Closure

Everything comes to an end. On Friday night my pregnancy came to an abrupt end and today my blog comes to an end. Not quite so abrupt but an end all the same.

I reached 6 weeks pregnant last weekend and for anyone following my story, that means I finally got my GP referral to enable me to go for an early ultrasound scan.

I was still bleeding on and off, pretty much light though, and I’d convinced myself through internet research it was fairly normal spotting. I thought when I went for my scan I’d see a little bean and be told there was nothing to worry about.

How wrong I was.

I went for my first scan last Saturday afternoon. I was told there wasn’t any evidence of an embryo in the uterus but there was a 2cm mass near my left ovary. I had probably miscarried but was advised to go to A&E for blood tests that day just to check it out.

Facing up to the reality I had miscarried, I then spent seven hours at the grotty NHS hospital. My scan had been private, through my corporate health insurance, but being the weekend I had no choice but to go back on the NHS trail as I couldn’t wait until the private system woke up again on Monday.

Finally at midnight my first blood test was taken. I was told to return on Monday for a second test and results for both would be known on Tuesday. A second ultrasound scan was booked for Friday just as standard follow up.

Tuesday came and went; Wednesday came and went; finally in the evening of Thursday I found out my blood test results. Over the telephone, the doctor told me it wasn’t an active pregnancy and that I had most likely miscarried. Apparently my HCG levels were dropping but not as dramatically as he would expect. I asked if I should come in for my scan the next day and he agreed, and that a third blood test may also be needed.

On Thursday night I went to bed believing I had miscarried and my scan was merely to check that the mass was a cyst, or Corpus Luteum, as I had been told at the hospital earlier in the week.

How wrong they all were.

My scan on Friday revealed my baby had tripled in size in one week and was now much more identifiable. The scan showed a developing embryo - a baby - in my fallopian tube. I was instantly told not to eat or drink and that I needed surgery. That day.

I was on my own. Husband was at work and I’d dropped Peanut at a friend’s house for a few hours. I was alone, devastated and very scared.

Suddenly my knight in shining armour arrived in the form of a top gynaecology surgeon who happened to specialise in laparoscopy. He made me feel safe; that he would fix me and make everything better. I switched back to a private hospital and he operated on me that very evening.

I came home yesterday. I hurt like hell. The carbon dioxide gas they pump inside you is excruciating, my belly is swollen up like a balloon. I don’t think I’ve had the head space to dwell on what’s happened yet, it comes into my head now and again that I didn’t lose my baby, it was taken out of me. I don’t honestly know how I’ll deal with it all yet, only time will tell.

We can’t try to make another baby for a couple of months, that’s if I’m not too scared to try. There’s nothing like losing one of your fallopian tubes to make you a little averse to running the same risk again!

Right now I want to enjoy Peanut. Savour every ounce of her. Enjoy what I’ve got. Reconnect with my friends. Soak in everyone’s support and care. Realise there are people out there who worry about me. That I’m not all alone. That I don’t have to be brave all the time.

Then maybe one day after all that, I’ll get lucky with another pregnancy. One that hopefully will have a happier ending.

Until then, I wish each and every one of you happiness. And thank each and every one of you for reading my ups and downs over the past few months.

Much love, Agnes. x

Two weeks and counting

This week was pretty rotten but I think maybe, just maybe, I might be climbing over the hill and seeing the rainbow on the other side.

Since my positive test last Sunday morning I've continued to endure moderate and erratic bleeding all week long. I apologise now if this is going to be too much info.

Monday was the loneliest day at work. I had no-one, absolutely no-one, I could talk to about what I was going through. The only person who knew I was trying to get pregnant is on holiday. It was the longest day ever. Each time I went to the loo I would be reminded of my predicament and I would analyse every visit [was it more or less than last time, and if more, what did that mean?]. It’s like I was sitting on a time bomb called miscarriage.

I visited my doctor on Tuesday evening and he told me there wasn’t anything he could do and that, unfortunately for me, I’d found out too early. If and when I reach 6 weeks along I can have an early scan [the heartbeat can be detected at that point] and until then the only thing I can do is play the waiting game. Hmmm.

So, two weeks and counting. On April 2nd I turn 6 weeks pregnant. If I’m still testing positive and bleeding I can go in for an early scan. If I’m still testing positive but no longer bleeding, I can thank my lucky stars and go ahead with normal booking in.

As of this minute, bleeding has been amazingly light light light today so I don’t want to count my chickens but maybe, just maybe, it really has been implant bleeding and maybe, just maybe, it’s coming to an end.

And then there were four

I’m pregnant! Well, at least I hope I still am.

My wee stick this morning showed a very distinct cross - real concrete evidence I am indeed pregnant – however Aunt Flo has been buggering me around so much lately I’m slightly worried nature won’t let me keep hold of it.

She even showed her face for a quick second this morning so I think the best thing I can do is visit my doctor as soon as I can and hopefully he will tell me everything is ok. Then I can get properly excited.

Right now I'm statistically three and a half weeks along so I can’t quite believe I got a positive test so early. I do hope it all works out though. Keep all your fingers crossed for me.

Busy body

Things are beginning to heat up at work so I'm having to rediscover my focus, boo hoo me.

It's been a while since I've had to give a damn, I kind of left my work ethic at the door after Christmas when I had the luxury of a couple of weeks off. Time away from the office made me re-evaluate my priorities and realise how much I wanted to be a stay at home mum.

