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I vowed that would be me.Chapter EighteenThe change of scenery did nothing to help me physically feel better. In fact, I felt worse. Not only did my back hurt, but I felt a lot of pressure in my abdomen. Using my desk for support, I pulled myself out of my chair and slowly walked to the employee restroom down the hall. I was glad no one was there yet to witness me as I steadied myself against the wall as I walked.
When I entered the small no-frills bathroom with two beige stalls, I doubled over, cramping. A horrible thought entered my mind. Maybe I wasn’t sick. No. No. No. I was past the danger period. I was tired, and I must have pulled a muscle in my back is all. I tried to think of any reason for it not to be my worst nightmare. When I made it into the stall and locked the door, I had to take a second to breathe through another cramp.
I sat on the toilet, hoping to relieve some of the pressure in my abdomen, and grabbed my phone with shaky hands to google my symptoms, praying it would be anything other than a miscarriage. Before I could, I dropped my phone when I noticed some spots of pinkish blood in my panties. No. Please no. I cried.
Picking up my phone, which sported a newly cracked screen, I dialed my doctor’s after-hours number. Frustratingly, the nurse manning the line couldn’t or wouldn’t tell me anything. The only thing she could offer was to tell me to come in when they opened at eight, in a half hour.
I left as soon as I could grab my bag and drove to the doctor’s office to wait outside until they opened. While I sat in my car, I read a hundred posts from different women about their pregnancy experiences. Most were not the news I wanted, though a few gave me reason to hope. Sometimes cramping and spotting occurred during pregnancy, I read, especially in the first trimester. I was past that. Still, maybe it was okay. God, please let my baby be okay. Please don’t punish me like this.
The minutes felt like hours as I waited. At 7:59, I stood at the doctor’s office door waiting for it to be unlocked. I didn’t care who saw me. I was done slinking in the back door. All that mattered was my baby.
As soon as one of the office staff unlocked the door, I rushed in. I was sure I looked like a madwoman, but the sweet woman didn’t startle at my abrupt entrance. Instead, she gave me a kind smile. “Mrs. Holland, come with me.”
Right now, I would happily take the preferential treatment my temporary last name offered.
As soon as I was taken back, I was ushered to an exam room. I guessed Dr. Paulson thought I was still wanting to keep this quiet. I sat on the exam table, my legs bouncing like a ball. A nurse came in after a few minutes to take my vitals and ask me what symptoms I was experiencing. I could barely choke out my response. And I could tell by the grave look in her eye that this wasn’t normal. She handed me a tissue and a gown. I tried to wipe the tears away with the tissue, but it was useless—they kept coming. As I undressed, I stared down at my stomach, begging and pleading with God to make it okay. To save my baby. There were more tinges of blood in my panties. This time redder. Hope continued to fade. By the time Dr. Paulson walked in with her nurse and an ultrasound machine, I was a teary mess.
Dr. Paulson approached me, her violet eyes trying to calm me, but the only thing that could do that was to see my baby alive. To hear a heartbeat.
She took my hand and squeezed it. “Let’s take a peek and see what’s going on.”
I nodded.
Dr. Paulson helped me lie down and get my feet in the stirrups, somewhat soothing me with her gentle bedside manner.
I noticed that this time they kept the monitor away from me. I closed my eyes, waiting for the news that would either fill me with sweet relief or bring me crushing agony.
I felt the transducer as the doctor moved it around more than she had the last time. I knew then she didn’t see what she was looking for. My baby was gone. Tears streamed down my face and landed on the paper covering the exam table. It was so quiet, I could hear them fall.
“Dani, I’m sorry to tell you,” Dr. Paulson paused, “there’s no heartbeat.”
I covered my face with my hands and took a deep, shaky breath. “Why? How?” I begged to know.
