Tuesday, March 20, 2012


April 5 is quickly approaching.

The anticipation is killing me. I have found that I am constantly on edge lately, and even the smallest things can set me off into a you-shut-your-mouth-because-you've-never-watched-your-baby-die homicidal rage.

The more I see my doctor, the worse this rage gets.

Doc L said a cerclage would be an option after several weeks of monitoring for cervical changes, even though he doesn't think there is a cervical issue. He waited until last minute to put in orders for Radiology to check them. Incorrectly, might I add. It took 3 hours and 4 trips between clinics to just get an appointment booked.

I wanted a second opinion from an outside specialist. The clinic said I had to get one from another clinic doctor first.

Doc J wanted to do a colposcopy because three previous Paps had shown some pre-cancer cells. She wanted to check to make sure they weren't getting worse or likely to cause any issues. She did cervical checks herself, and she wanted to do a cerclage right there because it looked like my cervix was funneling. After sitting in the clinic all day with nothing to eat and freaking out because I was there alone, it turned out that it wasn't funneling so the cerclage could wait. She decided not to do the colposcopy because I had already been through so much.

Doc L now says, after only one measurement, that a cerclage is most likely not needed because he just doesn't feel in his heart of hearts that it's a cervical issue and the last pregnancy was just a recurrent miscarriage fluke. He will keep monitoring for changes over the next few weeks, but he doesn't see any reason for me to be considered high risk after 20 weeks. After that, I don't have to worry about miscarriage.


Oh, and he also doesn't think it's necessary to see a high risk specialist. So no referral. I talked to the Tricare representative, and she said that if he doesn't give me a referral, my only option is to drop my coverage and pay for it myself.

Let me re-iterate that, just so we can both be on the same page with that statement. People all over this country can't get treatment because they don't have insurance coverage. But I have to DROP my coverage to get it. Does that make sense to anyone else?

I am 16 days away from being 18 weeks+1 day, exactly one year to the day after losing my son at 18 weeks+2 days. There were no visible cervical changes. I was in the exam room following up a bad ER visit with contractions and a uterus full of blood. The doctor said everything looked perfect because his ultrasound screen didn't show any blood. Four hours later I caught my son in my hands and held him, helplessly watching him die.

But I am supposed to calmly listen to this guy, without question, because his heart tells him it was just a fluke?

Deep in what's left of my heart, I would never wish the pain of child loss on anyone. But lately, more than anything, I want these people to live my nightmares and flashbacks. I want them to be terrified of pissing in the middle of the night. I want them to desperately pray there's no blood when they're getting undressed. I want them to know what it's like to live with that image of a struggling, dying baby burned into their brains. I want them to understand why being pregnant isn't so easy, especially after a traumatic loss. Or, in my case, two traumatic losses. I want them to know what it's like to wonder day after day if you will ever get to hear your baby cry, to hold them and bring them home in something other than an urn.

Loss is all I have ever known of pregnancy. How can he, or anyone else, expect me to not be scared?


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