Disaster.

[rivka]

There's not going to be a baby.

There was never a baby.

I woke up this morning and found that I was bleeding. Just a tablespoon or so of old, brownish, sludgy blood. Called the midwife, who was sort of guarded about the possibilities, and then went to the hospital late this morning for an ultrasound.

At that point, I was still kind of keeping hope alive, a little bit, because there hadn't been any more blood.

The ultrasound tech told us absolutely nothing. Just that she would have to show her pictures to the radiologist, who would call my doctor. That made me pretty sure that the news would be bad.

After the ultrasound she left the room for a very long time. When she returned, she told us to go directly to my midwife's office.

They put us right into a private office instead of making us wait in the waiting room with the radiantly pregnant woman already there. We waited a while. Then Kathy came in and told us how sorry she was.

There was never a baby. There was nothing on the ultrasound that even looked like a baby. Just some... masses... and some cysts. It may have been a blighted ovum that's now starting to disintegrate, but it also may have been trophoblastic disease, which is, um, an abnormal growth of cells that triggers pregnancy hormones but is... just a mess. Just a growth of nothing. Most trophoblastic disease isn't malignant, but some forms are. There's a risk that cells from the... growth... will travel through the bloodstream, implant somewhere else, and start to grow.

I'm going to need to have a surgical abortion. It's apparently way too risky to wait for a natural miscarriage, and even too risky to take mifeprestone for a chemical abortion. It will probably be either tomorrow or Monday. Then I'll need to be followed by, I think she said, a perinatologist for several months to make sure that my hormone levels go completely back to normal and there are no signs of additional growth.

There was never a baby. There never was. I can't even begin to describe how horrifying that is. It feels like it's worse than having the baby die, because it's just so... awful.

To be honest, I think I'm still kind of in shock. I cried and cried at the midwife's office, but I don't feel like it's really sunk in.

I came back to work because I didn't want to just sit home and stare at the wall crying. I actually feel like I'm going to be able to get some things done - I have a lot of mindless-but-concentration-requiring busywork on my plate - but mostly, I don't know, I just don't want to be with myself right now.

I don't think this is something I can cope with. So I'm holding off on that as long as possible.

Comments left enabled even though I can't imagine what anyone could possibly say. Anyone suggesting any possible variation on "it's for the best" or "you'll have other children" will be terminated with extreme prejudice.

Comments

[sciamanna.livejournal.com]

I am very sorry to hear this. I don't have anything wise or helpful to say, but I did want to say this.

[journeywoman.livejournal.com]

Your post made me cry. I am so terribly sorry about your loss--of the baby that never was, of the joy and excitement... oh, Rebecca. As inadequate as it is, I hope it helps to know that so many people are grieving with you.

[phantom_wolfboy]

Rivka, I'm so sorry.

[roadnotes.livejournal.com]

My heart is with you.

[ruisseau.livejournal.com]

Our thoughts are with you. *hugs*

[kaitiana.livejournal.com]

I know nothing anyone can say will make you feel better, just know that a lot of people are thinking about you and sending positive thoughts your way...

[hawkida.livejournal.com]

Like you said - not much I can say is going to help.

But I want to say thank you to you for writing about this during such a horrible time. I love the way you write and I like reading about you and your family. I feel for you despite having never met you (yet?). This is something I cannot help with but it means something that you share it. For that I say thank you, and I hope you find peace after this dreadful news soon.

Best to you, Michael and Alex.

[erbie.livejournal.com]

I'm so sorry. You're in my thoughts and prayers.

[baldanders.livejournal.com]

I am so, so sorry. That is more upsetting than I can imagine.

[tsjafo.livejournal.com]

Prayers and good thoughts on the way.

[brooksmoses]

*hugs*

That is uniformly, completely, and utterly horrible.

...

There is this concept, in Egyptian cosmology as lilairen has explained it to me, that there is a far worse fate than being killed, and that is to be uncreated -- to be unwritten from creation, such that one never existed.

The cosmology goes on to have gods who create things, and gods who destroy things, and this is all part of the right balance of the world, and though it is sometimes painful and hurts a lot, it is part of how the universe goes.

Uncreation, though, is not a province of the gods. It is a province of the hideous grasping evil of the void; that which every one of the gods is responsible for protecting the universe against.

I think the Egyptians had it right: This kind of uncreation, the kind that took away your baby, this has no place in a right universe. Even in a universe which encompasses birth and death and creation and destruction, this does not belong.

[puppytown.livejournal.com]

I'm sorry.

[hobbitbabe.livejournal.com]

I am so awfully sorry. I will be thinking about all of you.

[redbird]

Oh, dear. I'm so sorry.

[patgreene.livejournal.com]

Oh my God. I am so so sorry. *hugs* I don't know what else to say, other than you and curiousangel and Alex are in my prayers.

[pagawne.livejournal.com]

You are in my prayers. I can't think of anything else to say.

[tammylc.livejournal.com]

I am so very, very sorry. You are all very much in my thoughts right now.

[lerryn.livejournal.com]

I'll just say that I'm sorry this is happening. Take care of yourself, and let others take care of you. I'll be thinking of you, and putting wishes for best outcome in the next despacho ceremony I attend if that is all right with you.

[iamjw.livejournal.com]

*Offers gentle hugs to you and Michael*

[kalmn.livejournal.com]

oh, fuck.

i am so so so sorry.

*hug*

[guruwench.livejournal.com]

I'm so very sorry to hear this, Rivka. Nothing I can say will help, and I know I have no clue what you're going through, but I wanted you to know that you all are in my thoughts.

*gentle hugs offered to you and Michael*

[jerusha.livejournal.com]

I am so sorry. What upsetting news to have gotten.

If a suggestion might not be to forward, now might be a time to re-read a favorite, comforting book. Something that will help you be a long way away from yourself and this whole sad, terrifying situation until some of the rawness wears away and you can stand to be with yourself again.

[redbird23.livejournal.com]

So very, very, very sorry to hear this. There are no good words of comfort to be offered to such news, but I will have you and your family in my thoughts.

[cattitude.livejournal.com]

I'm so sorry.

[tendyl.livejournal.com]

All I can do is offer hugs and to light a candle for you.