tell them the story and of more blood they tell me to come in at 10:30. It seems to take forever for 10:30 to come around. I drop Morgan off with my cousins and went to the office. After routine paperwork and bloodpressure checks and such I finally get in with someone to do an ultrasound. Gooping up my stomach and placing the plastic tool on it reveals the sweet form of the baby growing in me. "Hi baby!" I say in my mind, a smile at my lips. Ultrasound tech moves the instrument around my abdomen, sometimes painfully, and freezes images and measures things. Then says, "I'm sorry Melanie, I'm not detecting any heartbeat." Oh. I think mine freezes momentarily as well. I rationalize that she must be wrong. Maybe if they get out the doppler thing they would detect one. But I know I'm grasping at straws.
I utter a fear. "What if we would have come in yesterday?" It's hard to know, she says, but then later informs me that the fetus died at 11 weeks and 2 days. That wasn't yesterday, at least.
I'm taken to another room to wait for the midwife. They leave me alone. I can see that being alone is dangerous to my composure so I scrounge for a magazine to distract me. Baby magazine. I don't wait long. A sympathetic stranger comes in. More I'm sorrys are said, I'm offered a box of tissues, though I don't need them. An introduction to my midwife. I note that she wears a pretty, stylish, summery, black dress. Not something I would expect to see in a doctors office. She asks and answers questions, gives information and warnings, everything though, seeps with sympathy. She seems sincere, and the gesture is nice, but please don't let me focus on me. Selfish thoughts also threaten my composure. I agree to call her a week away to talk about the progress of the passing tissue.
The drive home leaves me alone with no magazine to distract or with a promise of a confrontation with another person soon. Ah, but I have to pick up Morgan, my sweet and precious child. I do what's necessary to dissuade any well meant elicitations of my well-being from my cousins and take Morgan home.
Now a short phone call to my husband is what I can manage. He offers to try to come home, but I tell him to stay. He takes a vanpool to work 1 1/2 hours away. How could he get home? I tell other family members via text message. No voice control is necessary for that. My sister called my Mom for me.
A bad day. I manage to be extra productive though. Aaron arrives home at the regular time and we eat our dinner of steaks, potatoes and vegetables in our cleaner than usual kitchen. We watch a movie and go to bed.
Tuesday. Tuesday is easier. I'm doing good. Still productive, but that may be because I don't have any books to read. My dad, who is on a business trip here in Lehi, comes for a visit. Shortly after he leaves a bouquet of flowers from my parents is delivered. Morgan, who usually goes for a nap around 12:30-2:00 takes a late nap, due to having a visit from Grandpa. At 5:00 he is still sleeping. At 5:00 the cramps that started a bit before get worse and worse. I feel like I'm having a constant contraction. No respite. Morgan wakes at 6:00 and watches Elmo, sometimes breaking to show sympathy to moaning Mommy. The ibuprofen I was told to take to help with cramping doesn't seem to make a dent. I dream of an epidural. I find the best position for me is to kneel at the couch and rock. This is how I am when I expect Aaron to walk in. He doesn't. Only a few minutes late, but I notice every minute. I stand up and there is a sudden gush that I know my pad isn't going to be able to handle. I hurry to the bathroom, and the doorbell rings. The physical pain is now mostly subsided, but the worst of the emotional has arrived. My cellphone rings. I'm a mess. The doorbell again, then a voice. "Hello, Melanie? This is your Aunt LeeAnn. Can I come in?" Mom had talked to her and told her about my painful cramps. I tell her to come on in. "Are you okay?" I am unable to answer. Where is Aaron? I hear talking. I clean up and open the door and see Aaron; Aunt LeeAnn is holding Morgan on the couch. Aaron brings me fresh clothes. When I emerge Aunt LeeAnn is gone, after offering assistance with Morgan or dinner or anything we may need.
Aaron makes dinner while I shower. I bleed a lot. I can't manage to end the shower because there is always more to clean. I've never seen so much of my own blood. I finally get out after the water is turning cold, but still have a hard time escaping the bathroom without having to change a pad and clean up some more. I'm a bit worried and light headed. I go downstairs and voice my concerns to Aaron but quickly end up back in the bathroom. Huge blood clots pass. We call the midwife on call from the clinic. They say to go to the ER if you soak a pad every hour. I could barely last 2 minutes.
Nobody gets to eat much, but we have to go. Morgan doesn't seem to mind that we take him from his unfinished food, and is happy the whole evening. My dad had been on the way to our house to help give me a blessing, but we call him to meet us at the emergency room instead. He informs us that eastbound traffic on main street is stopped due to construction work at a railroad track. Thankfully he has a navigator gps in his car and we follow him as it takes us a different way to the hospital. Aaron drives fast which is vastly different than his normal driving, and I experience a return of the painful cramps.
At the hospital we first fill out paper work. I worry about not bringing another pair of pants. The triage nurse sees me, asks questions, takes blood pressure and gives me a hospital bracelet while apologizing that there will be about a half hour wait. I spend a lot of the time in the bathroom. Aaron gets some scrubs for me to wear. Morgan runs around pointing the the fish in the tank and playing on the chairs. I'm finally able to stay out of the bathroom long enough to go to an empty waiting room where Aaron and my dad give me a priesthood blessing. I was blessed with comfort, health and a rapid recovery. Not long after that we are summoned back to a different room. I am given a hospital gown, more pads and the special hospital underwear. When I go into the bathroom this time I notice a substantial decrease in bleeding. No big clots escape, and the pad isn't saturated. Maybe we should have just done the priesthood blessing at home and not worried about coming in.
Dad watches Morgan in the waiting room until my Aunt LeeAnn and Uncle Darrell arrive to take him to their house. Dad returns to work where he works the night shift.
A nurse asks questions, then a doctor asks questions, then someone comes and draws blood for tests, leaving the i.v. in my arm uncomfortably. I feel it all night. We wait. Someone comes to get insurance information. She empathizes with me about the miscarriage, having experienced 2 herself. Vitals are checked. We're told I'll have an ultrasound soon. Soon isn't until 11:00. The ultrasound reveals that all the birth tissue has passed, there only remains blood clots. This is good news, signifying they won't have to do a D&C or a pelvic exam. We return to our designated room and wait some more. The doctor finally returns and gives a little instruction on coming days. The i.v. is removed finally and with a signature we are released to go home. It's midnight, we're exhausted and hungry. We pick up our sleeping child and return home.