So now, after 10 weeks of slacking off, I'm beginning to feel tinglings of conscientiousness [or maybe it's guilt?].

Either way I think it's brought on, in part, by the frightening awareness my whole team are about to bugger off on holiday for a couple of weeks, leaving me to lead the whole account with the aid of some temporary support [read: people who won't have a clue what to do and will need everything spelling out].

Which sucks. But at the same time it's good for my 'profile'. God I can't even type the word, that's how much I shy away from office politics!

Oh yeah, and then there's my body.

I've decided my body and I are no longer friends. My weight keeps creeping up even though I've been consciously choosing to eat much better food. Even Peanut asked the other day if there was a 'baby in your tummy?' I told her no, it was just full.

And then, to add insult to injury, Aunt Flo is driving me crazy with her continual visits. Just when you think she's gone, she comes back and pops her head round the door for one extra burst of hello. I have no idea what's going on with her. Suffice to say I am really confused about my cycle, my fertility and everything to do with my chances of conception!

I could be pregnant and her outbursts are being caused by a baby snuggling down inside me; I might be miscarrying and not know it; or I might be neither of the above and simply clueless about my dates this month! Thanks Aunt Flo. Do you think if I hang a 'you're not welcome' sign on my nice new front door she'll read it and take heed?

Must go write my very long list of things to do for tomorrow. Talk to you later.

To blog or not to blog

that is the question.

I’m not sure I should carry on with my blog. Why, you may ask?

Well...

My husband reads my blog, which means I can’t always say everything I would want to say if it really were my journal.

My friend reads my blog, and when we meet up she already knows what’s been going on in my life.

Historically, I’m a quitter. I quit ballet, horse riding and brownies when I was little. I paid a full year at a gym but didn’t go beyond the induction. Actually, I’m such a quitter I'm not sure how I’ve managed to stay married and in my job for the past nine years!

I’m really fighting the urge to quit this right now.

I began to feel as if I spent more time writing about my life than actually living it.

I began to resent feeling compelled to post every night because that’s how I started and I felt any less would look to be slacking.

So. I cut back to every other night, which was better, but I still have the urge to quit.

There are millions of blogs out there and I just don’t think I have enough to say that’s any different.

On the flipside, I think if I were pregnant right now I would be fine as I think it would be really nice to record the whole experience.

I also think if I didn’t work full time I would feel better about posting as it wouldn’t get in the way quite like it does now. Right now we put Peanut to bed, eat dinner and then I sit with the laptop attached to me. It’s not exactly romantic and conducive to baby making if you know what I mean.

And then this morning, because I guess I’ve had a few days to myself, I found myself thinking of things I wanted to say.

Maybe that’s it, maybe I just need to blog without obligation, as Huckdoll would say.

Maybe I need my blog to be for me. Or maybe I quit the race and just enjoy being a part of everyone else’s journey.

Hot topic

We all know I’m not pregnant. We also all know what I think about my belly right now. Unfortunately for me I can’t seem to escape conversation about either of them this week. It’s as if the subject of baby versus belly is following me around! I kid you not.

Yesterday a very brave, very gay man at work asked me if I was having another baby. Does he not know you never ask a girl that question?! Apparently the subject was discussed at the pub the other evening. Do they really have nothing better to talk about than whether I spill over my jeans?

And then today, a good friend at work told me his wife had a dream I was pregnant. I don’t even know his wife but she’s seen my picture and somehow that was enough to cause her to dream about me having a baby.

No surprises when I say I didn’t actually mind the latter conversation as he, for once, wasn’t assuming I already was pregnant. And hey, you never know, what she dreamed just may come true! Imagine the spookiness if I fell pregnant this month, how funny would that be.

I am honestly trying to remedy my belly-without-a-baby scenario. You should have seen all the rabbit food I packed for lunch today. At one point my craving for chocolate was nearly out of control but I hung in there and by the end of the day I was feeling much less bloated, even a tiny weeny bit lean.

In a rather silly move on my part, I just totally buggered all my hard work because husband wanted chicken curry for dinner and I’m now completely stuffed!

Looks like I’ll be wearing another smock tomorrow. Let them talk!

Bad daughter, good daughter

Today is Mother’s Day and it’s one of the main reasons we decided to visit my mum and dad this weekend. Together with it having just been my birthday, it seemed a logical reason to visit this particular weekend, as opposed to any other.

Except I’m a bad daughter.

I forgot to load her card and present into our car and didn’t realise until we were an hour into our journey! I tried my very hardest yesterday to treat her to a new item of clothing to perk her up but nothing seemed to ignite a spark. Even though we did pay for our family meal out last night, nothing really gets past the stupidity of me forgetting her present! Sorry mum.

On the other hand, Peanut is a very, very, very good daughter.

While I was not alone in my absent-mindedness [husband also forgot to pack my present], he was off the hook as I could at least receive my gift from Peanut when we got home.

And what a nice gift it was. I received a huge Cinderella card, plus Series One of Grey’s Anatomy on DVD! She is such a good daughter, nine whole episodes of Justin Chambers and McDreamy!

Between husband’s sport and Peanut’s cbeebies I’m not sure when I’ll get to watch it. Though, if I remember right, husband is out this Wednesday evening so I think a night in with Justin may be on the cards.

Well, he will go out and play football…