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Wow, this is going to be a pretty hard thread for a lot of people. I'll post mine but it was a long time ago so time has softened the memory some.

I went to my appointment and went through w/ the PAP and all that uncomfortable stuff. The nurse tried to find a heart beat, but was unable to and since I didn't know my exact date she figured that I was further behind than initially believed. The next evening I started spotting blood. I called the advice line Monday morning and they had me come in for an appointment. DH (then DF) came with me and after a short exam I was sent to the hospital for an u/s. When I got the u/s done the baby was already spiraling apart. I couldn't really recognize any features or anything and the baby had been dead for a while, but I don't remember all of the details. I was sent home and told that it would pass on it's own.

Skip to Wednesday evening. I'm just getting ready for bed and I feel a gush. I run to the bathroom and blood just begins to pour out of me. There are thick clots and blood filling the toilet. I was supposed to save everything and bring it to the doctor w/ me after everything was done, but I just couldn't bring myself to fish anything out. I was too scared to look for the baby so my MIL looked for me, but didn't find anything. I put a new pad on and went back to bed. I was lying there about two minutes and realized that I was lying in a puddle of blood. DH went to get his mother (we were staying with her for the time) and she rushed me to the ER. When I got into the ER I stumbled in with blood running down my legs and onto the floor. They rushed me in and took my vitals. That's when I started puking. I was handed a plastic bag with a hard plastic rim and measurement marks on it so they can tell how much I've thrown up. I filled one up almost immediately and was working on my second one when I was put into an exam room. I ran into the bathroom and was alternately throwing up and having explosive diarrhea while bleeding all over the place. I was hooked up to an IV and they pumped me full of demerol and all kinds of other stuff. Don't know. Once that demerol hit me, everything was okay. I just turned my head to the wall and cried while my MIL stroked my hair. I was admitted around 3 am and don't remember getting to my room. I went through a D&C sometime during the next day. All I remember was being crucified and someone telling me to close my eyes and it would all be okay. I was released the same day around 4 pm. I was totally drained, white as a sheet, and felt so empty. I was kept in OBGYN/L&D during my stay and I remember hearing babies crying and thinking they were my baby. It was hard. The thing I remember most about my m/c was the pain and humiliation. I was throwing up/crapping myself/bleeding everywhere while doubled over in pain. That was the most pain I've ever experienced in my whole entire life. I felt as if a hand was grabbing my uterus and ripping it into pieces while pulling it out of my body. I'll never forget the pain...and the sorrow. I'm so happy to be PG now, but at the same time my pregnancy is tinged w/ a hint of sorrow and hesitancy. I'm a little more reassured now because this one is sooo different from my first, but I still find myself thinking "if this pregnancy is successful" from time to time.
 
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