To Whom it May Concern: c/o The Early Pregnancy Assesment Center: BC Women's Hospital,To you, I may just be another number; one of the many percentages and 1 in whatevers that you threw at me through my tears. I may be "one of the lucky ones who can actually get pregnant" but the fact of the matter is, I am holding a dead baby hostage in my body... that may be a fact for you, a simple statistic, but for me, it's just not that simple.
To start off, Katherine when you called me re: my referral you were an angel. Your soft voice with your pretty accent. Thank you for letting me cry. Thank you for letting me not understand. Thank you for repeating yourself 100 times because I did not have the ability to retain the smallest amount of information. Thank you for giving me options- I am upset that not all of the information was explained in my options, but I will get to that further into this letter.When I arrived at the clinic I was told to empty my bladder because I would be having an ultrasound. Why? I don't want to see it again. There is nothing to see. Nothing. I asked the receptionist to refer to my chart and she shrugged and asked me to empty my bladder. A nurse called me in to a small room filled with ultrasound pictures of healthy babies and newborn shots of teeny red little beans.. and fired questions at me.. briefly explaining that she was sorry for my loss. I asked about the u/s and she said I didn't need one. There was nothing to confirm. Literally... so that 20 minutes I panicked while I waited to be called in was for nothing.. it may be routine to you, but I am not a number, I am a human. PLease understand that I need you to know what you're talking about when I arrive. I need you to know that I've lost my baby. I can't tell you that... in a room full of people. Please read my chart.
Once in the room and my medical history was taken- the procedure was briefly explained to me. The option I had chosen was that with a "concious sedation" so I would likely not remember the event and would not feel any pain. It was to be done in the "clinic" upstairs. I thought that "clinic" was for early pregnancy loss.. I didn't know. No one told me. My other options were general anesthetic or advil and tylenol with a medicine to loosen my cervix. I would be awake and remember everything. NO thank you.I met with a dr. then who briefly assessed me once again. Explaining again the procedure, the risks and the benefits. I was told there was no need to wait to start trying due to places like your establishment existing where I could go and have an early u/s done for dating, if I didn't get a period. That's wonderful news thank you.
Your nurse then returned to the room to give me some pamphlets from 1994. Helpful. Really. Your nurse then proceeded to tell me I would need to wait one two full cycles before "trying" again. I explained to her that the dr. had just told me there was no need to wait. The nurse then informed me I would have a chance of miscarrying again due to complications... I explained to her that when I asked the dr. not 10 minutes ago the dr told me there are no known complications... the nurse told me there are. Wait: I'm confused.. oh.. silly me, nevermind, it's only my life.
The next day I arrived. Dropped off at the gates by my husband as babies and children are not allowed in the "clinic" Once I walked through the doors after being buzzed in, I realized.. this clinic is for termination, not loss. I was asked who would be picking me up, I explained my husband and daughter would be, the receptionist peeked at me, 'oh you have a daughter". Yes. I do. Almost two.
I was then told to change into a skirt and then talk to one of the nurses... okay she told me I could hop in this bed- but only if I could tell her the song playing on the radio... is this a joke?? Is this funny to you, something to laugh and smile about, oh wait, you haven't read my chart. In a room with 6 other beds separated only by curtains I waited. LIstening to other women and girls talk.. with and without translators. Nervous and not. I sat there in my bed, in my weird skirt in the middle of the room listening... to everybody's personal story. I am not here because I want to be. I am not here because this is the choice I've made (okay, technically it is, but is not my first choice). My teary eyes and shaking shoulders are spotted by a woman... who comes over to tell me I'm in a safe place. A safe place where everyone can hear my secrets? I start to sob and I rest my head in my knees, she wraps her arms around me, thank you, it feels good to have some kind of comfort. Then she tells me that my heart wants one thing, but my head knows what's best for me... that I have made this choice to make sure I have a better life, to not bring a baby into the world when I wasn't ready. My sobbing stopped.. and I sternly explained wth a snotty face, that I had in fact lost my baby, that I was not here because this is how I imagined the delivery of my second child. Oh wait, you haven't read my chart. I'm then told that when it doesn't happen naturally this is better than waiting for infection to take over my uterus. Soothing. I am then told that 55% of pregnancies end this way. Really? 55%? That is a new number.
