Coping (or not so much) after the loss

I had been given Monday following the surgery off. The next day, Panda had to return to work and I was meant to. I did not. I had not been able to sleep the night before, I was still in agony with my legs but more than that - I couldn't face the idea of going into the workplace. Besides that I just couldn't stop crying.

I had a panic attack of sorts - stressed that I would break down in tears if someone asked how I was or even breaking down for no reason at all. I was petrified that - not being in the right state of mind - I might say something inappropriate to a customer that could affect my job, especially if a customer got aggressive or angry about something that in the end.. doesn't matter.

I managed to call work to let them know I wouldn't be in - hoping I wouldn't get any of the bitchy ones. Hoping worked - I got the 'mother hen' of the work leaders. She'd dealt with me before when i had an adverse reaction at work to some fertility medication, although she didn't know or pry for the root cause.

Managing to drag myself to the doctor's for a medical certificate was an experience. The opposing wall to where the waiting room is has an opaque tint to try to block out the intense sun. It doesn't really work, so no one gave me side eye when I was sitting there with sunnies on.

As usual, I couldn't see my usual doctor because you have to pre-plan and book your sickness weeks in advance apparently which is a bit messed up to me. So I went to see a doctor I hadn't used before but Panda had. He'd told me this doctor was good and actually listened to him. The last doctor we had there that really gave a crap left a few months ago so I was sold.

And he was good, he listened, he gave me time which is normally harder to get out of a doctor than blood from a stone and when some nurse barged in he politely excused himself to deal with that as well as keeping them out of the room and came back apologising even though it wasn't his fault people don't know how to knock. He was really kind to me.

I told him what I wrote here, that I didn't think I could cope with work and I was in so much emotional and physical pain. He told me to take the week off work, and to let him know if that wasn't enough and also offered me pain killers for my legs.

Afterwards I sat in my car for a little bit while I sorted myself out then I told myself I needed to do this right so I headed to work. I was booked in for a flu shot anyway, so instead of cancelling it I turned up and got that. Last year we had a total rude cow doing the jabs but this time we had this lovely lady who asked how my day was going and I had to be that one person saying "lady, don't even ask" while holding back tears.

Babysitter's club, say hello to your SCREAMING NIECE OH GOSH WHYYY

Now the day after my surgery we were scheduled to baby sit our new niece, RNK. In hospital the previous night - my parents told us to not go ahead with this if we didn't feel up to it. They would have gladly done it but they had a prior engagement. It was only for a sporting event but I know how much that sport meant to my sister - frankly I'm surprised she lasted the entire pregnancy without kicking a soccer ball.

So we agreed to do it. It started off okay, Laalaa was on time, RNK was cheerful and smiling. Laalaa told us she hadn't had a nap (we suspect she planned this so she'd fall asleep for us) but was otherwise sorted for feeds and what not.

Then Laalaa left.

All was peaceful on the south-eastern front until...

Five minutes later.....

She realised we were NOT THE MAMA.

For those not aware, impersonation of 'the mama' is a screamable offence. 

We didn't know better, we were just the temporary care takers (let's face it, this kid has no ball kicking skills and lets the soccer team down constantly. They're trying again next season) and didn't mean any offence. 

We tried the traditional calming rituals of "ooh, what's this teddy bear doing here" or "let me hold you and wobble you around while we walk" but this had no effect. Then we attempted the "hey, is that a rattle? I think it is!" and "lying on a sweet pirate rug" before the "putting you back in the stroller and rocking you back and forth, as words from the ancestors foretold this would work sufficiently". 

Miscarriage of Justice Pt 2 - The surgery

Shortly after leaving the specialist, we walked across to the hospital. Luckily, we were the only two people there. Last time there was a roomful of waiting people. I spoke to the receptionist-person and she advised me that my surgery had been moved to about half an hour away, instead of the two hour wait we had anticipated. I confirmed that all the paperwork was pretty much sorted, but I still had to sign some things. During this, the lady - who was otherwise very nice - made the fatal error of trying to make small talk.

Nothing wrong with small talk but what she said was 'So, got anything planned after this?' like I had just popped in for a spot of tea and I would walk out of here soon like my life was fine, unchanged. That was it. I had some silent, lonely tears before but now the flood gates opened, and the little guards that were supposed to be keeping them shut were like 'Not my problem! See ya!' before abandoning the metaphorical ship and heading to the life rafts.

I think the lady realised the mistake and I'm not going to hold it against her because I know she didn't mean to upset me. I just took the tissue box she offered me and blindly stumbled across the room to where hubby was sitting. He took one look at my face and dropped everything - holding me in his strong, warm arms.

We didn't get much time to ourselves before a kindly nurse came to take us to prepare. I forgot her name immediately and couldn't even make out her name badge. First of all they weighed me.. on this little helipad looking thing where I discovered I'd lost two kilos since yesterday.
Then they ushered us into this little joint room where there was a lady in the far corner. We didn't talk to her. The nurse came back, did some blood pressure tests and then took me out of that room and into a private room.

