This Monday, I am in another state of disbelief... and in asking myself "how did I get here, how did this happen?" one plausible answer seems to be... I am cursed.
Here is the run down of events...
Looking back, I was in good spirits all week. It was my birthday a few days ago on on the Saturday- the 11th, and I decided to organise a few get togethers - a dinner Friday night with family, and a brunch on my birthday with close friends. And Sunday, I also had a baby shower with a very close old friend who was actually doing some rounds of IVF the same time as me. I felt good about attending this shower, with my recent news of pregnancy.
So we were due to have our seven week scan on Wednesday. I was really cross because we had to reschedule it to Friday, the clinic had called to say they had overbooked this week. I was then in a bit of a flap complaining about my fertility doctor and trying to find a new doctor to deliver the baby. I wasn't having much luck there either as the couple doctors I looked into were due to go on leave around the due date.
Anyway I came around to the idea of scan on Friday. Yes... That works. I get my scan, then my nice family dinner and my nice weekend ahead. I will be all abundant and pregnant and happy and in a celebratory mood.
Thursday night, ping, middle of the night- bolt up right, not able to sleep. Not sure what was going on. I was not feeling overly anxious... but strangely I felt sad and weepy.
Exhausted Friday morning. But excited to get the scan.
So we are at the clinic, Dr is asking which hospital we want to have the baby, and introduced us to a doctor who we can go with for the delivery... (He times this introduction well, with me pants down while the new guy walks in to shake my hand... such is the style of my current FS)
Okay that doctor issue is sorted now... time for this exciting scan.
Sitting there ... waiting, with the "wand" up me. Dr is looking at the screen. I'm not seeing much.
His face is not happy.
He takes out the wand. He takes my hand., Takes my partners hand. Sorry. There's no baby.
I am sure we looked like ghosts or something. I recall just a feeling of utter absence so I am sure my facial expression was also vacant. We had to go get blood tests to check the HCG level... I got the test, go home. Still blank but anxious too, because there's the possibility of ectopic.
Next thing I hear the results of the blood test from nurse on the phone- the HCG is up around 400, so there IS a chance it is ectopic. I need to go in to hospital ASAP to get a laparoscopy, and D&C... So back to the hospital we go.
All the plans are cancelled.
I don't understand what the hell has happened.
I'm reading crappy gossip magazines... I'm crying and having some deep meaningful conversation with an anaesthetist, who was very nice, and had been through it with his wife a number of times.
la la la... Happy birthday to me...
The following days of moping were bad enough.. My partner and I took Monday off work to have an extra day to recoup..
But then, ever since the procedure I kept having these periodic bouts of horrible pain and gastro symptoms... and then Sunday night I am up for hours in the middle of the night in intense pain and diarrhea and blood coming out of me, so I returned to hospital again today. Not sure exactly what caused it but probably the medication that I was taking after surgery - voltaren - has a reputation for hurting the digestive system. now I need to go plan a colonoscopy, oh joy! I'm back home, stopped taking the Voltaren, and taking tomorrow off. Colonoscopy will wait till another day.
...Getting there with the physical recovery... next it's the emotional...
When things go wrong they just seem to really go wrong.
Is it REALLY true that people can just have sex and get pregnant and have a baby 9 months later? Is that really something that happens to people?