When I started injecting the progesterone into my vagina, the spotting stopped after a few days and I felt good about it. The big wake-up call came about 10 days later.
My doctor had given me progesterone gel in little sample packets because they were very expensive and they wanted to make sure my insurance would cover the cost. So finally on Thursday Nov. 10 I get a call from the pharmacy that my prescription was ready. So we go there to get it and she tells me it’s over 200 Dollars. My jaw dropped at that. We asked whether the insurance was giving a problem or what? As we were trying to figure it all out, it turns out they even ordered the wrong gel (yes they had to order it!). There are two different strength levels of progesterone: 4% and 8%. The doctor had been giving me the 8% and I was sure that’s what she wanted me to continue with. The pharmacy got the 4%, so we called the doctor’s office to set it all straight. Turns out the insurance doesn’t cover it unless we get it from Walgreens. So then Walgreens had to order it and I wasn’t going to get it until the following week! Of course I was on my last 2 or 3 geltubes and I had no way of getting more from my doctor before Monday. So we decided to skip Saturday so we would at least have one for Sunday.
On Sunday, Nov. 13, I found spotting again–this time more than before. I was in tears, I was devastated. DH tried to calm me and encourage me, but there was nothing that could ease my mind anymore. I blamed the absence of the one tube of progesterone gel, I blamed anything I possibly could, even myself for being stupid and not taking care of matters more effeciently.
I called my doctor as soon as I was able on Monday. Unfortunately at that time the doctor was out of town and the assistant told me that, if I’m really that worried about it, I should go to the emergency room. … what kind of answer is that? I mean… don’t you have a doctor covering for your office?! Well, the spotting stopped then on Monday though–there was nothing anymore. So I felt better. Then Tuesday, Nov. 15, I spotted again. I got so sick of not knowing what’s going on, and worrying so much, I tried calling my doctor’s office again after talking to DH and trying to decide what to do. But I couldn’t reach anyone at about 3pm. So we decided to go to the emergency room.
There they took blood and did an ultra sound, telling me nothing. They let me wait hours without letting me know what the hell is happening to my baby! (and of course the doctor whom I saw for 2 min. charged us $236 – heck the assistant was there for me more than that doctor, it’s ridiculous, really).
Finally the doctor comes in and tells me that my hcg lvl had gone down and on the ultrasound they saw that the baby wasn’t moving anymore and the heart had stopped beating.
I was lying on that hospital bed and just wanted to shrink into nothingness. Some people can’t understand how devastating the loss of a baby can be, even when it is only 9 weeks into the pregnancy. It felt like I lost my child, and guess why that is? …. Because I lost my child! It doesn’t matter how old it was or whether it was born or not, it was still my child. I wonder, do those people who can’t understand a mother-to-be’s feelings have any idea how big the fetus is at 9 weeks? It had started developing bones! Yea so maybe it was only about an inch big, so what?
DH was very brave and didn’t shed a tear in the hospital all the while I was crying like a pig. When we got home he finally let go, and we cried together.
The next day I had a short episode of denial…