pain

On March 3 I was scheduled to see my doctor and hopefully find out the "flavor" of the baby. Chris was there and we had Leah with us. The ultrasound started. I saw a head and a spine developed. I never see what the doctor tries to point out to me, so wasn't sure what to expect. Lots of fluid, the doctor said. That's good.
Looking for the heart. Looking for a strong heartbeat.
Nothing.
Oh no.
I closed my eyes tight and starting whispering a prayer. Please. Please. Please. That's all I could say. I couldn't look at Chris.
The doctor left the room saying something about calling one of his high-risk pregnancy colleagues. My doctor knows me, he knew I wanted closure.
Chris grabbed me and we sobbed together. I wanted this to be a bad dream. One that I could wake up and it'd be over. I didn't want this to be happening. I just wanted to know the flavor of my baby, pick up my son from school, go to the grocery store, and eat a In N Out hamburger while telling my kids all about the new brother or sister they would have this summer. That was my plan.
I didn't want to go to San Diego to see some doctor I had never met who could tell me my options. I didn't want to call my mother to tell her what was happening. I just didn't want any of this!
Dr B gave me a hug and sent us away with a bunch of papers saying they were expecting us.
I couldn't even speak. My voice was gone.

On the drive down to SD, we were a huge mess of emotions. Both of us. Both of us in shock with what was happening, and not knowing what to expect next. It was awful.
I met with the doctor who gave me 3 options. 2 of them were completely out of the question. Induce labor, get the baby out, perform an autopsy (with our consent).
So I was set up at the hospital. The first few nurses I met were all very polite and very sympathetic. I didn't say much to them.
I was hooked up to an IV, and a suppository inserted to induce labor.
At this point I was afraid. I had been induced with both of my kids. Dillan was 12-13 hours + 2 hours of pushing. Leah was 18-19 hours and maybe 1 push.
The thought of lying in that bed all day and all night just allowing all my emotions to stew and fester. No way.
One question kept entering my thoughts.
Over and over again: How am I supposed to get through this?

I was in and out of sleep.
Reviewing all the questions asked to me over and over again by doctors and nurses. I began second guessing any answers I gave.
When was the last time you felt the baby move? Have you been sick? Have you been bleeding? Did you know something was wrong?
My mind was fuzzy and restless at the same time.
Chris gave me a blessing, trying to comfort me as he knew how. I knew I wasn't alone, and I so desperately wanted to feel peace.

At one point, around 2 am, not sure if I had been asleep or not, I felt a lot of pain. I was given some pain meds in my IV. That took care of it. I was then asked again if I wanted an epidural. I had one each with my other kids. I told her probably, but then she checked me and said I was about a 6 and ready. She said I could still have the epi, but it would all be over in about a half an hour, so it may not be necessary.
The doctor came in and told me to push. I did. At this point I think my senses were dulled, or I just shut everything off.
The room was dark, except for one dim light behind the doctor. Everyone was silent, except for my sobs. There were two new nurses in the room, with a draped cart and one holding a blanket.
The doctor said the feet were first. I pushed a few more times, but nothing else happened. She said my cervix needed to relax and then the head would come out.
The lights were turned off, everyone left the room, and I lay there a while longer. I have no idea how long. Lost in my thoughts.
I felt a strong contraction, and a pop. It was over.
Everyone returned to the room. I covered my eyes. It was like a scary movie.
Chris was so calm.
The doctor asked if I wanted to see the baby. I shook my head. It was too much. I thought I may have a chance to change my mind later. Chris really wanted to see the baby, I knew it was important to him.

The doctor wasn't done with me. The placenta would not come. I was given pitocin, but it didn't work. The doctor, more than once, stuck her fist where it did not belong to try and get it. That was the last time I saw that doctor, even though she was around. I didn't care if I never EVER saw her again.
I was told I was going to the OR to have a DNC. This would be a first.
I was given a cup of something really really nasty that was supposed to neutralize my stomach so I wouldn't vomit.
I was wheeled away, completely exhausted. The OR was freezing. I was moved onto the table, then told I would be given a spinal, not an epidural, for the procedure. The told me to sit up and arch my back. The next thing I remember was feeling warm and dizzy. Then I managed to open my eyes just enough to see a kidney shaped dish under my chin with two nurses keeping me stable on the edge of the bed.

I woke up with 5 or 6 blankets on top of me in the recovery room. I heard Chris' voice, and tried to look at him, but my eyes would not allow it. He said he had a few minutes alone with the baby. It was a boy.
He then told me he looked perfect. He was perfect.
The doctor told him they would not be performing an autopsy, the baby looked too good. There was no reason. He then told me that pictures were taken for us to keep, along with prints.
A memory packet.

We spoke with a counselor, then with another doctor, before we were allowed to leave the hospital. I knew I would be full of questions, and all I wanted were answers.
Chris held the pillowcase-like packet in his hand, along with all sorts of paperwork.
I was given a Comfort Cub to take home. It's a weighted teddy bear with a note from another mom who suffered the loss of a child. Chris couldn't believe I agreed to take it home. I can't stand stuffed animals. I told him I would keep it and then give it to someone else one day.