Monday, December 15, 2014
Miscarriage December 2014
I had an accident this weekend, and had to have help of police and paramedics, etc. I was having a miscarriage and passed out on the kitchen floor. Dallas saved me from further injury by catching me after I passed out before I hit my head. There was blood everywhere (I was hemorrhaging from a bad miscarriage), and the police cleaned up as best they could, and then my amazing friends Nichole and Stacey came and cleaned my entire house, including the rest of the Texas Chainsaw Massacre scene. But Dallas went in my bathroom and cleaned even after them because "they missed some blood". What 12 year old boy does that?
He was very brave, and so was Sam who was the one who called 911. I had just woken them up, because I knew I was in trouble and I was trying to figure out who to call to take me to the hospital. The next thing I knew someone was screaming and I was being beaten. It felt like someone hit me on the backside with a baseball bat. I realized it was me screaming when I woke up on the hard tile floor in great pain from hitting it so hard.
D and S were so caring and loving of their Mom and their younger siblings. It must have been a traumatic experience for them. I told them later that they did the exact right thing, remaining calm, and that this was a pregnancy loss so that they wouldn't think I just randomly did things like this for no reason. Pat was out of town, and I was so relieved to have such wonderful responsible boys.
Charles got woken up by all the loud police talking and Sam laid with him in my bed to calm him while a kind policeman talked to them. They kept asking if I wanted them to call my husband, but I didn't think a call from the Sheriff at 4am would be a good idea. I told them where Pat was (saying goodbye to his brother who is going on a mission to Russia), and they later asked Sam if we were Mormons. He said yes. The police said, "I knew you were mormon because only mormons go to far away places." ? I don't think that's true, but it was neat that he was talking to Sam so much. We'll go visit all these folks when I'm better to thank them. Kevin in the ambulance was great to talk to also. He had to deal with me freaking out because I felt like I was... I don't know... it was scary. I was ripping the belts off and blankets off and thought I would not make it to the hospital. For a few moments there was a desperate painful feeling I've never felt before, like I was dying. I knew I wasn't going to make it. But then suddenly, something came over me and I felt fine and was completely normal and fine after that for the whole ride down and the entire stay at the ER. The bleeding stopped almost completely and they discharged me a few hours later after finding everything was stable. I can't help but wonder if that was someone's prayer.
Evan and Leia, who slept through all the uniforms and flashing lights, think we are just making this all up:)
The church family and friends I have here are the highest quality of people on the earth. They don't judge me (or my messy house), and just love and serve without any hesitation. I knew I could call any number of people at 4am and they would be there but Stacey has been through a lot with me with my surgeries last year, and Nichole is my new neighbor who is wonderful and couldn't help but see all the commotion, so what a blessing to have them! (Though I did have to endure a lot of chastising for not calling them and an ambulance 3 hours earlier when I should have.) I just kept thinking it would stop soon, and by the time I started googling "how much blood is too much" I should have just known. I could soak a bath towel in 5 minutes. There was hardly anything left in the house to put between my legs. I used all the paper towels, pads, toilet paper... I just kept thinking, "I was only 9 weeks along. There can't be that much. This will stop soon...".
When they helped me up off the floor there were huge clots like steaks where I'd been and the police just picked them up without freaking out. Bless them. The didn't have to do any of that.
In the end I wasn't going to tell Pat at all, because he had such a limited amount of time with his family (he flew in to Ca Friday night and had to leave Sunday afternoon) that I didn't want him to worry about anything else but just enjoy his trip. My friends called him though without knowing my plan, and probably in spite of it would have called anyway. Imagine my surprise when I came through the doors of the ER only to be handed a note that said, "Call your husband at this number..."