We’ve been here before

What on earth is the matter with me? I have been going about these past few days in the most almighty snit. And I mean almighty. Even the fragile ailing H (I did mention he had Real ‘Flu, you know, Proper, With Fever And Everything, didn’t I?) got the rough and sharp sides of my tongue briskly round both ears before I stormed off and slammed the bedroom door a few times (oh, please don’t ask what I was yelling about. It’s too pathetically petty for me to ever admit to. So pathetically petty I’m not quite sure I can remember exactly what it was. H was probably breathing intrusively. It quickly segued into ‘you never bloody listen to me, do you? Huh? DO YOU?’ anyway).

And work, oh my God, work. The drama. You’d think I was going there to be skinned alive. It’s a perfectly nice job, I swear. Not vastly stressful or demanding (goes with being really rather badly paid, I suppose), with some intellectual challenge. But I do have to deal with the public, and I do have to deal with my colleagues, and this week, both sets of persons were making me go all ‘Faster Pussycat! Kill! Kill!’ I think I would happily bitch-slap a heavy-weight boxer if I thought it would get me well away from work for a few weeks.

It’s not work, though, is it? It’s everything.

And being persistantly irritable is giving me serious heartburn. I haven’t had heartburn this bad for ages. Damn, but that makes me irritable. Oh, and headaches. I’ve had a headache every day for a sodding week. How on earth can I not be irritable?

On Thursday, I felt crampy. Really crampy. Stabbing cramps, as if Satsuma had found an ice-pick somewhere and was executing a bas-relief on Cute Ute’s side-wall. Ow. And on Friday. I mentioned them to H, who expressed due sympathy, then stared thoughtfully at me. Odd chap, I thought, squishing my breasts to see if they were still sore. Well, yes, but the soreness keeps coming and going.

And today, while rubbing my crampy lower belly, belching like a whale, and wondering where the paracetamol had got to as a little goblin hammered about behind my eyes, pondering the metallic, bloody, persistant taste in my mouth and thinking it made me feel sick, I remembered. The last time I felt exactly like this was when I got pregnant in October. And yes, H had worked it out two days before I did. (He’s not really my husband, you know. He’s my wife).

It’s only 10 dpo. Let’s not get our knickers in a bunch and start shouting ‘test! Test! Test!’. I get enough of that from the Positive Thinking Fairy, who has even bought pom-poms.

Yes, I do have four pregnancy tests left.

But, people, this won’t end well. Either I won’t be pregnant, and I will be disappointed and miserable. Or I will be, but my track record on that is now so appalling… argh. Anyway. The Positive Thinking Fairy may have pom-poms, but Bitter McTwisted has bought the entire stadium on that one. Positive peestick=miscarriage chez May now. Sucks, huh?

If anyone wants me, I’ll be roaming the neighbourhood, necking flat ginger ale and looking for puppies to kick.

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15 responses to “We’ve been here before

  • Blanche

    I’d offer my cat to kick but at the moment he’s being adorable instead of obnoxious, so gets a reprieve, at least for this time.

    On the other topic, well, huh. Go kick those puppies.

  • Hairy Farmer Family

    Oh God, May.
    I’m not quite comprehending the no-test thing, (because as you know, I have compulsive peestick syndrome to a shameful degree) but I COMPLETELY comprehend the whole Oh Fuck, This Is Doomed Either Way, Isn’t It? scenario.
    Oh, MAY! Too far for Hugs! Sorrow!

  • Melissia

    Since it is simply not possible to put you in a safe but therapeutic medically induced coma for the foreseeable future, how about a ride on the Tardis instead? Just a quick skip into the future?
    I would if I could, if only to save you both the strain and the worry. Thinking of you both. I hope that H feels better soon, as do you.

  • Bkwyrm

    Oh, I wish I could gaze into a crystal ball for you – but I sent it to work with my husband so that he could use it as a paperweight. it’s much more useful there than here.
    I’m fresh out of puppies, but we’ve got annoying neighbors you could scream at AND kick. The cost of the plane ticket to Chicago would probably be prohibitive, though.

  • a

    Why don’t you save up that irritability and unleash it on the first doctor who says “Well, at least you know you CAN get pregnant?”

    I will not be telling you that I might have my fingers secretly crossed for a good result this time. That might jinx things.

  • Anonymous

    Hi May,

    I have something on my mind and feel compelled to de-lurk. Given your history of miscarrying, wouldn’t the doctors want to know about a positive test sooner rather than later, so that they can check eveything is ok, and dare I say it, prevent the worst from happening again? Didn’t the experts in the private clinic in London say anything about that?

    I suppose the answer is that if they don’t know what is causing you to miscarry, they wouldn’t know what to test for. (Needless to say I have no medical background whatsoever, so this might all be utter nonsense).

    In any case, my thoughts are with you.

    G

  • manapan

    I hate to be Bitter McTwisted personified, but not testing means you can pretend nothing ever happened. Actually? We both know that doesn’t work.

    So how about instead you fly out to South Dakota, I’ll play the role of Bitter McTwisted, and you can kick the stuffing out of me? Anything to get your mind off it for a while…

  • Teuchter

    Buggery bollocks.
    What I meant to say was :hugs: – but the interwebs ate it.

  • Illanare

    Oh crikey. Thinking of you…

  • twangy

    A dread cocktail of hormones, fear, anxiety, and rage? I am so sorry. That would wreck anyone’s head.
    Come on, better times, you are LONG overdue.
    xx

  • everydaystrange

    My God, I have likewise been in vast, hatey-world-y mode, and I don’t have anything like the stress of “pee stick is not good news, no matter what it portends” as you do.

    Let’s go find some people we hate and hold them down and smack them a while. My first stop is Jeremy Clarkson, are you in?

  • Betty M

    Happy to offer my cat for kicking. She has become an annoying moulting furry health hazard. With you on the no test thing – testing doesn’t actually change anything so I always avoided it. Hope the sunshine has helped improve the outwards animal kicking grumpiness if not the inner turmoil.

  • Jane G

    Hi May, I have been really crap at leaving comments of late, but just want to say that I am thinking of you and I hope Positive Thinking Fairy wins the day. Hugs xx

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