Sweet Dr T

I went back to the hospital so that they can do some follow-up checks on my blood to (hopefully) rule out some possible causes for recurrent miscarriages... and I finally wrote the looooong overdue 'thank you' card to my doctor, Dr T, who delivered Chloe and whom I have been seeing for all the follow-up checks. Writing that card was hell a lot harder than I initially expected, so I procrastinated for a while, but it's something that I really wanted to do/ had to do because I truly appreciated his soothing bedside manner and his patience in explaining things to me (I am not exactly the sharpest crayon in the box!!).

Dr T then shared with me that he actually felt bad about me having to stay in the same ward (i.e. maternity ward) as all the women who have just given birth. When he said that, I was dumbstruck because this 'issue' is something that bothered me a whole lot but I have never thought of doing anything about it ... To be more precise, I didn't know what I can do about it.

I went through this very horrible but unforgettable experience twice, and I hope never ever again. The first experience was when I miscarried Lucas. Then, it wasn't that bad cos I was in a single bedded ward so I didn't get to see babies, hear babies crying or nurses teaching the new moms how to breastfeed. But when I was settling the paper work and waiting to be discharged, I couldn't help but notice the stark contrast between myself and the other moms. Also, MOST of the people in that ward have something to smile and be happy about, but not me. I am the sole one who is being discharged without my baby. He won't be coming home with me... ever.

The second time round with Chloe, we were advised to opt for a subsidized ward so that in the event if Chloe had a fighting chance, she'd have to stay in the NICU for a long time and we can put aside the money for her hospitalisation bills. There were also some other reasons related to government subsidies, so we heeded their advice and opted for a 6-bedded room.

Unfortunately, Chloe did not get that fighting chance that I so badly wished for and I ended up still having to share a room with 5 other women who have/ will go on to have ALIVE, brawling, healthy babies. I'll never forget that night because even though I took a sleeping tablet, I was wide awake. I kept hearing the nurses bringing in the newborns so that they can be fed by their moms. It pained me so much cos while other babies were safely cocooned in their warm blankies and in their mother's arms, MY baby was lying alone in the coldness of the mortuary. I am amazed that I managed to keep my sanity... but that was the longest night of my life. I have never felt more alone, more vulnerable, more frustrated, more helpless and more depressed...

So far I have only shared this very traumatic experience with my best friend and Mark, and very briefly in my very first post. It was only until today that the sweet Dr T told me he felt traumatised on my behalf about what I had to go through that night, so much so that he'd given a feedback about it. Hopefully, the hospital (or rather all hospitals) can make some changes/ improvements in this area. Perhaps they can have a separate ward for people going through pregnancy loss rather than bundling them into the maternity ward. I am sure this will be very much appreciated by bereaved mothers.

Anyway, it really touched me beyond words that the doctor was so empathetic... Ok, I may be making a sweeping statement, but I really don't expect a guy to be this sensitive --- it's something I leant from experience! Moreover, for him as a doctor, it's just a job and at the end of the day I am Patient X who miscarried at 24 weeks. I think we need more doctors like him... empathy is not something that they teach in school. Thank you, Dr T, from the bottom of my heart.

The results of my blood test will be out in 2 week's time. I hope fervently that it will show what the heck is wrong with me/ my body so that if I do gather the courage to try and conceive again, I will be able to carry my baby to term. Then again, my gut feeling (its been pretty accurate so far) is already telling me the results will come back 'ok', meaning I won't know the reason behind the 2 miscarriages.. and why instead of having 2 children, I ended up with 2 angels.

** Dear God... Please trust me when I say that I really have more than enough angels... Please keep both my angels safe in your care until they are back where they belong in my arms, and if it's not too much to ask, can you please send me a healthy baby the next time round? It'd be a refreshing change to be able to happily bring home a wriggling pink/ blue bundle instead of going home empty-handed and with a broken heart. Thank you.