Invisible Zombie Embryo

Another beautiful, frosty, brightly clear morning in which to drive back to the Mothership Hospital Gynaecology/Early Pregnancy Unit. They treated me for the October miscarriage, so we hoped they’d have all my notes and we’d have to do a lot less Recounting Of The Whole Damn Saga (with tiny violins).

After a surprisingly brief wait, I did get a scan. It was one of the least painful, inner-organ-battering scans I’ve ever had (normally Cute Ute screams her silly head off on being merely nudged with the dildo-cam. Either the technician was very gentle, or I’ve gone numb from the navel down). And we got to wave to Satsuma, who was looking very like a normal ovary (yay!), complete with selection of antral follicles and what might have been a corpus luteum. My fallopian tube was invisible, which is as it should be on a scan (basically, if you can see it, there’s something wrong with it, as it’s really quite skinny and wee when in good health). Cute Ute, however, while showing absolutely no sign of a gestational sac, did have a strange ‘rough’ patch of bobbly weirdness within. The ultrasound technician really didn’t care for the look of this bobbly weirdness at all. She checked and re-checked the dates of my last period (a little over two weeks ago! Yes! I know! Weird! With a capital WEEEEE!), and the date of my last miscarriage, and on being told I hadn’t had a follow-up scan after that one, made a mouth like a disgruntled raisin. Naturally, she had to pass the images on to the consultants and let them make decisions, but she was concerned that it might be, as Melissia said in previous comments, left over from the October miscarriage.

So I mopped the KY jelly off myself and reclothed my lower portions (a blob of KY managed to fall unnoticed down my leg, and got smeared all over the inside of my trousers. This was decidedly icky), and H and I went back out in the waiting room. Which was now absolutely full to bursting, as one lady had brought not only her husband but several teenage sons along with her and was turning the whole event into a kind of family picnic including loud recitals of how many children every one of their numerous aunts had had. I bet the poor woman opposite, in hospital gown and pressure-stockings and looking desperately tired, really really appreciated that.

A nurse opened up the other waiting room for us. I do like the staff at Mothership Gynae/EPU.

After not much of a wait at all, the Staff Nurse collected us to discuss our possibilities and options:

• As I had had that beta of <5 before I was discharged in October, the likelihood of this being More Of The Same Miscarriage was incredibly remote, despite lack of follow-up scan. (Note to self: If Universe insists on a next time (God forbid), refuse to leave building without having follow-up scan, even if this means having to lie on the floor and shriek). Nevertheless it is not absolutely impossible. And neither are rains of frogs. Solution: another beta tomorrow, another scan on Monday.
• Nobody really seems to think that I somehow got pregnant at the beginning of December and the whole thing survived a pretty full-on-downpour period. The lack of a visible gestational sac seems to reassure the Gynae people of this. At nearly 7 weeks pregnant, it ought to be visible even if not viable, and it isn’t. Anyway, solution: another beta tomorrow, another scan on Monday.
• Most plausible scenario so far – I did ovulate on day 7 or 8 of this cycle, I am about 12 dpo now, and for some reason it implanted very quickly and started kicking out HCG sharpish.
• There are therefore two possibilities.
1. The Zombie Embryo (Zombryo?) touched down in the fallopian tube, and is not developing properly, hence stupid non-increasing beta, and hence violent pain and bleeding. Abnormally early pain and bleeding for an ectopic, as the Zombryo is still too tiny to see on a scan, but, you know, I’m weird, and it is possible. Solution: another beta tomorrow, another scan on Monday.
2. The Zombryo is in utero, hence weird bobbly patch that did not shed along with the rest of the lining, but is very borked (hence pain and bleeding), and will fail and die soon. Solution: another beta tomorrow, another scan on Monday.
• Third far-out whackadoodle possibility we are all trying politely to ignore because hoping is revoltingly painful: no-one really knows what beta levels are supposed to do this early on in a pregnancy. After 14 dpo, they’re supposed to double every 48 hours. Before 14 dpo, they’re merely expected to double every 48 hours, but no one has actually checked that that is what they really do, as, usually, not many women know they are pregnant before 14 dpo. It doesn’t look good, what with the bleeding/ stubborn refusal to increase. It looks, in fact, very doom and gloom. Strong desire to take this microscopic shreddle of hope and jump viciously up and down on it for several minutes. Nevertheless, solution: another beta tomorrow, another scan on Monday.

And then we were released home, with instructions to come haring back to A&E if I get more bad pain/fainting/dizziness/cold sweaty clamminess/general weirdness.

And guess what we’re doing tomorrow and Monday.

P.S. They have my blood test results on their computer! But the staff nurse couldn’t discuss them with us, as she didn’t know what exactly they meant, and did not want to give us ‘duff information’. I should have at least asked for a print-out of them anyway. Blast. Try again on Monday.