So I think we’ve established the universe is deaf. No break forthcoming.
Last night I was woken quite suddenly by something way beyond the previous gushing. Let’s call it dexter episode 3, because it kind of looked like an episode of dexter . Let’s just say this took me ever so slightly beyond my ability to cope. 2 bleeds in 48 hours? Yeah, I’m getting hysterical now.
TMI WARNING: It was like someone turned a fire hose on. It was actually spraying. For some reason, I thought the bleeds could not get worse.
It was 1:30 in the morning, and after scrabbling around for supplies I just started flipping out. Hub in boots was really calming. I was seriously considering hospital. I just kept saying “this it it. It’s over”.
The bleeding calmed quicker than I did, and I decided to stay put & managed to sleep a few hours til 5:30.
After a bit of clock watching I messaged my sister for advice, then tried to rouse hub in boots for work. He firmly established there was NO WAY he was leaving me today.
My sis suggested I wait til 8 when the ob opens, then ring and see. I drifted off for another hour .
Finally I called and the midwife answered. Told her what had happened. “well that’s bullshit. You’ve done what we said about bed rest . That’s enough for you to deal with. You need to come in here today, don’t you think? Can we call it 9:45?”
She was really human.
So we ran around mentally, getting ready, and hub in boots kindly suggested I shower (good call), and in 15 minutes we scarpered.
The traffic was horrid. On the way I updated the mums and other VIPs . My mum got a bit upset on the phone, but I just couldn’t take it on board.
I felt horrible. I didn’t know if I was going to vomit, or pass out, or just deflate, like a balloon. This continued all the way to town.
Thankfully I had looked up the car park next door, and we dumped the car with the valet.
The midwife’s first words were: “you look horrible “. Didn’t I know it. She took the details of the last two bleeds, and then we waited. It felt like an eternity, staring out the windows at the harbour, thinking about what might be about to happen. I kept thinking of the day my father died. I decided today may actually be worse.
The ob came in and today he kind of had a different look. Asked briefly about the bleed then got me up for the ultrasound. It was weird. He sort of positioned himself so he was really close to my body, pressed up against me, touching my arm , almost like he was ready to block the view of the screen if need be. He even asked a couple of times “you all right?”. It was weirdly comforting. And then it was on.
It was only half a second til he said, in that deep monotone “your baby is still alive. Ok? It’s still alive”. He then let us hear the heartbeat. Gumby was still, today, but the heartbeat sounded really really nice. Less greyhound, a bit more human.
“we’re going to need to do a vaginal scan today, to see the clot. Is that ok? Has anyone looked with a speculum?”
They had, in the hospital. But that was a lifetime ago. I told him I knew that was on the cards today . Possible miscarriage, you need the clearest picture possible . I get it. Thank you hub in boots for the shower suggestion.
It wasn’t too bad. Cervix long and closed . Music to my ears. He managed the magic wand deftly and unobtrusively.
The clot came up on the screen. The thin crescent had turned into a large black blob. “is it bigger?”
“god yeah . It’s 20ml now. It was, what, 7 the other day?”
Yep. What a bugger.
He went hunting for the blood vessel on the uterine wall that is causing all the trouble, but couldn’t find it.
He’s bloody good in a crisis. It’s like his head went “geez. They may be fucked. Note to self: bring bedside manner today”. Seriously he could not have been better.
He even handed me back my pants when he was done!
I had no questions today. 2-4 more weeks total bed rest . Move the progesterone doses south- yeah let’s not go there. Do screening Monday . Fuck I hope we’re low risk. Hope we get it stable by 16 weeks. There are no answers. No why’s. No what ifs. There is only right now , 11 weeks 5 days, heartbeat.
Part of me wanted it to be over today. It sounds wrong, but The pressure of this is hard to sustain. Part of me wanted no heartbeat. Just an end to this suffering . To this exquisite torture.
It is exquisite, because every glimpse of gumby is precious beyond words. Every moment when you think the worst and see the best, it is a perfect, special moment . It is miraculous. I would give anything just to make 12 weeks on Saturday . To make 13 weeks and 2nd trimester on feb 11.
I don’t think I need words to explain why it is torture. But knowing it may be another 4,or 6, or more weeks and then a miscarriage via my dirty great big clot ? Talk about cruel and unusual punishment . I need orange overalls. I’m in my own personal Guantanamo.
At home has been the pragmatic: calling work to sort out leave (hate new boss), emailing people i haven’t told, “coming out” on Facebook, updating others. I feel sort of ok. We packed hub in boots off to AFL training to clear his head, and my sister came over to hang out n cook.
I did a laying down Skype session with the counsellor at lunch. She was brilliant, but even she was lost for words at times given our situation. I guess it feels good just to be able to tell your story, to give witness to the shitfulness of it. To hear someone professional say it’s ok to feel completely beyond your ability to cope and slightly hysterical.
I’m sticking to the simple things. Tea. Spaghetti and meatballs. Clean pants. Not spouting blood like a fountain . I don’t ask for much.
Cross your fingers I get a ‘dexter scene free’ deep sleep tonight. And blow us a wish for 12 weeks on Saturday. Send some magic dissolving dust to foof away my giant blood clot. Some patience and energy pills to hub in boots. And a prayer for gumby.