I may as well have had my head in a bucket

Important first things first: I am not bleeding.

There. Now we can all relax for another 24 hours.

So, this morning I didn’t pee on anything interesting at all. I went straight to The Professor’s clinic, where a very, very gentle nurse took two vials of blood, and still left an absolutely navy-blue bruise, despite endless care taken in putting pressure on the puncture (we are blaming the aspirin). And then I went on to work.

Work was (mostly) nicely distracting, because we had the annual Christmas lunch for my team, and so we all went off to a restaurant and thoroughly enjoyed ourselves.

And I was the only one not drinking, and the only one who didn’t have coffee, and the only one who couldn’t finish her pudding (chocolate suddenly tastes quite grim. Too sweet and metallic. This… well, I’m distraught, is what. Chocolate not lovely? Chocolate not comforting? WHAT?). I muttered something about medication. Line-manager did Significant Eye-Brows. Oh, for fuck’s sake.

Mid-afternoon, I finished tidying my desk and putting post-it notes on everything on it (just in case… You know. Just in case) and took myself back across town to The Professor’s clinic, where, shortly, H joined me, and very shortly after that, The Professor called us in to her office.

At which point every single synapse in my fore-brain fused into a jellified lump of stupid. My only conscious thought was ‘I bet she’s going to tell me I’m not really pregnant.’

No, she didn’t tell me that.

What she did tell me was that the aspirin alone had normalised my blood-clotting, so I didn’t need heparin. Just stay on the aspirin. She then went on to book me in for a scan next week, just as if this pregnancy was going to last that long. And a scan for January as well. Bitter McTwisted had full control of all conscious thought by this point, so I asked what I was supposed to do when I started bleeding. I’m fairly sure I said ‘when’ and not ‘if’, but The Professor merely gave me a kindly look and the appropriate phone numbers. It’s all very awkward, Christmas cantering about in the middle of all this and shutting offices for days at a time. We have people to phone, and people to phone when the people to phone aren’t there to phone, and the option of just turning up on the obstetrics ward next door and wailing like a banshee. I feel, not reassured, exactly. More of an ‘at least I won’t have to explain everything eight million times to eight million people this time’ feeling. I am grim, but calm.

It’s going to be a long, long week.

And I very much wish my brain hadn’t liquefied in sheer terror in The Professor’s office, and I very much wish H’s hadn’t either. I don’t know if I actually had an HCG blood test. And if I did, I certainly don’t know what it said. The nurse took two vials, but as far as I’m aware a TEG test only needs a little bit of blood. At the time of the stabbing I didn’t question the second vial – I thought it was the HCG. But The Professor didn’t mention it during the visit and I didn’t ask. How much am I paying this woman to forget to ask her these things? What the hell is wrong with me?

On the other hand, The Professor seemed perfectly satisfied that I was, indeed, pregnant and not about to miscarry any second now. She reassured me that while she knew she couldn’t tell me not to worry, I was on the right medication now, and doing the right things. Scan next week, right?

Right. And logically, I know that HCG tests cost money, and are usually used diagnostically to make sure a suspected ectopic isn’t about to tear merry hell through your guts, or to confirm whether a bleed is one of those things or a Royal Fucker of those things. So maybe they didn’t bother doing one and we’re winging this on the strength of one-and-a-half pee-sticks bought cheap on the Internet.

Never mind. I shall email her PA again tomorrow and ask for the numbers. That’s what expensive private clinics are for – to harrass for information.

Whole consultation lasted about five minutes. After which H took his credit-card over to reception and handed it over for a thorough rogering. Walking away from the place, we had a slightly nervous discussion as to financing of Operation Schrödinger Take Six, but we still have a bit of the money my mother gave us for just this sort of thing, plus all the goddamn money I saved up for IVF, and it’s fine. It’s fine. As the Hairy Farmer Wifey said yesterday, “Ah, the proactiveness of private healthcare. Itches a bit around the morals and the wallet, but awfully soothing where it counts!”

And to be honest, I think the NHS and my principles have duked it out between them so long that I think I’m owed some expensive queue-jumping kid-glovery. Bring it on.


14 responses to “I may as well have had my head in a bucket

  • Rachel

    I always feel that way in big, fancy clinics. Rather than rely on e-mail, can’t you just call them and ask for the numbers? You can always blame your anxiety on hormones, after all.

    Yay for the wonders of aspirin!

  • Betty M

    I’m sure they’ll have done an HCG. No reason not to give you the numbers though. Good news re the heparin – endlessly jabbing yourself is tiresome. Also good that they are keen to scan you regularly living up to the rep of much reassurance.

  • Nina

    Much better when the minions are working for you and not the government! Customer service! Punctuality! Urgency! Oh, how I love thee! May, I’m soooooo happy for you! All appendages still crossed, which makes typing a bitch, let me tell you!

  • wombattwo

    I really would have thought they’d do an HCG too, and the fact that she didn’t mention it is because it’s a) normal (for however early this is) and b) they only have one measurement so you can’t really tell much. Either way, it must have been positive or she wouldn’t book you in for scans etc.
    Were the two tubes different colours?
    It makes me so sad to hear (read) you saying “when” you start bleeding. It’s just so sad that any woman has to think that way, and I know that many of us do. It’s just rubbish, and I wish you weren’t one of those women. I hope that this one is your very own little tenacious miracle.
    Cup of decaffeinated tea and feet up?

  • One Cycle at a Time

    I have to say I’ve been lurking for quite awhile but this pulled me out of the shadows!! I really really hope everything goes smoothly and perfectly from here on out!!! I know Bitter McTwisted is telling you it won’t…. but I am on the edge of my seat here hoping that this is THE ONE THAT STICKS…. We’re all pulling for you! 🙂

  • Womb For Improvement

    It is all sounding very, very positive. (In both ways, geddit?!)

    And, quite frankly, I can’t think of anything better to spend your dosh on.

  • Hairy Farmer Family

    In a strange mirroring, we also spent today rogering credit cards seeing expensive Repro types.

    I am MUCH more excited about your situation than mine!
    A xxx

  • Korechronicles

    Delighted that The Professor has booked you for the scan – queue jumping and NHS be damned! But also anxious on your behalf as I just know how brain skitteringly terrified you must be. Wishing you a Giant Dose of Normal.

    And please remember, my fellow geek, that magicians have calculated that million-to-one chances crop up nine times out of ten. xx

  • Amy P


    To address the one thing no one else has yet… Chocolate tastes vile now? NOOOOOOOOO!


  • a

    I remember that period when chocolate tasted unpleasant. I also remember when I wanted to eat nothing but watermelon (which I don’t generally eat much of) and drink nothing but root beer (which I usually despise). Here’s to many more months of pleasant (and probably unpleasant) new discoveries regarding the taste of foods!

    What is money for if not for smoothing your path? Oh wait – you’re a bit of a socialist, aren’t you? I’m more of a pragmatist…

    There are value charts for hCG that give indications of what’s going on, but it’s more useful to see that your rate is doubling over the course of 48 hours. So, unless you’re going to ask for another blood draw, I wouldn’t worry too much about the level. They obviously also measured whatever issue the aspirin is combatting. They may have also measured progesterone levels, as lots of doctors prescribe progesterone support in one form or another (oral meds, injections, vaginal inserts). Maybe they’re just vampires and figured you wouldn’t notice if they took a little extra.

    I will anxiously await the scan results with you – but maybe you could bring someone who will not be struck dumb with awe or fear to take notes?

  • Cathy

    Second vial for clotting studies?

  • Teuchter

    This is all looking very encouraging and I am delighted for you both.
    I know there’s a long way to go yet

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