Jen:
Blake and I spent the morning cleaning the house and getting ready for a much anticipated visit from Marsha and Tyler, my sister and brother-in-law. Around 12:30 I jumped in the shower, planning to eat a quick lunch afterwards and put the kids down for their nap. Within seconds of entering the shower, I realized that my miscarriage was in process. About two weeks earlier, my doctor had confirmed that our baby did not have a heartbeat. Blake and I mourned the loss of our sweet child and hoped that the miscarriage would complete itself naturally without need for intervention. As I stood with the water pouring down on me, I realized I was quickly losing a large volume of blood and became dizzy. I called for Blake and he tried his best to help. Marsha and Tyler arrived about 10 minutes into the ordeal and instantly took over as caretakers for our two little girls. I laid on the bathroom floor, lined with towels and prayed that I wouldn't pass out. Blake called my doctor and helped me to the bed. He brought the girls to me one by one to kiss me before they laid down for their naps. Eden looked at me with such concern. She knew something was wrong though I tried to hide it. She watched me intently as Blake carried her to her room and closed our bedroom door. My doctor's nurse called back again after several conversations and said that I should come to the office. I told Blake after he laid the girls in their beds. We slipped on shoes and headed to the car. On the way out, I felt light-headed and could barely stay awake on the way to the doctor's office, which happens to be attached to the hospital. I laid the seat back in an effort to not pass out and whispered "E.R" to Blake. He thought we should stick with the doctor's orders and rushed the car toward the entrance of the doctor's office and asked for a wheelchair. My eyes were closed and Blake sounded far away as he told me to put my arms around his neck. I reached up and held on and felt my body fall limply into the chair. All was dark but I could hear the chaos that ensued.
Blake:
Once we reached the hospital, I pulled under the covered driveway entrance of the women's pavilion. I left Jen with the car running, and I sprinted to the nearest nurses' station. There I found two nurses and said with enough determination in my voice and fear in my eyes, "My wife is having a miscarriage, she is about to pass out, and I need you to get me a wheelchair to take her upstairs," that they both sprang to their feet and rushed to find a wheelchair. Wheelchair procured, we rushed to the car. I picked up Jen from the car, and put her in the wheelchair. Once upright, she fainted. We rushed her upstairs to the OB-GYN office. She was paler than I have ever seen her, and her eyes were so dilated I could barely see her irises. The nurse ran inside to get a doctor/other nurses while I talked to Jen and tried to keep her conscious. A concerned middle-aged couple stopped to ask if she was alright. (Sidenote: if a lady is pale, looks like she's unconscious, and her husband is patting her face trying to get her to stay awake, she is NOT OK.) The middle-aged man asked if she was breathing...I snapped at him that of course she was breathing...then, I checked to make sure that she actually was. Finally, a nurse from the OB-GYN practice ran out, and began speeding Jen in her wheelchair through the back halls of the practice. They were unsure what to do with her at first, until finally one of the doctors rounded a corner and told us to take Jen straight to the ER. The nurse and I ran full speed with Jen through the hospital, got to the ER, and were immediately put in a room. Jen's OB was not far behind us. She immediately took charge of the situation and got Jen on IV fluids. As they checked Jen's vitals, it became clear that her blood pressure was very low (77/36). We waited for the IV fluids to raise her blood pressure. When that didn't work, they gave Jen her first blood transfusion.
After a few hours, we were transferred to a regular room in the women's pavilion of the hospital. The ride from the ER to the women's pavilion, however, caused Jen to pass out again. Her vitals looked no better while in the women's pavilion, and within an hour she was transferred to the ICU.
Jen:
I remember Blake patting my face once and him coming into view and then going dark again. I could hear the panic in his voice and I felt the wind rushing over me as they raced through the halls. I remember feeling like I was barely in the chair but not having enough energy to raise myself up or care. In the E.R. I remember being extremely cold. They covered me in layers of blankets that came out warm but quickly felt like ice packs on my limp limbs. The nurses worked quickly with my doctor to raise my blood pressure and I remember desperately wanting to sleep but feeling dizzy and afraid. I think I passed out again when they transferred me to the new bed in the women's pavilion. My mind raced and I was in so much pain. I needed help but didn't know what to ask for, just some lasting relief from the death that breathed hot on my neck. It didn't take much time for my doctor to determine that I needed to go to the ICU. I needed constant supervision since my blood pressure was so low and the ICU staff could provide that vigilant care. ICU just seemed like a continuation of my battle. I was cold as ice. My pressure would not raise. My stomach lurched and cramped with the pain of miscarriage. They pushed medicine, blood, IV fluids into my body hour after hour. I remember telling Blake what kind of person I wanted him to remarry after I died and not to feel guilty about it. I told my pastor's wife to take care of Blake and the girls since so many times families are forgotten within days or weeks of tragedies like this one. She reassured me that everything would be fine. I could hear people whispering about the fear of DIC and septic shock, that I might enter organ failure if they couldn't get the infection and blood pressure under control. I wondered how God could save me when nothing seemed to be helping. I thought this might truly be the end of my life. I thought about my sweet daughters' faces as I drifted in and out of consciousness. With constant attention and care, my pressure slowly began to rise but was still well below normal (80's/ 40's). Eventually, I was able to talk and even laugh with Blake and several friends from church who had come to pray and wait. It seemed like the dark cloud was lifting and there was hope that things might improve.
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