The past 24 hours have been truly unpleasant. The cramps were horribly painful – eh, if you’ve been singing along for a while you’ll know that my periods are usually horribly painful – and came with an added hearty dose of vomiting. Not just once or twice, as in my past few periods, but again and again, all night, until there was absolutely nothing, not even bile, left to hurl. And I couldn’t even take painkillers for about 12 hours, because when I tried, I threw them straight back up again.
At one point H, who was being saintly about being woken up every two hours to rinse out my washing-up bowl, asked me if I needed an ambulance. It was that fun.
But I did not have a major haemorrhage, so we didn’t bother with ambulances.
I am feeling better now. Very dehydrated, but I’ve managed to eat a mug-ful of chicken soup with tiny pasta stars in (best food ever for colds, stomach bugs, and general misery), and while still sore and aching from ribs to knee, much less uncomfortable.
H, poor poor sod, has a partially erupted wisdom-tooth, which decided that now, now after years of good behaviour, is a splendid time to develop some kind of infection. He’s on antibiotics, but his face hurts and I’m sure he’s been feverish the past couple of days.
We’re a pair of utter wrecks.
As for The Professor and her private clinic of tender loving care, I am feeling very much WTF about them. No HCG? Really? Why not? I mean, I understand why no scan – I never even got to the end of ‘week 4’, so nothing would have been visible on a scan anyway, but no HCG? *whimper*.
(We have a follow-up appointment with her on the 4th of January (I think H said), and by ‘eck I will be mentioning the lack of HCG).
Meanwhile, meanwhile, dear readers, six miscarriages. Six. And, if I hadn’t been testing like a maniac from 9dpo in a desperate attempt to save this pregancy with the power of aspirin, I’d’ve never known it was there in the first place, I lost it so soon. (Suspected it, probably, what with the high temperatures, super sense of smell, ickiness, mystic feeling of interconnectedness within my uterus, yada yada yada).
Merry Bloody Christmas.