Admitted to the hospital

I drove down to the hospital in Philly the next day, Wednesday June 24th. I was 20 weeks pregnant. Matt met me there, and we waited to see the doctor.

We sat in the waiting room, which was full of pregnant women. I can't be certain, but at the time they all seemed like perfectly blissful, healthy pregnant women without a care in the world. A girl a few seats away had her newborn daughter with her, and was talking to the other women in the waiting room about how easy her delivery was. I tuned out as well as I could, but man that felt so unfair.

They brought us back and did an ultrasound again. I laid back and held Matt's hand, held back tears, and secretly hoped that there wasn't a heartbeat. But there it was, healthy and strong.  I think the tech tried to hide it from me too. There was no grand announcement of the heartbeat this time, and she told me that if I heard anything, it was just the sound of the blood flowing through the umbilical cord. 

It broke my heart.. 

The doctor looked at the ultrasound, confirmed the findings everyone else had, and tried to get a look at the placenta as well. Afterwards, we sat down and she went over the different processes for termination. I asked about carrying her until she passed on her own. Thinking about that now, it sounds noble, but waking up every day to wait for your baby to die inside you just sounds awful. I wouldn't even realize most likely, since I still hadn't felt her move. The doctor really advised against this anyway, because of my early preeclampsia symptoms. She told me that if I proceeded with the pregnancy, I would continue to get very sick.

So I agreed to terminate the pregnancy. I felt backed into a corner, but I also felt like it wasn't my decision anymore. If I chose to carry, I could get really sick. My baby didn't have a chance either way. I didn't even think of my own health until now, but I knew I wanted another shot at a healthy pregnancy, and I didn't want to jeopardize that. So I was scheduled to come in the next week for the procedure. It was the soonest she was able to do it with backup that was necessary.

(FYI, summer is not a good time to have any kind of urgent care done, doctors go on vacations like crazy.)

She went on to check my vitals, and I guess she didn't like my blood pressure, it must have been pretty high. Why would my blood pressure be high? I'm only sitting at the doctor's, getting the worse news ever, that my baby has no chance, and that I'm getting sicker by the minute! Oy. Anyway, she spoke with her colleague in the hallway, and came back in to tell me that she recommended that I be hospitalized right away. The way my blood pressure was, I was at risk for stroke, and she didn't feel confident that I would be okay until next week.

So I was scheduled for surgery the very next day. I think that's when Matt and I actually realized that this was serious. I was scared.