I can’t believe I’m writing this but I’m still waiting for my test results. I’ve got three different test results due from three different hospitals and, other than an entirely pointless meeting with an almost incompetent doctor three weeks ago, I haven’t heard a word since I left hospital on 29th December.
After phoning around a number of switchboards on Tuesday of this week, I managed to get the number for the secretary to my named consultant (I’ve never actually met or spoken to her but she is supposedly responsible for my file). The secretary was perfectly friendly but a really bad blagger so it was easy to tell from her tone of voice that the note which the incompetent doctor had left for the consultant to “chase the London hospital for the results and follow up with the patient” had simply been put on the file and no further action had been taken. Grrr! The secretary said that she would chase it up for me and that one of the consultant’s two secretaries would phone me back to let me know what was going on. I duly left my number even though it should be plastered over my file.
Well that was 8am Tuesday morning and it’s now 8am Saturday morning and I haven’t heard a thing!!!
So I’m still waiting for:
(I) Results of the tests on the products of conception which I gave to the hospital on 17th December having driven a 4 hour round trip after my medically managed miscarriage at home.
(II) Results of a blood test I had on 8th January to see what was happening with my hormone levels.
(III) Results for the tests from my D&C on 29th December to confirm whether it was a molar pregnancy.
(IV) The arrival of AF. I currently have painful boobs, slight nausea and increased CM. This could be the imminent arrival of AF or an increase of hCG as a result of a molar pregnancy becoming persistent gestational trophoblast disease (PGTD). I’m hoping for the first but until I get the results back from the hospital or AF arrives, I have no idea.
I am an impatient person at the best of times and this would test the patience of a saint (which I am definitely not!)
I’ve always been pretty average. Normal. Good, but not outstanding. When I’ve said this about myself people have told me off for putting myself down, telling me that I’m far better than average. But they don’t understand, I don’t say I’m average to be self deprecating, I honestly think that being average is a good thing. For example, I’m not unattractive but I’ve never worried that a man only likes me for my looks. I’m clever but I didn’t end up rebellious at school because the education system wasn’t challenging enough for my vast intellect. I wear average sized clothes and shoes, which makes shopping easy as the stores always stock plenty. I’m lucky enough to be paid more than the national average but my pay is average for my role. I make friends easily as being fairly average I can relate to a lot of people and no one finds me intimidating. From my perspective average is pretty good.
One area of my life were I wish I could be average is reproduction, but unfortunately we found out yesterday that we are far from average. We first got pregnant this time last year. That pregnancy ended in miscarriage in March. Our second pregnancy lasted from May to July again ending in miscarriage. We honestly believed that we would be third time lucky. Statistically the chance of having three miscarriages with no live births was really low. But last night we went for an early scan at 7 weeks and as soon as I saw the sac on the screen I knew that our dream wasn’t to be. The sac was empty! Stunned I questioned how this was possible. I’d had four strong pregnancy tests in recent weeks. I had early pregnancy symptoms and I’d had no bleeding or spotting at all. How could I seem so pregnant without there even being a visible embryo?? The sonographer was lovely but very matter of fact. It is the sac and placenta which produce the pregnancy hormone not the baby, it’s perfectly possible to seem pregnant without a viable embryo. Now we just wait to see if I will miscarry naturally. Based on the last two, this seems unlikely so we will probably be facing a medical or surgical management in a few weeks time. Just in time for Christmas – joy!
So we have had the dreaded hat-trick and officially joined the recurrent miscarriage club. It’s an elite group that nobody wants to be part of. But there are no average people here. To gain entry you have to be truly special. This is not a tenth percentile group. Everyone here is 1 in 100! My mum always said that everyone is special in their own way. I just wish that my talent had been something good like baton twirling or oragami. Why does my unusual trait have to be being reproductively flawed??
I would give anything not to have lost our first two babies but through all of the sadness, there are moments when I can see the silver linings. Despite trying to conceive for five months, when we first discovered that we were expecting in January 2013, I think the boy and I both had an few scared moments when we realised that our lives as we know them would never be the same. After getting over the devastation of the first miscarriage, we found that we really appreciated being able to do things which we had previously taken for granted (and which we won’t be able to do when we finally have a baby). Spontaneous post work drinks, weekend camping trips with the dogs and cross country bike rides all have greater importance now that we appreciate that the time during which we can do these things is (hopefully) limited.
We have also been able to book a holiday of a lifetime which would not have been possible if we had had our September baby. The boy had long talked about wanting to photograph the autumn colours in Boston and New Hampshire and I have a fondness for US holidays (there is something more relaxing about holidaying somewhere where you can speak the language). So a few weeks ago when we got home from the hospital following my second ERPC, we took the plunge and booked a 9 day trip around Boston and New Hampshire for October this year. I cannot wait!
When you are trying to start a family it can often feel as if life is put on hold but I am trying hard to focus on the now and to appreciate the things which are currently possible. Hopefully we can keep experiencing little adventures as a family of two whilst we wait for our life as a family of three to begin.
Welcome to the blog I never thought I’d write. I’d never thought of myself as a blogger. Didn’t really see the point in spending hours writing down random musings that few people would want to (or would ever) read. But now after two missed miscarriages in four months (one discovered at 13 weeks and one at 9 weeks), I feel like I want somewhere to put down in writing how I’m feeling. Hopefully it will help someone else going through a similar experience, and even if no one ever reads it, I feel like it will be good for me to get the thoughts out of my head and into words (wow that sounds deeper than expected – I’m not a deep, big thinker kind of person). Over the coming weeks I am intending to add posts recording some of my experiences from the past six months, from the day I found out I was pregnant for the first time to my second miscarriage, so apologies if they are all a little disjointed.
The key thing which has been on my mind over the past few days has been feeling as if I’m excluded from the ‘Pregnancy Reminiscing Group’ (PRG). This is the group of woman who are either pregnant or who have children and who publically reminisce about their pregnancies. The PRG are the first to share advice when others announce their pregnancies and will talk about their experiences of morning sickness, taking pregnancy tests, having their first scan etc. and I am categorically not allowed to be part of their group! Even my close friends who know about my miscarriages will happily talk about their experiences but if I dare to say anything about my experiences, I am shot down, or glared at. I understand that it can be awkaward for them and that if they don’t think about it, it’s like it didn’t happen. But it did happen and I hate being made to feel as if I should simply erase those months from my life. It’s not like I’m talking about seeing my dead baby on a scan or having an operation or what miscarriage bleeding is like. I appreachiate that no one wants to hear about the bad stuff, but I wish that when people were sharing tips on how to cure morning sickness or are laughing about falling asleep whilst eating due to first trimester tiredness, that I was allowed to vocalise my experience without it being a huge social faux pas. I want to yell, I KNOW EXACTLY WHAT IT IS LIKE TO EXPERIENCE THE FIRST TRIMESTER, I’VE DONE IT, TWICE!
By I don’t, I keep quiet and pretend that it never happened. After all, how can you know what pregnancy is like if you don’t have a baby?
I was given a one percent chance of conceiving. I hope to share my journey with everyone in hopes that it will make the journey for someone else a little easier. I am not a medical professional. I am just a normal person trying to understand my own situation and share my story. **If this is your first visit, please start with the timeline. For greater details on the events, follow the hyperlinks.