I think my yelling and sobbing has made the song nurse realize that I don't need to be lighthearted... that it's in fact, not going to happen. I am devastated. My medical history is taken again, I'm given some advil and antibiotics to minimize infection. I have seen three women come and go into and out of the room. I have listened to them talk, and now their silence. No wait, it's not silent.. there is music on and nurses are singing. Due to staffing issues I waited about 90 minutes until it was my turn. The nurse who gave me my iv had read my file. She softly empathized with me and asked me about my other children.. my one. My Abby. She asked about Abby's health for some reason.. I explained a little about her arthritis.. my what a tough year I am having. For a brief moment I'm not a number. I'm a human with feelings and someone is listening. There are no statistics being hurled at me. Dated or outdated. Once in the room the dr. explains that 1 in 10 pregnancies end this way- but.. wait..I thought it was 55%? or if you ask the dr. from yesterday I think it was 40%... the radiologist says 30%. I nod. I lay back and am given some pain meds and something to sedate me. But I don't fall asleep.. I can feel it working, I can hear him start and feel my uterus empty, and I cry... and cry and cry.. the paper sheet is wet with my tears.. and my nurse tries to talk to me and distract me.. realizing it's not going to work.. she tells me to cry.. and let it out... and to not stop crying until I'm done. I am a human.I am not allowed to walk back to the big room like the other girls. I have to be wheeled due to my high blood pressure. My nurse dissapears, she is busy. I am left with the song nurse who wants to check my bleeding. I let her and then I rest. Alone. Sad. Empty.
She asks if I'm ready to go.. but says there is no rush. I am ready. I think. She hands me an envelope to take to my dr. when I see her in 2 weeks. I go to the bathroom one more time and I walk out. Alone. No one says good bye. No one notices I left. I walked in alone, I walked out alone.. what if I decided to drive my car home? No one would know... I left: a number. A statistic. A 1 in whatever.
Jay and Abby were waiting for me. Jay not even able to look into my weary eyes and Abby not sure if I'm even her Mommy I look so sad. They take me home and I rest. I am a human. I don't care how many women walk through the doors of your clinic. Don't rush me. Or ignore me.. or stare at the ceiling when I cry. Don't tell me I'm one of the lucky ones who can actually get pregnant. Read my file. I am NOT a statistic. I am a woman who has a daughter with arthritis, a stepdad who was killed by a drunk driver in the middle of the day, the wife to a man who nearly killed himself falling off a roof, I am the mother of a dead baby. I am a human.I understand early pregnancy assessment does not just deal with loss. I understand there are bigger things out there to deal with than my empty sac- but try to live in MY moment. Put on my shoes for 10 seconds and talk to me and treat me the way I deserve to be treated. I am devastated and terrified and though this may not be the end of your world- it feels like the end of mine, in my moment. In my life.
I would suggest that when you explain the options of medication for the procedure you explain clearly where it will take place. If I would have known that I would be waiting 90 minutes in a room full of women, I would have chosen no pain medication to have my own space to grieve. This procedure may be a technical stage of steps to you, to me it is a process. My body is strong I know that, my emotional well being is fragile and needs space. Privacy. I would like to suggest that your "clinic" have a day, or half day once a week, or month or whenever- depending on which statistic you count losses by, specifically for women who are dealing with loss. A termination is different than a loss. The procedure may be the same, but the process is different. A day where the mood isn't that of a Sunday brunch... I am not saying the nurses should be dressed in black and we play the funeral march in the background.. but take the women who are dealing with this tragedy at face value. Understand their sadness and frailness. Empathize with their need for answers- and decide within the clinic which statistic and timeline for "trying" again that you will offer. I understand that sometimes "these things just happen" and it's all "for a reason" but picture yourself in the shoes or the weird procedure skirt of the women before you.. slotting themselves into statistics as you offer them... we are confused enough. Pick a number.
I am not a statistic. I'm just not that simple... and I truly resent being treated that way. Dealing with this process- your procedure- has been like dealing with a failed birth plan, only I don't get to hold my baby in my arms to comfort me and tell me it all worked out in the end- It's just not that simple.
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