Well here goes bed rest, day 2. Day 1 wasn’t too bad, but the best thing was an amazing night’s sleep. I thought I may struggle to sleep, after doing sweet FA all day, but my body feels worn out and I slept better than I have in a week.
I tried to structure my day to make it more bearable. In the morning I jumped up (ok, maybe it was more like hobbled out) after Hub-in-boots left, having given me fruit and cereal in bed. I had a shower, got changed, got my lollies
(the progesterone pessaries are wrapped in pink foil, they look like an exciting sweet), and was back in bed In half an hour.
I then pissed about on my iPhone and read (Gabriel Garcia Marquez and I are still in a titanic struggle)and tried to nap when I got panicky, until just before 1. And then, crazy days, I moved to the couch. Oh the madness. I whacked the cricket on as background noise and lay there after my healthy lunch, and read.
Thankfully my sister and my niece came over with my nieces niece , a funny little three year old girl, to break up the afternoon, complete with my dictatorial sms’d shopping list. They wandered in and out of the place and fished off the jetty. Kept me amused. Wasn’t long after that that hub in boots got home.
Hub in boots came home, and brought me two sets of new pjs, that not only fit perfectly but were really comfy. Very very thoughtful. And flowers. He also cooked a lovely dinner. He still seems a bit overwhelmed, and I think he can’t figure out what to do about AFL this weekend. He has a 3 day away conference. I think his thing is, he really wants and needs to go, and he needs to escape from this situation for a while, but what if something really bad happens, and he’s not here? What happens is I go to hospital, and he gets a flight back. We can burn that bridge if we get to it.
Today I was supposed to go and see the counsellor at ivf. I made the appointment Monday , as I figured with the weekend’s events I’d need a debrief. I was planning on breaking curfew for it, and driving the 10 minutes over there, but yesterday decided that was a bad idea. I’ve changed it to a phone session now.
My head alternates between totally cool, really stressed and worried, and hopeful. When it’s stressed I have to work hard to distract myself quickly , or I get caught in a catastrophising loop (what’s that cramp? Oh geez we’re gonna miscarry. I know it. And now we’ve wasted four months. And we’ve lost the baby, and I liked the baby!. And I’m 40. I’ll be 41. And my fertility is dropping. And we’ll end up with no kids. And the frozen embryos won’t work. And we’ll have to go through all the waiting again. And I’ll end up with depression and…..). Yeah you get the picture.
This morning’s obsession is I need to change obstetricians . He’s an asshole. I trust him, medically, but he does not treat me as a person who wishes to be informed about my own care. I have decided to postpone this decision until after the week 12 screening tests, assuming we make it that far. After all, given its getting on in weeks, it may be that no one else can fit us in, anyway. I just want someone who sees me as a person, who acknowledges my emotional and intellectual experience of pregnancy as being part of the overall medical picture. But like I said, now is not the time to be shopping around, and postponing the worry is a pretty effective strategy usually.
My other worry is the week 12 glucose tolerance test. My appt with my endocrinologist is on the 7th of feb, so the test must be a few days before. I do not want to put my body and my baby thru the GTT at this point in time. It is, after all, a challenge test, designed to test limits. So I need to call his offices today and get that one sorted.
I’m still having spotting, off and on, and cramping, off and on, but it’s pretty muscular, not usually period pain like. Trying to ignore it all and not overanalyse.
Boring blog posts this week, I’m afraid, but I’m trying to avoid any more dramatic events, and emptying my head onto a page helps.