I had made some comments that I want this blog to be more than just about my FMD illness, I want it to also include some background of my life so that you all may get a better understanding of the me that lies inside. I am gong to start with most recent, then back log my way into what makes me, me in a series of blog posts combined with FMD posts.
I shall start in 2009, which for me went down as just one of many of the my worst years in history. It started February 19th that year. I was 17 1/2 weeks pregnant, it was a huge surprise when I had found out, but it was certainly a happy surprise, I went to a routine baby check up. The doctor was having a hard time detecting the babies heart beat, which was unusual because all of the other appointments, it was rather strong. Because I was thirty five (an elder pregnancy) and had two prior high risk pregnancies, I had to go every two weeks for check ups from the start. I was sent over to the hospital to have an ultrasound to see if we could find that babies heartbeat. My husband at the time and I went over, we were in the room and the tech put the paddle on my already rapidly growing belly, and said "excuse me, I will be right back", I looked at my husband and started to cry, I knew something was terribly wrong. A few minutes went by, the tech returned to the room with the radiologist, which is never a good sign, and explained that a heartbeat could not be detected and there were no signs of life with the fetus. We were told at that moment, our baby had died. We were devastated to say the least. We were referred to go to one of the big hospitals in Pittsburgh as I was too far along for the local hospital to help me. The local office had kindly made me an appointment in Pittsburgh for the next morning. We went to see this doctor. Something was off about it to me from the second I walked in the door though. The staff was very cold shouldered and matter of fact and the room itself had this white, sterill, off vibe to me. The doctor entered the exam room and was very cold and unkind. I just had a feeling rush over me that something was not right about this. After the doctor very cold heartedly explained the procedure he would do, it occurred to me that this doctor wasn't an Obstetrician at all, rather he was an abortion doctor. I realized it, I asked him and he confirmed he was. I literally started screaming and crying and telling him he would not be touching me or my now deceased fetus. I kicked him out of the room, got dressed and we ran out of there as fast as we could. What did it matter at that point you may ask, I guess it really didn't, but it did matter to me.
We proceeded out of the "baby killers" office and immediately got on my phone and started making calls to see if I could get a "real" Obstetrician to do what needed to be done. Low and behold within an hour, I found one, but he was on vacation until Monday, so I chose to wait. We went back home, me still visibly pregnant and completely unconsolible. By this time, my parents had made the drive from North Carolina and had safely made it to my sisters house, so we went there. I just cried and cried over the loss of the baby and I was still so upset that the doctor almost touched me. I was completely shattered. We spent the weekend pretty much in hiding. We stayed home and I didn't leave the house again until Monday morning when we went to meet with the new doctor. My mom went with us. First thing the doctor did was have us escorted back into his office to talk. His nurse seated us, the doctor walked in and I felt a calm come over me. The first thing I noticed, he was wearing a gold chain with a star of David pendant on it. I knew right then I was going to be treated by a holy man, a man of honor, of dignity and respect. That it was. He handled the situation with complete grace and complete understanding. He explained that my baby would be treated with respect the entire time and he would even baptize the baby for me. As hard as the situation was, he never once gave me any reason to feel uncomfortable.
After the procedure was said and done I was told I would hear something within six weeks as to the gender of the baby and a potential cause of death. After several, long weeks the call finally came, it was a girl and she died because a blood clot, most likely due to my factor five, got into the umbilical cord and cut off everything to her.
Her name would have been Emma Marie and yes, she was baptized, I have a paper to prove it. My angle in heaven.
No comments:
Post a Comment