The beginning of the end...

I had originally planned to write my story fully without leaving anything out.

I became unsure about doing so.

I then realized without doing so my baby boy's "birth" would not be documented.

Monday, February 28th

Today was the day the process would begin. I was in a constant state of anxiety from the time I woke until the time of our appointment at 11 am. I was anxious. I was sad. There were no other feelings coming through that I can pinpoint. The anxiety overwhelmed the sadness.

G and I were early to the appointment. We had decided to grab a small bite to eat at the small pseudo french cafe in the building my doctor's office was located. I had a water and a croissant. I could still not fathom drinking a cup of coffee or anything that could possibly disturb my baby boy. I was instructed to take 3 Motrin 30 minutes beforehand. I took them at 10:30 am. They choked me with tears. This was the first medication I had ingested since I found out I was pregnant.

We anxiously watched the clock. I cannot say I was scared of the pain that I would endure. I was without a doubt prepared to handle a few days of pain to save any pain that my baby boy would endure if he made it to earth.

The doctor's office was comforting in an eeary way. I was "lucky" enough to be referred to a perinatal who also terminates late-term pregnancies due to medical reasons. She wasnt the most comforting doctor but she had years of experience and I trusted her.

We first met with the nurse who explained the procedure in detail. I couldn't stop crying. Crying for my loss. Crying because it was all just so unfair. Crying for my unborn baby boy who truly never had a chance. G comforted me but my tears led to his eyes welling up. The nurse then explained the laminaria insertion. They would insert 12 laminaria to dialate my cervix. The word dialate pained me.

The doctor came in shortly after and explained the terminal diagnosis. I undressed and entered the stirrups. The laminaria insertion was without a doubt painful. There is nothing I could possibly compare it to. What got me through it? G standing at my head and holding my hand tightly and knowing that I was truly doing this to "save" my baby boy from pain. My doctor was quick. Like I had said previously she may not have the best bedside manner but she is an esteemed doctor with years and years of expertise. The emotional and physical pain led me to shake. The loss of blood let to me almost fainting trying to get up from the examining table. I quickly laid back down as G caressed my head.

I was given a prescription for pain and a prescription for antibiotics. I was also given Misoprostol to be inserted vaginaly 2 hours before surgery.

As I left the office I felt brave. I was indeed very very sad but for the first time since we were given the diagnosis I had felt strong not weak.

I spent the majority of the day in bed. I was both physically and emotionaly exhausted. I cried a lot. The pain of knowing my cervix was dialating for my baby boy's "birth" killed me inside. The pain of knowing tomorrow he would be "born" at 19 weeks and 6 days. The relief of knowing he would be at peace and I would hopefuly find closure. The anxiety of the unknown.