Destination #1

Destination #1 should have been the maternity ward at the local hospital on August 17th, 2012. Instead, Destination #1 was a Las Vegas ER at 4am on January 16th, 2012. The insensitive staff made jokes about never having seen a positive pregnancy test before. They asked which hotel we were staying at and if we were having a good time. I shot my husband a "not worth it" look as he was about to throttle the staff. Our nurse in the ER congratulated me on my pregnancy. Are you kidding me? At this point I had cramps and heavier bleeding. I knew this was the end and I just wanted to be home, not 28 hours away in the desert of sin city.

They wouldn't allow my husband in the ultrasound room, which has to be illegal. And while the woman was conducting the ultrasound she wouldn't speak to me or make eye contact. I know it's not her job to tell me, but laying there and watching her face in the hopes of catching some sort of sign was even worse than just knowing. She pulled out the transvaginal wand and it was saturated with blood. I wanted to die.

The ER doctor gave us the news. Thankfully, he was an actual human being unlike his colleagues. The prognosis? The baby was still there but there was no heartbeat and my pregnancy hormone was about 10% of what it should have been at almost 10 weeks. That meant miscarriage...and it was only a matter of time before I passed the "tissue".

Thankfully, my body held out until we were back in the windy city. A trip to the obgyn the next day was only supposed to be to confirm the ER's findings. Instead, it ended up being my baby's final resting place. The destination, if you will. When the doctor told me to undress for the examination I began to and instantly miscarried right into my hand. Blood splattered on the white tile of the examination room at the end of the hallway. I held the sac with my dead baby in my right hand and, shaking, I set it on the counter. This was the end. This was truly the end.