Why are we going through this heartache again? Why us? Why, why, why???
As I hadn’t heard anything from our hospital with details of my booking-in appointment or 12 week scan, because of our previous history, and because I had a bloody “show” albeit old blood, I booked a private scan for Saturday, 25th February to check how things were progressing. I would be 6 weeks + 5 days then.
The afternoon of the 25th arrived, nervously we sat in the waiting room at the private clinic, emotions a mix of excitement and worry. We waited and waited, eventually 40 minutes after our appointment time we were seen and given a half hearted apology for the delay. The silence that filled the room was deafening, why wasn’t the Sonographer saying anything? Just as I turned to look at Mr R, the Sonographer said “I’m sorry” and turned the screen to face us. She said I’d had what looked to be a complete miscarriage. How can that be, I hadn’t bled or had any pain… All I could do was squeak a response to what she was saying, my husband sitting beside me with a look of disappointment and hurt. The Sonographer continued the scan to check for an early ectopic but my tubes (and ovaries) were fine, she suggested it could be an ectopic in an unknown location and that I should contact my GP to have HCG beta tests. She also said that I had a couple of cysts in my uterine lining and didn’t know if these were significant or not. Neither Mr R or I could say anything, we were left in stunned silence while she went to write up a report for me to give my GP.
A report for the GP, a leaflet on coping with miscarriage, a leaflet on my options for medical management and £90 poorer we left the clinic, I sobbed the entire way home. It’s not fair.
Yes I had the odd worry, and any slight pain would send me into a panic, but in general I was happy and carefree about this pregnancy. It felt so different to the others, I felt positive that this was THE one, and although still early days with every passing day I felt more confident to start dreaming about pushchairs and names and the nursery decor. How could my own instincts let me down so badly.
Saturday night I started spotting, and Sunday not much more, maybe my body needed to be told the baby had gone in order to miscarry. Sunday evening it started properly. I spent most of the next few days like a zombie, the only things I could do was cry or snap at Mr R, and he didn’t deserve that. As always he was there for me in every way, he carried on for both of us, cooked all the meals, cleaned the house amongst other things, I just sat on the sofa a prisoner to my thoughts.
I saw the Doctor on Tuesday afternoon, he was so apologetic for our loss and even more so when he found out how many losses we’d had and that we didn’t already have children! He gave me the forms for the HCG beta tests, arranged a scan for the following week to check everything’s gone, and made a referral to a Gynae for recurrent miscarriage tests, he also signed me off work for a week. Before I’d gone back to work within a couple days, but this time I NEEDED that time. The rest of the week was emotional and tiring, and to top it off I pinched a nerve in my neck so spent most of it in agony from that as well, and then Mr R came home from work on Thursday to say someone had driven into the back of him and written off his van. Thankfully nobody was hurt and it’s a company van so he can still work.
Universe please give us a break!!!