The Get Out of Hell Pass is Renegged

I stopped blogging after I found out I was pregnant, it was like I would jinx myself or something. My mantra was 12 weeks, 12 weeks, God just get me past the magical 12 weeks. I only told the trusted, the one's who would be ok if I came crashing down. A few nosey parkers busted me along the way and it pissed me off no end.

I also didn't know how to approach a blog about pregnancy, I sometimes read the bloggers who have had successful IVF but they're the only one's I can bear to read and only skim read them.
My husband and I tried not to let ourselves get too excited, but suddenly one of us would get caught up and take the other with them. Then remember it was too early to plan and dream.

Then just as we emerged from hell and and I found myself almost back to the easy going, friendly person I used to be (never completely, infertility alters you, I never felt quite the same and always the pissed off anger, the guilt that I'd made it out of IVF, and more I can't express). My life turned into a soap opera.

The first scan showed a small yolk sac, but a heart beat and the baby was the right size. My Dr was worried but said there was some hope, a scan next week. We went away worried but hopeful. I redoubled my relaxation tapes and meditation.

Next week 2 scans the heart beat was there, but the baby was 10 days behind. My Dr and the Dr he got a 2nd opinion of just shook there heads and said that they were sorry there was nothing they could do. J and I appreciated the honesty but I felt so weird, I was walking around knowing the baby was dying. Still experiencing sore boobs, nausea etc. It was surreal to turn up to work every day and pretend that I was normal because it didn't feel normal.

On Thursday the scan showed the baby, but no heartbeat. My Dr was upset about the bad news but I had been bawling for a week and a half now so it was almost a feeling of relief. We all decided that to avoid another operation and anesthetic would be ideal. The plan was to let it pass naturally.


Friday I felt like shite at the swimming sports. Cramping, bleeding, bored and wanting to be in bed. Good thing is I had a giant cuppacino, it's been 3 months since I'd had caffeine.

Saturday, bled heavily over night but that morning it felt like a light, bit crampy period. Wasn't working for the family so I decided to shop for groceries. Big mistake. I must have had the most dramatic miscarriage. So ironic after I had been keeping it quiet at work and trying to be all stoic. Any way I made it around the supermarket, got to the butchers and felt funny( put it down to the sight of the meat and the fact that I'm a vego), Got to the grocers and everything went off track.

I cut short the amount of vegies I was buying as I was in a sweat now, made it to the check out in time to tell the woman I was going to faint. The guys that work there caught me and put me in a chair. They called J ( I carry a mobile for emergencies and left it at home for the first time ever). I felt myself go through stages.
If he gets here now I can still drive

if he gets here now I can make it to his car and a Dr's

If he gets here now I can make it to his car and to the emergency section of the hospital up the road

If he gets here now I can't move

I somehow asked them to call and ambulance and told them I needed to lie down. They helped me out the back and I threw up in their sink. Then I lay on the ground shaking and hyperventalating, trying not to throw up again.
J came and the ambulance not much longer after that. I asked for drugs straight away, that's how wimpy I was, I couldn't take the pain. The drugs were excellent and in the ambulance on the way to emergency, I asked the ambo if this was the wimpiest call out. He said not at all, it's quite common and he said my low blood pressure was part of the problem so I felt a bit better about that. The nurses also told me that different people react differently to miscarriage. My Dr met me at emergency a couple of hours later and luckily I had private cover as there were no beds in public and 3 whole empty wards in private. (Something sucks there)

My poor husband was so freaked out he had chest pains. To make things even weirder he was waiting at home around the time I would have been under and suddenly my Airedale, Leo, let out this long mournful howl. My husband panicked and rang the hospital.

So now I have two days off work to recover from my very public miscarriage and the operation.
And a big thank you to the women who proceeded to interrogate me and tell me off in the grocers for not having a D and C done and that my Dr didn't know what he was doing and I was going to get sick and infected and I shouldn't have been out etc. I bet you were a bossy nurse. ( no offence to nurses. I'm a teacher and my husband sometimes has to pull me into line for being bossy)

(Just a thought, but following the soap opera theme I wouldn't have been at all surprised if I had have woken up after the operation with tubes up my nose, my Dr would have been Marlena, the nurses Beau and Hope Brady, Stephanie would have been at my bedside telling me I would marry Ridge, Thorn or some other square jaw over her dead body and Sally Spectra would declare that I was the best wedding dress designer in the world so that's why she stole all my designs.)