It’s been ages since I have posted. So much has been going on which perhaps I need write up retrospectively in another a post as this will already be long. But here is something which I need to get out.
I woke up on Easter Sunday a day late for my period. My husband was still in bed but I thought, maybe I’ll just do a pregnancy test, I had one left over in the cupboard. It took my breath away that little pink line. It wasn’t a pale one either. It was really there and proud.
I remember waking my husband up and saying “I’m sorry but I need to put the lights on so you can see this.” We both agreed to be cautiously happy about this but I could see he didn’t really believe it. We went on with our planned activities that day and tried, in a way, to ignore what we now knew.
A couple of days later we did a more expensive test and it confirmed I was pregnant. We then repeated the test a week later. Still positive, still no period. We were still being careful to not get to excited but everyday that it stayed I wanted to be a bit more positive. We’d waited nearly three years to get pregnant, it would be just too cruel if this doesn’t work out. Surely we deserve this good news..?
I called the GP and then got booked on to the midwife service for appointment at the end of month. In the mean time I was seeing my fertility consultant for a follow up appointment I had after having laproscopy surgery a couple of months before. We were concerned about a pain I had in my side and so she booked me in for an early scan. I was so pleased we would get to see what was really there, check that it wasn’t ectopic etc etc. Maybe my husband would even get on board with the thinking positive thing.
So I had the scan and there was a clear pregnancy sack. Even I could see it with my untrained eye. I was hoping for a faint heartbeat – it might have been possible at this stage with an internal scan. But that wasn’t there this time and so I was booked for another scan in 10 days time. My husband was relieved that we had more proof!
I told my two friends that had been with me on this journey that I was pregnant. They were so happy. What an amazing feeling.
The next scan wasn’t so good. Still no heartbeat and little growth. The sonographer seemed very sombre. But we were sent to the fertility nurse who explained that as many people don’t get scanned at this early stage, it is hard to say whether or not this may go on to develop normally, or perhaps, implantation didn’t happen as early as thought and we are a bit behind where we thought we were. So, we just need to come back again in another week.
We came back. Little development. We were told to expect miscarriage by the sonographer but, again, the nurse wasn’t giving up. We were to come back in just over week.
There was no miscarriage. I held on to that little Easter Egg baby. It was 9 and 1/2 weeks now this was quite far. I thought if it had got this far then it’s only far that it should be our baby. But no. The next scan showed it had gotten smaller. It was no longer a viable pregnancy they all finally agreed.
We spent the whole morning in hospital listening to our options and trying to decide what the best thing to do was. What’s the best way to get rid of a baby that you really want..? It was bloody horrible.
We decided to take back some control and opted for a ‘surgically managed miscarriage’. It was to happen two days later, when I would have been 10 weeks pregnant. This was heartbreaking for both of us. Tears welled in my husband’s eyes which was devastating to see.
It was the WORST day. The NHS is stretched, I know, but our treatment on that day was pretty bad. Why do you have to come in 7 hours before they take you to surgery..? Why is their communication so poor that they tell you to order a meal for when you are back but then when you are back, tell you there is no meal and that you will have to have a tuna sandwich even though you’re a vegetarian. Why do they insist on putting canulas in the back of your hand even though you explain the problems that this has caused previously? They made my cry from pain putting this in. Why did they not tell me take pain killers before I went under (apparently that is the expectation but that is not what i was told) so that I wouldn’t wake up crying from pain. Why did it then take them 45 mins to give me the pain killers I needed. Why did no-one come and speak to me about what happened during the surgery – I still have no idea? Why did it take 4 hours to discharge me? Why did no-one ask us how we felt, offer us signpost to support services?
So, it was that cruel. Nothing in the universe wanted to be kind to us. It was so hard for us to get pregnant and then it was even hard for us to have a miscarriage. It was cruel.