Not in a good way

Item – At some point this morning I found myself in a decided attitude of mope and dejection. My back hurt, I felt almost catatonically tired. Everything seemed grey and tedious. What the hell, I asked myself, is the matter with you, May? Anyone would think you were depressed. And then, with a heart-stopping jolt, I remembered. I’m miscarrying. Very, very slowly. Ah, well, that explains the foul mood and could my heart stop thumping quite so fucking painfully now, please?

Item – Yesterday H and I went for a walk, to take advantage of the brief glimpse of sunshine. I felt quite well while walking, and almost happy. I have no idea therefore why I spent the evening feeling like I’d been kicked in the sacrum by a passing cart-horse. H ended up by getting out of bed after midnight to make me a hot-water-bottle. I wasn’t very gracious to him about it neither.

Item – And I had a fight with H on Saturday, magnifying one small snitty remark on his behalf into a gigantic Woe Is Me My Life Is Fail melodrama. Oh, but I dislike myself intensely at the moment.

Item – I went to see the GP, to discuss important matters such as Going Back to Work, and Where The Hell Is My Follow-Up Appointment With The ACU or Recurrent Miscarriage Clinic Because I Have Frequent Flyer Miles Here, People. I managed to bag an appointment with Doc Tashless, who was truly upset to see me again. The poor man has been treating me since I was That Girl Whose Period Wouldn’t Stop, more than three years ago. And now I’ve morphed through That Girl Who Can’t Get Pregnant into That Girl Who Can’t Stay Pregnant. It sucks. Doc Tashless thinks it sucks. Doc Tashless had a medical student sitting in with him, and explained to said student why it sucks, without me having to refresh his memory of any of it. I ❤ Doc Tashless.

Item – Doc Tashless was perfectly happy to sign me off work until February, but I gave him a wild-eyed look and said that really, I'd be happier pretending everything was normal, going stir-crazy etc., so he signed me off until next Monday, on the sole condition that I promised my work-place were understanding and wouldn't put much pressure on me and I was to flounce home on any provocation at all with his blessing.

Item – Doc Tashless was disgusted that the RCM hadn't got back to me yet. Dis. Gusted. I didn't even have my blood test results yet? Good heavens, they were taken well over a month ago. So he promised me he'd write to them in the strictest terms. And muttered something under his breath about 'simple aspirin' and 'preventable' which I chose not to listen to because all this sympathy and being taken seriously was actually giving me a panic attack and the whole subject of any of this being preventable if the RCM had been a little more organized [Warning! Train of thought heading to Bad Place! Abort! Abort! Abort]

Item – And having got through the social niceties of extracting myself from the consulting room, I ran home. I ended up sitting on the stairs, heart banging like a trip-hammer, in floods of tears and trying desperately to stop fucking crying right now this minute.

Item – Yeah, I’m so ready to go back to work.

Item – Case in point: Anyone, under any circumstance short of imminent death, complaining about pregnancy symptoms or how much they dislike being pregnant, can just fuck off and play in traffic. Especially those members of the Mummy Club that had taken over the doctor’s waiting room, complete at least one snot-smeared spawn each. The Positive Thinking Fairy knows damn well that pregnancy is a hard, uncomfortable, anxious time ending in mucho pain and drama and a bazillion more responsibilities and no sleep. The Positive Thinking Fairy has gone to the Algarve for a few weeks and is merely nagging me by post-card. Bitter McTwisted is the captain of May and she says, fuck OFF and play in traffic.

Item – Lower back still painful, with intermittent ‘hello, your period is due, ooh, tomorrow?’ cramps and occasional light spotting. It would be nice if this didn’t last all the way until my ‘period’ (were I going to have one) would be ‘due’, in a couple of weeks time.

Item – I peed on a stick this morning, to match the one I peed on the day of the last beta (oops, I forgot to mention that before. Sorry). Do I need to explain to any of you why I did this? Thought not. Anyway, both sticks, with sensitivities of, I think, 25 mIU, show identical, ghostly pink second lines. Still piddling out ridiculously small amounts of HCG then. Zombryo lurches on.

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18 responses to “Not in a good way

  • Illanare

    Oh sweetie, this all just sucks beyond suckage. And – wanting the “pity me I’m pregnant” brigade to play in traffic? Right there with you.

    Take care of you.

  • arminta

    Oh sweetie. My heart aches for you and H. If I could fly to England just to hug you and beat mercilessly the asshats at RCM, I so would.

    *Love and Hugs*

  • Jo

    Thank God for Dr. T. Hugs to you and H.

  • a

    Sigh. Work might at least distract you for a few hours a day…

  • Noelle

    First, I just want to say how sorry I am that you are going through this. I can feel your pain in your posts.

