A rotten week

It has been a bad, bad week.

First, Baby M managed to come down with the flu* despite having had the flu shot in the fall. She was miserable, and I must observe that there is nothing sadder than a 17-month-old who has the shakes from a 104.5 degree fever. She spent a good bit of time limp in our arms and spent a couple of fitful nights in our room because I was too worried to leave her in her crib. It was exhausting for all of us.

Coupled with the worry and stress of having a sick baby, was the stress of juggling her care during a particularly busy work week. Because we were interviewing candidates for a faculty position in my department, there were meetings, job talks, and lunches with candidates that I could not miss. This meant that J and I spent the week frantically shuffling what we could shuffle and trying not to fight about whose commitments were more important at any given moment. We managed to muddle through, but it was not pretty and by week's end we were both exhausted from it.**

On Friday, I woke to light pinkish-brown spotting. It stopped quickly and I had no cramping so I wasn't terribly worried. I called the nurse for reassurance and she felt that it was probably just irritation from the progesterone suppositories given that I was having no heavy cramps. Even so, she put me in with my OB so that I wouldn't spend the next week (until my 8 week appointment) worrying.

At my appointment, the OB went through the checklist again:

Any more spotting? No? Good.
It was brown, not red? Yes? Excellent.
Still having nausea? Yes? Good sign.
Strong cramping/ contractions? No. Very good.
So let's take a look.

Out came the ultrasound machine. First he tries the abdominal probe. I see my uterus and the black gestational sac and nothing else. He says he is having a hard time scanning through because of my retroverted uterus, so let's try the internal probe, OK?

Again, he scans. Again a black hole. Nothingness. Nurse and doctor exchange looks. The nurse moves Kleenex box closer to the exam table.

"I'm concerned because by now we should see the contents of the gestational sac," he says at last.

"Blighted ovum?" I ask, knowing the answer already. I am calm, detached.

"It is certainly suspicious," he concedes.

He decides that I should return in a week to confirm. If I haven't passed it on my own by then, I can either take a pill to induce contractions or I can schedule a D&C. ***

So I am pregnant, but not. My breasts ache, my tummy is bloated, waves of nausea grip me, and I am in the grips of that bone deep fatigue that is exclusive to pregnancy. But there will be no baby. No payoff for the hard work my body has done. No sweet baby kicks and no ultrasound peeks at my sweet one. Nothing.

I'm OK. I've shed no tears. I am numb. I am empty.




*This was confirmed with a rapid flu test at the pediatrician's office.
**On the bright side, Baby M is feeling better and should be able to return to her center on Monday.
***Thoughts on this?