Twisted Ovaries

The Saturday I Found God

The bleeding went away for most of the day yesterday, but came back last night with a vengeance.

It also went from brown to reddish-brown.

I went to bed knowing there was nothing I could do.

I rang our 24-hour emergency line for advice this morning, as the spotting continued (but it had gone back to brown). I rang because I had period-like cramps. Most of all I rang because there were tiny clots on the paper.

The doctor was kind-far kinder than my own fertility clinic and much more supportive. I was ordered to bed rest and told that as it's a 3-day weekend no one could do anything for me until Tuesday. I was told to keep my feet up and, if the spotting or pain got worse, to go to A&E. That I could be losing one or both embryos, that it could be nothing. The clots could simply be old blood trapped in mucus or it could be the last song on party night.

In the end, Aidan came through. He found a walk-in clinc in a city nearby. We went there, and while waiting in line I had to dash to the toilet to be sick. When I walked out all eyes were on me and Aidan explained that the NHS hospitals aren't always well-built, that the entire waiting room had just been treated to the sound of every retch I suffered. I didn't know if I was throwing up due to car sickness or morning sickness, but I hoped for the latter.

The clinic couldn't help us but referred us to a nearby A&E whose hospital is also one of the larger maternity hospitals in our area.

It happened fast-the triage nurse took pity on us and, despite the room full of lads with sprained ankles and cut thumbs, we were steered at once to a gynae room. Someone came in and took blood (which hurt more than any blood draw I've ever had, ever). The doctor came in-a very kind, very reassuring Indian man with an easy voice and calm eyes. We explained the problem-the spotting, the cramping, that this was IVF #4, that maybe it's nothing, maybe we're over-reacting, probably there's nothing they can do, but please-an answer would at least help me stop crying and start dealing. He asked me for a urine sample and said he'd ask the ultrasound unit to open up specially for us, to run a scan, to see if anything could be seen. He told me that it was possible I was miscarrying, that there are basically three types of miscarriage. He also told me it was possible it was nothing, that it was one embryo jumping ship, that it could be old blood from a period or the transfer procedure.

I went to do the urine sample.

When I wiped, the spotting was much heavier than it had been and back to reddish-brown in color.

I walked back into the exam room and fell apart. The nice doctor came back and walked us to the scanning area himself. He wished us luck. He told us that no matter what, we are to come back Tuesday morning for a follow-up scan and more bloodwork. He was the nicest doctor I have ever been to.

We thanked him repeatedly.

The scanning nurse came up to us and told me to empty my bladder again and she apologized, she was not an antenatal scanner, so if she was unable to see anything it might not mean it was all gone to hell, they'd have to see what the scan showed Tuesday. She apologized for not being an antenatal specialist, but hoped in some way that she could give us some kind of peace of mind. We thanked her for trying.

I went into the toilet, peed, and looked up at the skylights and the falling rain. I cried and shook and begged for anyone to listen, anywhere, and just make this ok. I made bargains. I pleaded. I found in that moment I would do anything to make this right, to keep this going, to never take for granted for one second the fact that this had finally worked.

We waited for a while for the scanner to be set up-the scanning was done on a gynae ward, which was only half-full of elderly women. When they called us in I was shaky and scared. Aidan (who has been my rock all morning-thank you, baby, I love you) looked worried. The technician told us she'd look around first and then tell us what she saw.

The good news is there was no obvious reason for bleeding-everything was inside of the uterus and she couldn't see any evidence of hemotoma inside or outside of the uterus or around the cervix. She did more scanning and took measurements, muttering to herself and making copious prints. We asked questions. I cried.

And in the end, I am still on bed rest until Tuesday. They can't tell us why I am spotting, but the spotting and the cramping is worrying so taking it easy and monitoring are on the cards. There were no heartbeats to measure because it's still too early based on the measurements she took. But everything looks ok in there, she said. If I were miscarrying, things would look differently. Currently, it all looks very good, very positive. It's still early days and I am still going to be watching TV for three days until we go back Tuesday morning, but we are still currently in the safe zone.

When she gave us the news, I cried even harder.

There, in the middle of the screen, was this perfect embryo, embedded into the uterus in a perfect sac, and measuring the perfect size for its age.

I am still pregnant.

And it is just the one.

Back to the couch for me now.

Posted by Vanessa at August 26, 2006 03:06 PM | TrackBack