Why is it that the day you get your period is always the day where you’ll see a baby on every corner?!
My mum lost her hearing in one of her ears a few years ago and the doctors never knew what caused it. She was booked in for an M.R.I scan, but ended up not going through with it saying she felt too frightened and claustrophobic. I told her she was being ridiculous, that if its going to help, well she should just bloody do it.
Mere hours after my own M.R.I, I phoned to apologise to her. I now understood exactly what she meant.
The nurses told me to remove all jewellery, piercings and kirbies (bobby pins).Simple right? Not for me. I have a…lets say..intimate piercing that is impossible to remove on my own. I sheepishly explained this and was told that I might need to go home as the piercings can “explode” and rip out whatever part of the body it’s attached to. Then another nurse came, handed me a magnet and told me to hold it against my..well, my coochie… to see if the piercing was magnetised. It wasn’t, so she said I would be safe to go in and there would be no exploding vaginas to worry about!
I put on my gown and answered some basic health and safety questions, then was warned that the IV buscopan that I was about to receive might make my vision blurred, and that on rare occasions, tattoos can heat excessively during an MRI, and if this happens I should push the buzzer and they’ll take me out. So now I’m worried about going blind, having exploding genitals and burning from the inside out. Great. What a morning.
I lay on the bed thing, and 2 boards were placed on top of me and fastened to the bed so that my arms were trapped by my side, rendering me unable to move. I was told I’d be lying under the machine for an hour. An HOUR! As I started to be moved in, I immediately knew what my mum meant – it was horrible. I felt trapped and couldn’t see anything around me apart from the white machine.. They gave me earphones, but it was impossible to concentrate on the music over the hums, and beeps and murmurs of the machine.
About 30mins in, I needed to sneeze. Shit. I’m not supposed to move in here right? It came and went twice, until I couldn’t stop it. Twice. Two sneezes! I tried to stifle it, which only resulted in my eyes watering. I could feel a small steady stream of tears rolling down my face. I couldn’t life my arm to wipe it. Uhoh, now my nose was running. Bogies slowly dripped down my face. Oh god, its going in my mouth, its going in my mouth. I turned my head ever so slightly to try send the snotters off course. Result! They bypassed my mouth and continued rolling down my chin and on to my neck. Crap, there goes my eyes again. More tears were coming. My face was a soggy mess and I couldn’t do anything about it.
Finally, the murmurs stopped and I started to move backwards. The nurses appeared and unstrapped the boards. I could finally lift my hands and wipe my wet, snotter soaked face. It was over.
Or was it? Maybe that was that the easy part?
I know in my head that I can’t keep trying forever. Physically its impossible, and emotionally -well I don’t know how much longer I can go.
Should I give myself an end date? Should I keep going until I physically can’t? Should I stop when I’m emotionally worn out, or will there be too much damage already done?
I’ve just began a new cycle. I feel exhausted and its barely even started.
This time two years ago I was putting last minute touches to my wedding plans. I wasn’t pregnant and didn’t know the pain of recurrent miscarriage. I had no idea that I was about to spend the next two years trying for a baby only to lose it every time. I had no idea I would have started a miscarriage blog and have 100 people reading it. I had no idea I would have to undertake tests, book acupuncture appointments and spend months researching tips on having a full term pregnancy.
I sometimes try imagine myself in 5, 10 years – in a beautiful house, with 2 kids – (stepson and one biological one), financially secure and happy, and then I have to stop myself. I have no idea what the future is going to bring – that’s more obvious to me now than it’s ever been.
So, as I sit in a hotel room waiting to visit Poland for my 30th birthday, all I can do is forget about my past; stop picturing my future and just enjoy my present.
Hubby and I just stared at each other. Were we really pregnant? Could we celebrate? Could we even be happy?
I’d say I was 60/40. 60% happy, 40% shitting myself. Considering our losses, I’m pretty chuffed with that ratio.
A few weeks passed and I over analysed every symptom.. or lack of. Were my boobs still sore? (hubbys squeeze test never failed!) Was that a cramp? Am I pooping a normal amount? (Yup it genuinely got to that stage)
Last Friday I was walking to meet Nikki after work and i felt…. something… in my underwear. I just knew it wasn’t right. I went to a toilet and there it was… blood.
It was brown, which I know is old blood blablabla, but that never helped! I rushed to EPAU who told me they could do nothing and to go home. “WHAT? How very fucking dare you?!” I genuinely couldn’t believe what they were telling me. We decided to trot on over to A&E and see what they could do. 5 hours later we left knowing that my HCG was 95 and I was either very early or miscarrying. So basically none the fucking wiser.
Saturday morning, Nikki calls EPAU again. The woman was an absolute saint. Agreed to see me on the Monday morning.
Sunday night comes, and so does the red blood. The little hope i had left was gone. I was in floods of tears yet again.
At EPAU the next morning, I was given a transvaginal scan (eugh) and bloods taken again. The nurse told me that my original levels were too low and to expect the worst.
So I go home, hubby brings in cookie dough ice cream (my second tub since Friday btw) and we lay in bed watching tv and crying. My phone rings and its the nurse. My levels have risen to 148. What. The. Fuck? Now she was telling me it was either VERY early, or it could be ectopic. She wanted me back in on Wed for more bloods. Back in limbo yet again. It’s been the worst part of it all. We’ve dealt with losses before, and theyre horrendous but we know how to get through them. The constant glimmers of hope are whats worse.
