I just got home from a really shitty follow-up appointment. I apologize for unloading on y'all, but I felt like getting it all out might help.
First, we'll start with the knocked-up teenager in the waiting room with her mother and other baby (right at a year old, probably). Brilliant.
Then, the midwife I saw was horrible. She treated my husband and me like we were complete morons and was just downright offensive. I didn't really have any questions about why/what had happened, because the ER doc told me it was more than likely a BO. I told her that, but asked if the pathology report showed anything different, just in case. She proceeded to READ ME the path report, including the graphic medical terminology. I tried to get her to stop, but she paid no attention to me. For the love of pete, woman, I asked a yes or no question: "Did the pathology report show anything inconsistent with the diagnosis of blighted ovum that the ER doctor gave me?" I did not need to hear about the color and shape of my "products of conception." THEN, we had this exchange (reproduced as closely to verbatim as I can remember):
MW: So, yeah, there was no fetal tissue. That means there was no baby in there.
I: Yeah, I know. The ER doctor told me that was probably going to be the case, and then you just read it to me. Thanks.
MW: It's just such a mystery to me how your body can do that. It just tricks you. Isn't that such a mystery how your body can make you think you're pregnant but you're not?
I: *thousand-yard stare, because I can't believe she just said that*
MW: What, you don't think it's a mystery?
I: *blinks* I was actually pregnant.
MW: Do you think there was a baby and you passed the fetal tissue before you went to the hospital?
I: No, there wasn't fetal tissue to pass. It was a blighted ovum, which would have been too small to notice passing and never had a chance to get to be a fetus, anyway. But it was still fertilized, and, in my belief system that means it was a baby. To say that I was never really pregnant is offensive.
MW (kind of snippily): Oh. Well. I didn't mean to hurt your feelings.
Then she proceeded to describe exactly how an internal exam worked, because I'm clearly an idiot. Thanks, lady, I've been getting paps for a few years now, I know what a speculum is.
Finally, I went over for bloodwork to check my hcg level (it was 3,000 the day of the m/c) and the phlebotomist was pregnant. Nothing like salt in a wound.