This morning we had our second doctor’s appointment, at 13 weeks 1 day.

The nurse-practitioner student tried using the doppler, and we were really excited because we might get to hear the heartbeat.

All we could hear was my heartbeat.

So they cheerfully dragged in the ultrasound machine, saying, “when the babies are so little, sometimes pushing on the tummy makes them run away.”

On the ultrasound, we saw the baby, right there.

Not moving.

The heartbeat had stopped.

We went to the main fetal medicine ultrasound, to find out exactly when this happened.

Last week, they think.

The baby is pretty big.

It was just laying there, in my uterus, like a dead…little baby.

(Which, actually, it is.)

We’ve had not one single sign of miscarriage.  No bleeding.  Cervix still closed.

In fact, I am – in one of many ironies – SHOWING.  Because my uterus has really grown.

In fact, I puked three times last night – on the sidewalk, in the restaurant (and yes, this time I did the start a meal, puke, and end a meal last night – yet another irony, huh?), at home.

The placenta is certainly not dead.

They told me I have no options but to have a D&C.  The baby – the products of conception – the BABY – is too big to be naturally passed.

Too big to use misoprostol.

The D&C is tomorrow morning.  I wanted to wait, and then I realized that I would just keep feeling pregnant, even though I’m not pregnant any more.  I just have this insane placenta that keeps on sucking my blood and making me puke.

We will find out whether the baby was a boy or girl, because I want to know.  And we will – for closure, kind of like we want to know the cause of death – send our baby to pathology to find out what the hell happened.

To say that we are completely devastated is a gross understatement.

I am trying to continue to be thankful – that we had this opportunity, that we got to see something we made on an ultrasound screen, while s/he was still alive – I am trying.  Really, I am.

I am trying to praise God for this, even though it is so, so, so damn hard to do so right now.

I haven’t cried this much in…well, in a really long time.  Possibly ever.

I mean, 13 weeks.

I puked my way through THIRTEEN WEEKS.

I can’t help but feel that it is my body that killed the baby – that it was my antibodies.

That I killed my baby.

Today fucking sucks.

We covet your prayers.  Thank you.

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