Baby Carriage With 3 Babies In It Old Fashioned My Misdiagnosed Miscarriage

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My Misdiagnosed Miscarriage

It was April 24, 2015, my 26th birthday! I’m a BIG TIME celebrator, so in our house we celebrate everything from half birthdays to half anniversaries, to just plain random days that I feel are worth celebrating! My 26th birthday was extra special this year though because I had a sweet little peanut growing in my belly and I was about to see the little miracle for the first time at my 8 week OB appointment.

I arrived at the Women’s Health Clinic over an hour early because it was too painful to wait at home as I watched my clock tick by every second. The lobby was filled with pregnant women in all stages. Some looked so happy, just couldn’t help but smile and rub their belly to feel the moving miracle growing inside them, and some looked miserable after being late, just ready to jump. I picked a chair and sat down with my 14-month-old, still not giving up hope that my doctor might be able to see me a few minutes early. Ava and I played pat-a-cake, watched a few episodes of Barney, and ate lots of snacks. I remember looking at her and thinking you’re about to be a big sister! You two will be best friends. My heart was so full.

“Mrs Bishop” called the nurse at last. Ava and I quickly jumped out of our chairs and headed back. When we entered the room, the nurse had me hop on the scale, then checked my vitals and asked a few standard questions about how I was doing. “I’m feeling great! It’s my birthday and I’m seeing my baby for the first time! I have bad morning/all day sickness but that’s nothing new for me during pregnancy.”

I sat back on the exam table and relaxed as I looked over at the nurse preparing and sterilizing the equipment my doctor would use for the ultrasound. I started wondering What if it’s two babies? How will I react? I have to keep my cool. I can handle two. It’s probably just one. There is definitely only one.

“Hello Mrs. Bishop!” my doctor said as he opened the door, “It’s nice to meet you. Today we’re going to see your baby’s heartbeat for the first time.” My baby’s heartbeat. What a beautiful sight. “Just sit back and relax and let’s take a look.” He placed the probe and we both looked at the screen. He nervously started moving the probe around and my heart sank before he even spoke a word.

“Ms. Bishop, I’m so sorry to tell you this, but there’s no heartbeat. You’ve had a miscarriage, and what we’re seeing right here is just the tissue left behind.”

My heart stopped and my head started spinning, then I started sobbing like any mother would. I cried so hard that the nurse had to put Ava back in her pram. How did this happen? What did I do wrong? This was my fault. My precious baby was gone.

“PLEASE CHECK AGAIN! PLEASE LOOK ONE MORE TIME! PLEASE JUST LOOK!” I cried out and begged for a different result.

“Ms. Bishop, your baby is gone. Please get dressed and follow the nurse to my office so we can schedule your D&C.” Dilation and curettage (D&C) is a surgical procedure in which the cervix is ​​widened and a special instrument is used to scrape the lining of the uterus. The main goal of treatment during or after an abortion is to prevent bleeding and/or infection from the tissue left behind.

I stumbled into his office and honestly I don’t even remember how I got out of the exam room. The doctor called my husband’s number and gave me his office phone. “Trey, I miscarried and I need you here now. Right now.”

“Alright, it looks like we have an opening for your surgery on Monday, April 27th. I’m scheduling you at 8:00, but he’ll definitely be here 45 minutes early for paperwork.”

The only words that came out of my mouth in his office were “Is there any way my baby could still be alive? Is it possible? Has this ever happened before?”

“No Mrs. Bishop. That’s never happened before. I’m 99.9% sure your baby is gone.”

My husband helped me to my car and I followed him home with the most painful, gut-wrenching emptiness inside of me. I had no idea the agony one would feel miscarrying so early in the pregnancy.

As I pulled into the driveway, I called my mom and just sobbed—I let it all out. If you know my mom, you know the amazing woman she is, so she immediately jumped in her car and picked up my sweet Rickey B (my stepdad) and they drove to our house in Killeen from Houston (a 3 hour drive). For the rest of the day, this little voice inside me kept asking, Why am I showing no signs of miscarriage? Why do I still feel sick?

My husband, who had missed the actual ultrasound due to meetings at work, wanted closure by seeing for himself that the baby was indeed gone, so he made sure we got a second opinion before any procedure was done. I don’t remember exactly how it happened, but radiology is always booked at least 3 months out at the hospital we were assigned to, and I know that ultrasounds are very rarely scheduled on Saturdays for outside patients – only those in the ER, who experience life-threatening emergencies, but it just so happened that there had been a technician working Friday night to Saturday morning with an appointment cancellation at 05.45.

We checked in with radiology at 5:15 and they took us right back to the room. The ultrasound technician was very upset, probably because it was so early and he was working all night. He asked me to sit still so he could confirm the abortion. How dare he be so sure about my miscarriage before he’s even done the ultrasound. He grabbed the probe and placed it on my stomach. “Holy cow!, drink a lot of water, wait 10 minutes and come back”, he shouted. “I can’t tell you anything but go and drink water and come back.”

I listened. I drank so much water I almost threw up. By the time 10 minutes had passed I was back in the room holding up my shirt so he could do the ultrasound.

“Congratulations, Mom! 160 beats per minute!”

My baby was ALIVE. Praise God! My baby was ALIVE! I watched this miracle’s little heart beat and beat and beat and I sobbed with joy each time. The technician did all the measurements that my doctor had to do at the appointment the day before and the baby measured perfectly. Everything was normal and right on track for my 8 week old embryo.

I now have a happy, healthy 13-month-old who is just the sweetest little boy in the whole world. He is on the right track, development-wise. How did this happen?

I think my baby was always alive. To this day, I don’t know why we didn’t see a heartbeat at the first appointment. Maybe my doctor just made a mistake and it was a misdiagnosed miscarriage. Or maybe his little heart beat only after that appointment, just a late bloomer in the heartbeat. But I tell this story to explain that no doctor on the planet is right 100% of the time, or 99.9% for that matter, so when your mother’s intuition tells you otherwise, listen to it. It’s sad to think how many women the same thing may have happened to.

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