My new RE is something of an intimidating woman. She's just not warm and fuzzy. Her reviews on Healthgrades have many a complaint about her telling patients to lose weight. I was actually nervous about this factoid, seeing as I was a bloated pregnant lady.
And when I brought Husband in with me that Monday to see her, she did in fact tell me to lay off the refined sugars should I attempt ttc again - and told my poor husband he could follow the same advice for good measure. At least she was equitable about it.
We finally got to talk, and I got the distinct impression my case fascinated her, I could see the wheels spinning in her head as I described my history. Partial Molar Pregnancy. Asherman's. Repeat Pregnancy Loss. But for the first time in a while, a doctor managed to make me feel a little less shitty about my circumstances.
"You didn't need chemo after the molar? Good."
"Your scar tissue was all localized in your cervix? Removed in one procedure? Great."
"You were getting regular cycles? You had a healthy pregnancy? You're clearly fertile."
When we got to the part about how I was going to remove my dead baby, she threw me for a loop:
"I don't like to prescribe cytotec to women like you. If you'd popped out a bunch of kids, maybe. But it's traumatizing. And frankly, I want to test the fetus to see whether there were chromosomal issues. I suspect this is a chromosomal problem, which is normal at your age. Ideally, this is a situation where you dropped a bad egg. We should really do a D&C."
But Doctor, what about scarring? "I won't use force," she says. "It will be a gentle suction D&C. There's some curettage, but it shouldn't cause harm."
I look at Husband. I think about my worst case scenario, another flight to Boston. I imagine no longer enduring labor pains in my tiny bathroom while Husband tries to hide Niblet away. Take a breath. OK, a D&C it will be.
She performs an exam, we chit chat in that awkward way you do when someone will be inserting objects up your vagina, I focus on her teal green toes. They match her mani. She's really put together. I, on the other hand, in my current mental state, look like someone who wandered in off the set of a disaster movie. We talk progesterone. "You're taking the pills orally?!?! Oh, I never prescribe them that way. They act like a sedative. Next time you will take them as suppositories." I like both the confirmation that my fog and exhaustion was over the top, and of course, I like the words, "next time."
She performs another ultrasound ("hard to get a really good picture with that tilted uterus") confirms that my baby has no discernible movement or heartbeat and we schedule my D&C for the following morning.