I passed what looked like tissue on Tuesday night and Wed morning. Ive had absolutely zero pain throughout everything (apart from just after the scan, but that was prob cos she was poking around in there). But my miscarriage.. if thats what it was.. was totally painless.
I’ve had my appointment today and now I’m waiting for my blood results. I guess I’m hoping for them to be lower, so we’ll have an answer. If she tells me they’ve risen again I don’t know what the hell I’ll do. I just want it to be over now.
I hate being pitied. People that tilt their head and lower their eyes if I ask them about their pregnancy. Like they’re afraid to show any kind of excitement incase I throw something at their glowing face.
I despise the “hang in there” and “it’ll happen eventually” comments. One colleague even jokingly said she was going to start a GoFund Me Page for my crushing infertility. (At least I hope she was fucking joking)
When I corrected her and told her I wasn’t actually struggling with infertility she was baffled and questioned “so what’s wrong with you”?.. We’ll luckily for you it’s not my inability to control my temper or reward stupidity with a swift kick to the shin.
Listen, I totally appreciate people that sympathise or empathise with me. People that have genuine questions about miscarriages or the affects they’ve had on me. If you’re one of them then I have all the time in the world, but please do not bloody pity me. Please don’t think I am any less of a woman for not having a child. Please don’t think that I am so obsessed with getting pregnant that it’s the only thing I want to talk to you about. I’m a woman for fucks sake, compliment my hair or something.
I’ve been absent from WordPress again the past few weeks. I’m the worst blogger, I really am.
I’ve been so busy with working full time and getting my online business up and running. It’s been going great but it’s hard keeping up with orders and work and trying for a baby. It’s bloody exhausting!
I took on board everyone’s advice last post and purchased raspberry leaf tea capsules. I had to do the capsule thing; I’m really not a huge tea drinker. Believe it or not, not everyone in the UK loves a cuppa!
I also tried the “conceive plus” fertility gel, but I have to admit I wasn’t a huge fan. It wasn’t particularly messy or icky like I feared.. it just kind of made it.. I dunno, different. We ended up just using it after I *cough* finished *cough* which worked out best for us. Maybe I’m just not a lube-y kinda girl.
Anyone experience side effects from the supplements? Just curious.
I’m now on day 30, of a normal 32 day cycle. (Last month was 33) and feeling pretty normal. I’ve been crazy gassy (TMI) much to my husband’s delight and I’ve been a little emotional – but my dog did just pass away so….
Anyway. I’ll update with any phantom symptoms/late periods/eventual menstruation 🙂
I’ve made a lot of changes to my diet the past few months.
I rarely eat red meat, possibly once or twice a month.
Switched from minced beef to quorn (far nicer by the way)
I’ll have a few glasses of wine when I’m on my period but no other alcohol the rest of the month
I’ve cut down massively on dairy and sugar.
I take vitamin c, vitamin d, calcium and folic acid.
This month I’m trying more. I’ve ordered a fertility lube. Now I’ve NEVER used lube… maybe it’s just me, but I don’t think it’s as common place here in the UK as it is in America. I bought “conceive” plus. Has anyone used it and can share some stories? Has it helped? Is it icky?
A friend of mine also recommended cassava root. Has anyone had experience with this? I’ve read people who want twins take it… now don’t get me wrong, I’d LOVE a child but the idea of twins terrifies me!!
Anyone got other recommendations or things they take or things they do differently now? I’d be interested to hear them.
It hasnt been a good week.
I’ve been having this recurring dream that I’m no longer married. I know that at some point I was, but for reasons that I never find out – my husband has left me.
After some Googling, I discovered that (the short meaning) is I’m insecure about something.
Insecure?! Jeez I’d never have thought that….
Don’t get me wrong, in my relationship I’m very happy (obviously I’m missing the baby, but everything else is great) but in myself, I can be horribly insecure.
I’ve dyed my hair twice in the last week and every time I do I end up in floods of tears thinking I look hideous. Ugly.
I take my make up off at night and notice my blemishes so much more.
Taking my make up off makes my hair look worse too.
My husband tells me I’m the most beautiful person he’s seen and he doesn’t understand why I feel like this sometimes.
I don’t know either. I don’t know if I’m insecure because I’ve failed to keep a baby, failed to get pregnant as quick as I wanted to.
Am I insecure because I don’t look like the tanned, contoured girls on instagram?
Am I insecure because my parents marriage ended horribly and I’m terrified it’ll happen to mine?
Or am I insecure because my hair is actually that rank?
When I was in my first years of high school I was always known more as the funny one rather than the pretty one. I was always just friends with the boys n for the most part I didn’t really mind. I was always a bit different and had this huge ginger mane that I had no clue what to do with. Not exactly a good look.
I remember Valentine’s Day coming round and always knowing that I probably wouldn’t get a card. I wasn’t massively bothered but still, I kind of hoped. Let myself get clouded by the false hope and would become a little bit excited. Then I’d tell myself that it didn’t matter. It was only a fucking card Nicola!
When I turned 15, I went to the Under-18 clubs, embraced my hair, got boobs and got a boyfriend.
I’d waited a few years for my Valentine’s cards then suddenly found myself surrounded by them (OK.. well I got a few, they weren’t exactly dripping from the ceiling)
This is pretty much how I feel about the whole trying to conceive cycle. Like I’m waiting and hoping to just get pregnant, knowing deep down that I prob won’t be getting the positive just yet. Letting the false hope get the better of me.
I know that one day I’m going to get what I’ve been waiting for.. it just feels like I’m back in school again, feeling a bit left out.
(Yeah…My period turned up today. Just to clarify that)