Yesterday was rather a trial to the nerves. I felt crampy and was spotting (pink and brown) during the day, but by the time I got home from work (where, incidentally, I was not concentrating) I, err, wasn’t. And I felt a little sick and I still had the olfactory powers of a blood-hound (walking home, my poor nose was screaming ‘garbage! Cat pee! Fried chicken! Salad-dressing! Cut grass! Dead leaves! Cigarettes! Deodorant and sweat! Curry (bleagh)! More garbage! Double bleagh!’ as I passed each front door).
So, I made a point of not drinking much and not using the loo for a few hours, and then, feeling nicely concentrated, I unwrapped a F.irst Res.ponse Early Result test (carefully crafted from 24-carat gold and seed-pearls, given the price). And then I sat and watched it. And within two minutes, a faint second line was forming.
Aha!
I took the stick to H, who was quietly minding his own business – in fact, I think he was tidying the kitchen. H looked at the stick. H looked at me. H took the stick and peered hard at it.
‘How long ago did you use this?’ he asked. For, oh, he is wise in the ways of the pee-stick now.
‘Less than three minutes.’
Cue hugging each other in a sort of trembling delighted panic.
And then, because we are almighty geeks, H photographed the Golden Pee-stick so I could blog about it.
And then, and then, in the small hours of the night, the cramping and the spotting (now red, damn it, damn it, damn it) returned. And have not gone away. Bitter McTwisted now feels perfectly justified in her extremely bad attitude to the whole saga. I don’t know what she’s done with the Positive Thinking Fairy, but all I’ve seen of her since last night is a crumpled spangle and three blue feathers.
Anyway. Plan for the day. Do not go to work (because seriously. Miscarrying in a toilet cubicle at work? I do not think so). Go and visit the GP – not because I think medical science can do anything at all one way or another, but because it’s be nice to know when to panic and why, and also, to get a sick note because seriously, if this goes tits up I am going to need some time off work because I will be having a melt-down. Also, I’d like to know what painkillers I can take when, in case this gets really ugly. Come home. Chew nails to bone. Try not to keep batting my lovely internet people about the head with panicky gloomy updates on the half-hour.
Hope. Which is the closest an atheist can get to prayer.
Oh wow. Wow, wow.
What a cliffhanger.
This not knowing, is extremely hard on the nerves.
Good idea on GP. Yes.
Feel free to update on half-hour, if you like. We are here.
Hugs in meantime. Willing all to be well.
xx
Oh petal, I don’t know what to say. I’ve been there in chemical pregnancy hell a couple of times myself, and it ain’t pretty.
We’re all here for you. Hugs xx
Fuck.
Half hourly updates PLEASE.
“all I’ve seen of her since last night is a crumpled spangle and three blue feathers.” – Quote of the year!
Limbo sucks.
Please keep us updated.
I’m praying.
:/ hanging there with you! Go away red!!!!
x
ARSE. Red spotting is Not What We Want At All, damn it.
Perhaps an ultrasound could tell you something? I hope?
I’ve also been in the chemical pregnancy hell too…I hope you don’t have to make a visit there.
crap crap crap crap. ultrasound? blood test? emergency acupuncture??
thinking good thoughts.
We’re currently stuck at Hospital after referral from GP. Been here about 3 (going on 30) hours. May has had internal scan, which produced much muttering and even the chief consultant was brought in to have a look. The words “empty”, “can’t see anything”, “ectopic” & “fibroids” were used more often than we cared for. Enough pictures printed ou to open a gallery then more waiting around. Now seen a senior Gynae, who has taken full history (where do they store all the 100 or so copies they have of this sad story they must have by now!).
We’re waiting for results from blood work, strong painkillers (‘coco’, I think) and whether there is a spare bed for overnight observation.
We are not amused. Will update again later.
Hoping for you as well.
For what it’s worth, not that it has fuck-all to do with you or your outcome, I had cramping and on-and-off RED bleeding during two of three pregnancies that ultimately resulted in take-home babies. In one case it even went on for a solid two weeks; not as much blood as a period but enough that I needed to wear a pad. So there you have it, anecdotal evidence that cramping and red blood are not ALWAYS harbingers of doom. Hopefully you get some answers as to what is going on today and they are GOOD ones. I’ll be fretting over you until you let us know, either here or on Twitter.
Just saw H’s update, OH FOR FUCK’S SAKE!!! Arse. BALLS! Please keep letting us know. I’m hoping there’s still some way that this will all be okay, but most importantly that May is alright and they take good care of her. Because really, ENOUGH.
H, thank you for the update. No words, just silent worry from both of us.
B/Z
Thanks for updating us, H. Will continue to hope as hard as I can until further notice.
Oh, how awful! H, please keep us updated. I’m so sorry this is happening. I, too, had bright red bleeding that was implantation, but no cramping involved. I’m knocking on everything wooden in my house, and crossing every appendage I’m capable of. Good luck!
May and H,
I don’t know if this helps at all but here in the States we can often not see anything on the scans at this stage, as it is just too early and I have held many a hand during them in my former life as a Labor and Delivery Nurse, so not seeing anything is not as terrible as it sounds. It is simply too early in many, many cases. I continue to keep you both in my thoughts for the best of outcomes.
For fucks sake.
Best wishes to you both.
damnit – my feedreader is out of date!!! I am so sorry for my earlier wooohooo comment – caution is always appreciated!!! Still got all fingers and toes crossed for you!
Keeping everything possible crossed for a good outcome. I’m so sorry that you are both going through this hell.
Hoping all is going ok at the hospital and that you are coming out on the good side of all possible stats and outcomes.
You mean I still can’t breath. I’m really, really hoping…
I have to agree that it seems way too early to see anything on an ultrasound. Glad they are doing bloodwork; when I was in similar situations it was very helpful to know what the hcg was doing.
Sending you best wishes.