7 Mar 2016

Loss

As my due date approaches, I keep thinking about what we lost last year.

We lost a baby last year.

A baby that I would have been a part of our lives by now.

There a few reasons for my not talking about this until now.

I feel guilty calling our loss a baby.

I feel guilty thinking about it because at the time, there was so much shit going on, that I didn't really think about it really being an actual baby until recently.

I feel guilty because people lose so much more, try so much longer, never fall pregnant at all, lose children, get cancer...  the world is a crappy place for lots and lots of people.

I turned 34 on June 3rd.  On June 4th I found out I was pregnant with our second baby.  We had been tracking, trying, testing, counting and hoping for baby number two for 18 months.  I was ecstatic.  It was a Thursday.  Juffin and I couldn't stop smiling.  I called my GP and booked an appointment to confirm but I took 3 tests.  I told a friend at work who was also newly pregnant, excited was an understatement.  The next 9 months stretched out in front me, a February baby, yay!

On Friday morning I was feeling crampy and tired.  Not unusual for the initial stages of pregnancy.  I went out with my Mummy friends in the morning then came home and lay down on the couch. Mushroom was scooting around doing his thing, I was tired, I felt weird, I can't really remember.

Some time that afternoon I went to pee and noticed some spotting.  I just sat there for a minute, did a quick google search and thought, it's ok, totally normal, don't freak out. I sent Juffin a text message, put a pad on and took some paracetamol. I felt like I was getting my period but was trying not to get worried.

As the afternoon went on, I felt worse and worse.  I had a lot of pain in my lower back and the bleeding got heavier.  And brighter.

I called Juffin in tears.  He wanted me to go to the hospital straight away but I was hesitant.  I hate going to the hospital, feeling like I'm wasting people's time, thinking that I'm over-reacting.  To be fair, no-one at the hospital has ever made me feel like this but you know how you get it into your head that you're just being silly?  That's how I felt.  And maybe I just knew that something wasn't right?

That being said, and me being me, I did nothing.  The bleeding got worse, the pain got worse, I was up half the night with stabbing pain in my abdomen and it felt like a hot knife was cutting through me. Except worse.  Juffin again wanted to take me to the hospital but I refused.  I'm not sure what my argument against it was this time but probably something about not wanting to worry the Mushroom, and it being the middle of the night.

In the morning, I went up to my local GP clinic to see if they could shed some light.  I wasn't in anywhere near as much pain as I had been the night before.  Just uncomfortable and achey.  He advised that I was probably having a miscarriage and referred me for a scan.  He did say that because I wasn't doubled over, then it was probably just your run of the mill miscarriage, nothing more.

Let's be clear, I had been in A LOT of pain the night before but it had dulled and I probably didn't convey that clearly to the Doctor.

I got home and called the xray place who told me that I'd require $250 if I wanted my scan today.

$250!!!

I booked the appointment, hung up, and broke down.

Juffin then said for the umpteenth time that he wanted to take me to the fucking hospital.

I finally agreed, and called my Mum.  And cancelled the $250 appointment.

We dropped the Mushroom off to my parents and went to emergency.  Lo and behold, I was taken through to be examined straight away.  It had already been an awful night and so began a long day.

What's your pain level out of 10?
What was the date of your last period?
How much blood did you pass?
How would you describe the pain?
What's your pain level out of 10?

I answered as honestly as I could but at that stage it was just a dull ache.  Maybe a 4, possibly a 5?  I mean there's a grown man crying next to me, I wasn't quite on his pain level!

I had test after test after test.  I had to pee in a cup several times, ultrasounds, no food, poked and prodded, drugs given.  After another scan, an MRI, I told Juffin to go and check on the Mushroom. We'd been there all day.  It was late afternoon and I was worried about him.

Of course after Juffin left the Doctor came back and told me what we'd known all along but were hoping against hope wasn't true.  I had been pregnant, however the egg had imbedded itself on my tube instead of the uterus.  Stupid egg.  As a result, my left tube had ruptured and now I was bleeding internally.  They had to get me into surgery asap.  Apparently this is enormously painful and because I seemed to be coping with this quite well, they had previously ruled out an ectopic.  And here I was thinking I was a wuss.  It also seems ironic that it was the same side that I had a massive ovarian cyst removed the year before.

Reality hits, I lose my baby, I also lose my left tube, and our chances of conceiving are reduced yet again.

It was all too much, I started to cry.  I hadn't cried since we had arrived at the hospital but it all seemed so unfair.  I didn't get to see Juffin before the surgery.  He had taken my phone and all my stuff with him as who knew where I was going to end up.  I called him on the hospital phone to let him know what was happening. I felt so scared.  Before having Mushroom, I'd never had a bloody operation, here I was facing surgery for the third time in as many years!

I remember waking up in recovery and it was hours later.  Like 5 hours.  A nurse was yelling at me asking me what my blood pressure usually is because it's very, very low.  Honestly, who knows what their usual blood pressure is?!  I just wanted to go to sleep but there were nurses shouting and carrying on and then suddenly I was talking to Juffin on the phone but I have no idea what was said.

Total blur, like drinking a whole bottle of vodka but without the bad dancing.

The next morning the nurse told me that my blood pressure had bottomed out completely and they had to give me drugs to bring it back up.... whatever that means.  I have no idea.  Surgeon came in and let me know that my shit was fucked up.  Took forever to clean up and they may have knicked my bowel in the process.

Awesome.

I spent the next two days in hospital.  On liquids, so that they could make sure that my bowel wasn't actually munted. I stared out the window a lot. Slept.  My Mum bought me some books to read and the Juffin forgot my toothbrush.  The Mushroom came to visit and ran amok. At some stage they said I could eat some proper food and took my catheter out.  And then I could go home.

Even now, writing about it 9 months later, it still seems totally unreal.  It had taken months and months for us to fall pregnant and within two days, it was all over. Maybe we weren't meant to have another baby.  Maybe this was my uterus' way of saying enough is enough woman. Maybe we're just too damn old!

Obviously we know that that is all bullshit because I literally had one period after losing that baby and then I was pregnant again.

But I lost a baby.

And I'm hoping against hope that this baby will be okay.

Expanding - 34 Weeks
Mum Singlets for the win!