A Beautiful Noise

January 14, 2000 | Category: Family, It's a Trip

It was a good news/bad news situation.

What to do when holding a positive pregnancy test, in the knowledge that you'd gone through half a box of Stay-Free Lights the week before in what you'd thought was your period?

Well, what we did was get scared. Immediately. While still standing in the bathroom, before CD had even finished getting the shampoo from his hair.

In a surreal haze - when you KNOW it's all surreal but still manage to put one foot in front of the other - we got ourselves out of the house and off to work.

I called my friend M. on the cell phone during the morning commute. I told her what was going on and she urged me to call my doctor. So I did, but the the nurse on duty told me that my usual doctor was in the process of retiring (NOW?!?) and wasn't around. She would have to hunt down another doctor for me.

I got to work about an hour later (argh I was working in the far west suburbs!) and immediately as I sat down, the nurse called and told me she had found someone who could see me.

I stood back up and walked out the door.

An hour and a half later, CD and I met with Dr. S.; CD held my hand as Dr. S did an internal exam as well as ordering several others. (This was CD's first introduction to a speculum. Dr: "CD - this is the big shiny medeival device I am about to insert into your wife" CD: "Gah?")

We pretended everything was fine. Yes - we made small talk. Don't underestimate our ability to make small talk under the most extreme of conditions. If there was a contest for this, we'd be the undisputed champions.

Then Dr. S. sat us down and explained to us that although I was pregnant, I was also bleeding, my cervix wasn't fully closed, and combined with the cramping - he believed...

He believed my body was not supporting the pregnancy.

He gave us a handout entitled "Miscarriage". He said he would pray for us. He scheduled us for a follow-up sonogram. Said we would discuss "options" afterwards. He actually said "aprox. 1 out of 10 pregnancies end up in 'silent miscarriages'."

I knew the drill, but this was CD's first experience with the "it doesn't always go well" world. WE held hands tightly, as Dr. S. scheduled an Ultrasound for us for later in the week.

We went home with our "So, you've had a miscarriage" handout; angry, quiet, at turns telling each other it was fine. CD gently tucked me into the couch with my legs up. We didn't have a conversation. We just waited.

After two brutal days and nights of spotting and cramping and crying, we reported to the local hospital for the Ultrasound. The technician made CD wait outside while he searched for the fetus. (Something no one will ever, ever, ever do to us again. We are immeasurably stronger together than we are apart.)

The technician found it (A jellybean, really), and the nurse went to get CD in. We watched for agonizing moments as the technician tried to find heart movement or heart sounds.

And then. The miracle. We just hung on and listened to the beautiful noise and cried. We were still, amazingly, beautifully pregnant!

And for the first time, we were happy. Just for then. As we floated down the stairs and out the door and down the sidewalk. As we plucked the parking ticket off the windshield of the car.

Happy. Pregnant. Happy.

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