the equinox

Ah, the first day of autumn!  My favorite season.  Beautiful colors, perfect temperatures, fewer tourists.  I'm so glad it's here!

I wonder if anything interesting is going to happen today - the first day of a new season usually brings some sort of moment.  Unfortunately some of those moments aren't that great.  I think the worst of them all happened in 2004.  What a whirlwind of a couple of days I had - with the first day of fall being the finale.


Okay...I guess I should warn you...some of this is probably waaaayyyyy TMI for some of you, so consider yourself warned.

Our son was 4 years old, we had just moved into a new apartment, and we were just about settled.  We were open to the idea of having another kid, but weren't actively trying.  It was one of those "if it happens, it happens" scenarios.  Nothing was happening, the monthly friend came on time...or so I thought.

Good ol' Aunt Flo came to visit the month after we moved, but she didn't stay as long as she normally does.  Then after that I was spotting a little bit and cramping for no reason.  I didn't really think anything of it.  I thought because of the stresses of moving and the extra physical labor I went through with the move, my body was just reacting to it.  No biggie.

Then it was time for my annual.  I went for my exam, the nurse asked if anything was out of the ordinary, blah, blah...same questions every time.  I told her about the spotting and she perked up in her seat, but said simply that she'd tell the doc about it, gave me the lovely paper gown and "sheet" to change into, and left the room to get the doc and give me my privacy.

The doctor came in, and the first words out of her mouth were, "Tell me more about this spotting that you've been having."  Honestly I didn't think it was a big deal.  I'd heard over and over that women's bodies do strange things under stress, etc.  So, I told her, she did the annual exam, and told me she wanted to draw blood to cover all bases.  Yeah, okay.  I'll play along.  Better to be safe than sorry, right?

The next day at work, I got a call from the nurse telling me that my pregnancy test had come back positive and they're concerned that I might be miscarrying, so they want me to get in for an ultrasound ASAP.


What?


First off - pregnant?  No...I had gotten my period.  How could it possibly be that?  I wasn't pregnant.  I had questions.  A lot of questions.  The nurse told me that they'd set up an ultrasound appointment for later that afternoon and the doctor would call me as soon as they had a time set up.  I asked her again if they were sure - no matter what else was happening - that I was pregnant.  "Yes, your results came back positive."

I hung up my phone - at work - and sat there.  I stared at that phone in disbelief for what seemed like an eternity.  Pregnant?  Miscarrying?  I was shaking where I sat.  What do I do now?  Do I call my husband and tell him about the possibility before I talk to the doctor?  Do I wait until I know more and tell him when I get home?  How long has it been - will the doctor call me back soon?


Thankfully the doctor called me back only a few minutes later.  They had an appointment set up for me and she wanted to answer my questions.  How could I have gotten my period and still be pregnant?  It wasn't actually my period - it might have been implantation bleeding.  (Huh?  That's when there's bleeding when the fertilized egg attaches itself to the uterine lining.  You're welcome.)  I'd never heard of that.  Okay, so spotting like this with the little bit of cramping - is that definitely a bad sign?  Well, we want to take a look and see what's going on.  I could tell that none of this sounded good.  People are very good at not answering questions so they don't get into trouble down the line.  I had my instructions for my ultrasound and we hung up.  

And then it all really hit me.  And I started crying.  At work.  I had to go home.

I got home and somehow told my husband everything that was going on.  I honestly don't remember how it all went - my mind was all over the place at that time and I can't remember much about those few hours.  He was excited at the prospect of having another baby, but all I could think about was, "I'm not really ready for this.  How could I be pregnant already?  How could I be miscarrying? What am I supposed to do?  WHAT THE HELL IS HAPPENING?"

I drank a million gallons of water and went in for my ultrasound.  It was an internal ultrasound - a special joy.   The tech asked me a few questions like, "How long have you had cramping?" but wasn't allowed to tell me anything that she was seeing.  I could tell it wasn't good.  I don't know why, but I could just tell.  And then I went back home.

I went back to work the next day, still not knowing what was going on, my brain going a mile a minute, jumping anytime the phone rang.  Finally it was the call I was waiting for.  I took the call in an empty private office and listened to the doctor tell me that I had what was called a blighted ovum (now called an early pregnancy failure - isn't that lovely?) which means, in short, that an egg was fertilized, implanted itself, began growing and forming, then stopped before it hit the embryonic stage, but the body doesn't know the difference.

What.  the.  fuck.

Sorry, but that's what went through my head.  That and the fact that not even 24 hours before, I thought everything was hunky-dory and then all of the sudden I'm pregnant and miscarrying???

She recommended doing a D&C (which is basically the same procedure done during a first-trimester abortion) and scheduled me for that procedure.  It was scheduled for Sept. 22nd - two days later.

Then I got to call my hubby and tell him the news.  He was pretty shaken up, but was supportive.  I wasn't really hurting yet because I was still in disbelief of the whole pregnancy thing in the first place.  At least I knew what was happening now, whether I could believe it or not, and went back to work.

The next day - and it was probably all in my head - I started feeling nauseous as soon as I got to work.  Great - morning sickness.  Maybe it's a good thing this isn't happening.  I checked with my HR rep, telling her matter-of-factly what was going on, and went on about my day...pretending that nothing was bothering me.

The next morning, we got up early, dropped our son off at my parents' (wow - I don't even remember telling them, but I must have), and went to the outpatient surgery clinic.  It was all still very surreal to me, but for my husband it was very difficult.  To him it felt like he was taking me in to terminate a pregnancy - even though it had already terminated itself.  They took me back and got me prepped.  One of the only things I remember was that I started out with a very pregnant nurse, but they quickly changed that.  Oops.  Not that it really bothered me, but I could see how it could have been really bad for others.  Then they wheeled me back, had me lie down and count backwards from ten...and....I.....

...woke up in the recovery room, cold and shaky.  I hate anesthesia.  I hate coming out of it.  Oh well.  It was over.  The strangest, most surreal week of my life was done.

It was the first day of autumn.  A day that starts the season of death in the cycle of nature.  For some reason that's stuck with me since then.  Fall is still my favorite season, but on the equinox I always pause for a moment and remember those few days of chaos and uncertainty.  I don't know why, but I do.  Maybe it affected me more than I thought it did, maybe I'm just thankful for...I don't know.

Then it passes...and I feel the slight chill in the air and look outside at the leaves that are just beginning to change, and I smile.  And I go on.