    Second, I wanted to thank you for allowing me to read your posts. I am currently going through my second miscarriage and waiting to miscarry as well. I have spend quite a while reading your posts, and you have made this journey a little bit easier. To know that someone else is suffering alongside you is comforting. I am not happy that you are suffering of course, but reading your posts make me feel not quite so alone.

    Thank you for allowing me to go on this journey for you. Thank you for posting your thoughts and experiences for the world to see. Know that you are helping someone here in California tremendously.

  • Heather

    Thinking of you guys. YAY for Dr T!

  • lizee

    dear god may, this is just too, too gross. i don’t know how you are expected to endure. too much pain, it comes pouring through the posts.

    because i am old, really fucking old, i am going to ask a question i know i should not. why in the hell don’t they just do a d&c? obviously that is no longer the proper protocol, but shit, they leave you in limbo, limbo that includes cramping and bleeding. (they forgot their theology .. limbo doesn’t include pain)

    all i can say to you and to h….. hang in there …. this too shall pass …. the physical part anyway. i admire you so much.

    lizee

  • QoB

    adding the only thing I feel qualified to comment on:
    you are perfectly entitled to cry in your own house while living through a time that is very sad indeed.
    Please don’t spend your energy stopping yourself from crying if you want to and need to.
    We are all here with tissues.

  • Katie

    I ❤ Doc Tashless too.

    (GPs tend to think that aspirin will work – but my reading of the evidence is it doesn't work any better than placebo – if you can get to that stage, repeated scans do – well, unless you're me)

  • Betty M

    Hope Doc Tashless can galvanise the RMC into action for you.

  • Solnushka

    Go Dr Tashless. Glad you got to see him.

    As for the rest, I think thinking dark thoughts about large sections of the population and crying in the comfort of your own home are perfectly reasonable. As are being snitty and miserable. There are times when a bit of melodrama is the only sane reaction.

    I’m so sorry you have to go though this though. The universe sucks.

  • Jem

    Oh, May, sweet, May. You are not alone in the “Girl who can’t stay pregnant” category. Unfortunately. Not that misery loves company. I’m with you about hating women who complain about pregnancy symptoms. They suck.

  • manapan

    You have every right to cry in your own home. In public as well, if you feel like it. Hugs to you both.

    I hope Doc Tashless can get that clinic back in line for you. The wait time is ridiculous. Also, I wouldn’t worry about the “preventable aspirin” remark if I were you. I’ve been reading a lot of information on the therapies and it seems that even if the problem is helped by aspirin, you likely also need heparin since one crosses the placenta and the other does not.

    I think programming a game like Frogger, but with whiny pregnant women instead of the frog, could be a lot of dark, awful fun.

  • Valery

    So sorry to hear about a fight creeping in. Hope the moment of disliking yourself has passed as well. scary that my comment on Saturday for H was about this, hope he and you can recognise it as a symptom of grief. Would it then count as dealing with grief?

    Is it naive to think that spotting now will prevent a flood later?
    (Sorry for letting my PT fairy talk to you. I should send her away to make hot chocolate and hot water bottles) Please accept my cashmere-clad shoulder to cry on.

  • Twangy

    Hope Dr Tashless gives the RCM a bollocking in his letter. This is HELL ENOUGH for our lovely friend May, without being left in the lurch by you lot, RMC!
    It’s enraging.

    I am sorry you are in this awful limbo May. I wish I could do something. *I* could cry – I can’t imagine you and H.
    xx

  • Twangy

    RCM, RMC, am angry with them whichever way they have it.
    Hmmmm.

  • Jane

    I’m glad to hear you have an understanding doctor in the middle of all this. Think it mightn’t be such a bad idea to get written out of work for another week or so. So sorry you are going through this. Life is just crap sometimes. And I am totally with B McT. They can all fuck off and play in traffic.

  • Hairy Farmer Family

    I want to pickle & preserve Doc Tashless to display at medical schools around the world; he is what GPs should aspire to. His muttering about simple aspirin and preventable gives me an awful sinking feeling.

    Captain Bitter McTwisted must have her rule for now. She is Entitled, I fear, to have things her way for a time. Positive Thinking Fairy is… is… she is recharging her batteries, that’s what she’s doing. Yes. Recuperating. Girding her loins to carry you through the slew of appointments that are going to Sort This The Fuck Out and Shed Lots Of Light.

    I have been getting confused – not having seen many horror movies – between zombies and mummies. Hence I pictured zombryo lurching complete with trailing bandages. I am probably quite odd.

    May, I do ache for your pain so horribly. I’m back wishing for that bloody magic wand again.

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