Evacuation

Friday morning saw myself and Rowan heading to St. Thomas's hospital to have the grim procedure of my Molar Evacuation. The day patient nurses and staff were all lovely (apart from the receptionist who couldn't raise a smile if her life depended on in). I tried to remain cheery but it is a difficult thing to do in light of what was to come.

I cracked the joke about shamefully wearing the same outfit as everyone else, the only people who raised a smile were the nurses, I fear all the other patients were extremely nervous, understandably. All in all I was there for about three hours, knocked out for approximately one hour. And then it was all over and I was no longer pregnant, just another statistic. Now I have to wait for two weeks and call a random number on a Wednesday between 2-4pm only, it feels like something out of James Bond, I wonder if the page with the details on them will burn once the call is complete.

The call should confirm whether it was a 'complete' or 'partial' molar, by then I should also know if my body has been drained of all HCG hormones or if the procedure (which is performed blindly) removed everything; there is no guarantee and the remains may continue to grow, resulting in a second procedure, which is all terribly fucked up and annoying.

We also can not start or continue to try to get pregnant until everything is at nil, as if waiting is my best past time and something that I truly excel at with ease and grace.

In other news, all of my temping has finished so I am once again unemployed and not getting paid. E.G. skint! Tomorrow I start the boring process of job hunting and trying to prostitute myself out to the highest bidder, I'm sure you can tell that I am not looking forward to it. Why can I not get paid to sit at home watching films / TV, while crocheting?!

We have started to sort out our garden again, for a second time. The first time round a bastard squirrel ate all of the seeds (and did so like a bloody ninja for at least a month), this time round we have skipped the gestation period and bought pre-grown herbs and flowers. We even took pity on two dying house plants for a whole 50p each, although my green fingers are not green in the slightest.

I've purposefully bought some self-drip feeders, so that they don't all automatically die as soon as I get distracted...we shall see, a little like we shall see what the phone call in two weeks, my next lot of blood tests and all of these jobs I apply for bring. Being a grown up is so dull and painfully slow at times.