Yesterday morning I woke to some "spotting", pregnancy term for light bleeding. It was light brown and I hadn't seen this kind of bleed before. It worried me slightly but I assumed the Doctors would tell me to come back to them if something of relevance happened. So I got ready for work.
Rowan was worried and suggested I call the Doctors, I told him they wouldn't be interested. By the time I got to my temping job, I decided that I may as well call them, what did I have to lose?!
Ring ring, ring ring...
Receptionist answers "Doctors surgery"
Me "Can I please see the Doctor as soon as possible?"
Receptionist "You won't be able to see him today, unless it is an emergency"
Me "I am in my first trimester and I have bleeding, however I'm unsure if this is classified as an emergency"
Receptionist "Well I'm not a Doctor and wouldn't be able to make that judgement. Bear with me"
... "Did you say you're pregnant?"
Me "yes, in my first trimester"
Receptionist "Would you like to speak to the midwife?"
Me "yes please"
Midwife (in a very thick Jamaican accent, I won't write phonically, it will just insult everyone) "Hello"
Me "Hi, I'm in my first trimester and I am experiencing some light bleeding, do you think I should worry?"
Midwife "I think you should go to the EPAGU at St Thomas' and get checked out"
Me "Oh, I was going to go to work and see what happened"
Midwife "You're crazy. You can do that but you can also see if it is something to worry about"
Me "Do I need to make an appointment?"
Midwife "If you want but I would just go down there, Floor 8"
I let my agent know that I wouldn't be going to work. Apologised profusely, as I'm British and it's the done thing "I'm sorry old chap but my womb is failing on me you see and I've got to go to the hospital and get invaded in my lady area with an inanimate object covered in a jonny and lube".
I finally arrive at St Thomas' in a total state, by the time I reach the EPAGU, I've had a total breakdown and lived through a miscarriage , been rushed to surgery with an ectopic pregnancy, etc. (I can be a little dramatic at times).
They are lovely. I come out of weeing in to a cup for some unfortunate nurse to test to have the kindest woman hand me a cup of water, check on me and have a little chat. She was an angel. I'm not even sure if she was actually there or if I was just seeing a heavenly figure for comfort. She told me about her first visit to the clinic and that she went on to miscarry. However she has a 4 year old daughter and a 9 month old son (he is half of a set of twins, however his brother passed on on day 8, totally devastating).
In light of this news, all of a sudden the worse didn't seem that dreadful, don't get me wrong, it's sad and causes endless upset but it isn't comparable to carrying to full term, giving birth and then losing them. I'm not sure what is.
Eventually my scan came up. The Gynaecologist was very nice. She took forever up there and I thought I was going to be presented with a full "holiday pictures slideshow" when she was done.
However I was met with a confused, puzzled look.
Gynaecologist "Firstly, I thought this might be your sack"
I stare at a screen of grey fuzz and see a distant circular thing...
Gynaecologist "Then after much searching (she didn't say this but I felt that she should have), I found this which I'm sure is your sack. I'm terribly sorry but it looks like a miscarriage to me. I can see blood next to (she may have said 'in', but I can not remember) the sack. I'm not 100% sure and would like a second opinion, do you mind waiting while I speak with a colleague".
4 days pass by (more like 3 minutes but you know how slowly time goes when you're eating every finger nail and seeing your foetus slip from your grasp).
Gynaecologist reenters room
Gynaecologist "I'm sorry but my second opinion agrees with me, it looks as though you are at the start of a miscarriage. I would like to order some blood tests to make sure and have you come back next week, so I can check on you"
I start to feel like Frankenstein's monster.
Off I walk back to the waiting room to await my blood tests. Eventually I get called. I am chatting / half crying to the nurse and she's lovely with her thick Eastern European accent. I ask if I will be classified as a 'high risk' pregnancy next time, "oh no, not until you've had three". THREE??? Say 'le fuck' what?!
Post the blood tests I walk out of St Thomas's half in a daze, semi crying, semi crazed, unsure of what or how to feel. I call Rowan and confirm everything to him. I feel shit, I insisted he didn't come along (as I didn't want to bother him) and all I've caused is for him to have no idea what is going on and to not be involved. Not fair Pipsywoo, not fair.
My blood tests came back and they confirmed that I still had pregnancy hormones in my blood. Which means they have no idea what is going on and I've now got to go back next Monday for a follow up scan. Should I miscarry in the mean time, I need to notify them and potentially return sooner.
So here I am. 36 hours later...no heavy bleeds, no particularly bad aches from "that" area and my boobs still ache. I have no idea what on earth is / will go on over the next 6 days. It is just another day / week in the life of a pregnant woman - the great waiting game!