Is it sad that the only thing I can think to write about is my hatred for pregnant women. All these women who get to have babies, who have multiple children and walk around like they're just so miserable. Try getting pregnant, knowing things didn't seem right, but no one, NO ONE, not even your three OB doctors, try to help you or look into anything. I guess I should start from the beginning.
I was pregnant the beginning of September. After a few weeks I could feel the effects. A couple more weeks and everything just stayed the same. I've never been pregnant, I thought it was odd, but I let it go since I was going in for a 10 week ultrasound. There I am, at my first ultrasound with the first of one of my three OB that this stupid army clinic here in Vicenza make you see. He searches, pushes, wands my innards to what felt to be no end. He says there is a little sack, which is not a 10 week progression, it looks about 4 or 5 weeks. Does he tell us that it isn't right? No. Does he do anything but go on about his own miscarriages for a while, yet never ever saying that is what was on his mind. Well way to go, dude. I get to come back in another 5 weeks?! Isn't that a little long to wait when you think things aren't right?! Apparently not.
The first weekend in December, I was 14 weeks and at a marriage retreat in Garmisch, DE. I was feeling fine, but I knew all week long that this was the weekend. I was going to start gushing blood. And that I did; right in the middle of downtown Garmisch. I go to the ER. The OB there does an ultrasound, checks a bunch of things and she is very adamant about knowing if my cycles were regular. Why, yes, they were always regular, down to the day most months. She knew I was 14 weeks. She knew it was not right. She knew there was going to be severe pain. She wanted to do a D&C the next morning, but not having ever been put under, I did not want to not wake up when expected and miss the bus to go back to Italy. I forewent the procedure in Germany to go back to Italy and see someone there.
Now, as a side note, it was Thanksgiving day and my friend Erica made me call the clinic (birthing center) about my light bleeding. The nurse, who rudely spoke to me, told me there was nothing they would do for me until I was filling at least one pad an hour. I thought that sounded pretty awful, but I went with it. She told me to just come to the clinic when/ if that happens. I hung up with that information.
Moving on. I got back to Italy, slept and woke up to some gnawing little cramps, which, within two hours turned into pretty bad contractions. We went to the clinic as told because I was bleeding much more, but only when I went to the toilet. Once there, I was taken in by a rude nurse into their lunch area to be told there was absolutely nothing they were going to do for me. At this point, I was keeled over in pain. She was like well, you do look pale and maybe like you're cramping a little. I wanted to scream at her that cramp didn't explain it. I was in full on labor, but I had no voice it was so painful. They told me no one would have ever told me to come to the clinic and that they had no room for me. There was no one available to help me since three women were in the birthing center in labor. Again, I wanted to scream about it. Labor is not a fast thing for most people and all it would have taken was a simple, fast ultrasound and labs, which wasn't even their job. I left.
On the 20 minute drive to the hospital I had one continuing 20 minute contraction. I honestly thought I was going to lose years of my life due to the pain, especially because I was not delivering a baby, I was just …dying. So, I get out of the car and by the time I get in the hospital, where the liaison spoke amazing english and the doctor on staff made us both feel so at home, the pain subsided. Now, I went in the bathroom 7 times in the hour I was there before I was hooked up to an IV. I made two major murder scenes and flooded my pants all seven times. Was I give another to wear? No. After the exam, and a shot that did the opposite of what it was supposed to, I was placed on a bed in a room lined with huge pregnant bellies and the heartbeats that resided within them. At the time, I was so relieved that the pain was gone, I just thought wow, if I didn't feel relief I'd be going insane, sitting here with these women hearing their babies heartbeats for an hour at a time. I was in there for a little over 2 hours and there must have been 10 women or more to come and go. The pain was so bad that I was in denial for almost 2 days. I felt a-ok with everything. Then I saw a pregnant women. I wanted to punch her face in and beat down that stomach.
I hate that clinic. Even after I came back that same day they wouldn't put in for labs that were supposed to be done ever two days. They told me it took at least a week and that I shouldn't come back until my appointment and just do it then, a whole week later. I did not do that. And I still go in (every week now, but it was more frequent at first) because my HCg quantitative number is still not back to normal. They didn't give a crap about me. They were more busy tending to the healthy pregnant people. Screw them. A lady on fb put up a question that was exactly like my situation, but they were taking care of her. They were concerned for her. She was getting ultrasounds and blood tests etc before she got past 10 weeks. How can they do that?! She already has a kid with no underlying issues. Screw them. Screw her. Guess what. I did it all myself. I dealt with it myself, right through to the end, even if that was in the hospital. I was waiting for them to see me the whole time, I got no treatment. I received what could be classified as abuse when you think of he mental state of someone like me being shoved in a shared room with women weeks from having their babies.