I got to put on the attractive muu-muu gown and the indecipherable surgery underpants - was there a front? Was that supposed to be the back? Are these multi-sex? Are these the same material they make the hospital booties out of? Technically this was for a hospital booty, I guess...Everything I'm going through and the hardest part of my day is figuring out friggin' underpants - which honestly, I thought was a bit redundant because I knew I wouldn't be wearing them for long.


Maybe they were for the staff's benefit because they sure as hell weren't making me comfortable.






I had to get help with the stupid hospital stockings. Hubby did a good job, but the nurse told us we didn't quite do it right (not in a mean way, she blamed the ambiguous socks too) and helped us out. We made a bit of harmless small talk about how she could probably do this job in her sleep.
She agreed, telling us she helps put the stockings on someone at least five times during a shift.

It pains me that I can't remember her name - I think it was Carly. There was a Carly and a Sam assigned to help me, and I can't remember which one she was exactly.

So that done, I hop into the bed, after quickly stuffing some tissues into my hand. Hubby gives me a cuddle before they wheel me out - this comical hospital bed that barely fits through the friggin' doors - and I overhear the gurney guy (don't even know his name) tell hubby that they'll look after me.
This, I don't doubt. This is probably the best hospital I've ever been in, all the staff honestly give a shit and the amenities are good, like free parking and stuff.

But I'd rather not have to be here at all being treated kindly or not. I would prefer to be still going about my life with a live baby.

Miscarriage of justice Pt 1

We had thought everything was going well. We'd been told our one egg first try miracle was going strong. For my 11 week ultra sound, I was able to schedule it at a time where my husband could be present as well. I was so excited. Last time, we couldn't hear the heartbeat very well on the machine but the OG said it was normally that way with tummy ultrasounds.

This time, we did the belly scan.. nothing. Silence from the doctor. Trying to keep a positive mental state. OG says it wasn't what he wanted to see, so we did a vaginal scan as well which revealed that our baby had stopped developing.. probably around two weeks prior. It was pale, small, and no longer had a heartbeat.

The words no one wants to hear followed by 'I'm sorry.'

We were left alone in the room for a moment to grieve and get our heads together (and in my place, put my pants back on) before going back to discuss it. I was either trying to be strong and rational or perhaps I was in shock because the tears didn't come straight away. The sight of my devastated husband was what did it for me. He had come here to hear a heartbeat and see a baby sized human, not to have a nightmare come true.

I was glad he was there with me, I don't know what I would have done if I was alone.

OG said that he didn't want to go through anything in depth with us, to go home, get some rest and he would call us tomorrow. He gave us both the next two days off work. Hubby didn't want me driving but I insisted I would be fine - who hasn't driven while crying their eyes out before, right? Besides, it was something to do and I didn't want to leave my car overnight in the city.

So off we went, hubby following me, stopping only to refuel my car (because awful timing will always be present) and buy depression chocolate.

Heartbeat of our lives

This week I went to the Fetal Medicine Unit for an ultrasound.

They used to be right next door to my ob/gyn but since the ob/gyn moved (across the road) I just parked there and walked over because there's a Macca's in the other carpark so it's always hectic.

I got there early, but then got distracted and ended up having to rush up a flight of stairs to be on time. Wasn't really sure what to expect, so sitting in the waiting room for longer than I thought I'd be made me nervous. The receptionists were all very nice. So was the doctor.

He actually made conversation with me that wasn't entirely to do with medical stuff, including a little know fact about a famous namesake of mine. He was delighted that I already knew it, but I didn't tell him that I'd actually read it in a book no more than three days prior to my visit.

The doctor seemed a little too polite? Like... at this point everyone else is like OK pants off time, let me close the door for a few seconds but this guy draws the curtains, leaves the room and tells me he'll knock before he comes in. It's kind of amusing.

So I undress and get up on this little stand to reach the bed height - sort of. I'm expecting a hard surface, so I jump onto it intending to use my cat-like reflexes to grasp the sides and stabilise myself but it's actually squishy as hell, so I almost bounce right off the other end!

Started on the mattress now we on the floor

I manage to extract myself from the ten million pillows there and get into position. The doctor comes back and says I'm better off inserting the trans-vaginal probe for comfort and he averts his eyes. Not sure if not entirely comfortable with vaginas or if he's just trying to make me feel comfortable.

Anyway, the whole point was to check fetal viability and it seemed pretty good. The doctor was happy with everything. He points out what's what, tells me it looks great and healthy in there and then..... something I didn't/hadn't known to expect.

The trans-vaginal stick is secretly a microphone and I can hear baby's heartbeat!

Eggcellent skills

Well I was post poning this.... post, wow that sounded weird but anyway I didn't want to write anything for fear of jinxing something but... we're past our two week wait and things are looking... POSITIVE!

I'm also going to be buying a lot of things that look like these.

And hubby and I are totally doing this....

While thinking about this....

The egg implantation wasn't too scary either. This one was done at the fertility clinic with no anaesthetic, just a comfy chair and dimmed lights. Hubby was nagging me about wearing my daggy slip on shoes - which, yeah, they are a bit daggy but I didn't want to be farting around with laces or fiddly shoes. Besides, no one's there to critique my footwear. 

I stayed classy just now and didn't make the fur slipper joke but you're gong to think it now, aren't you?

Waiting room adventures and the hunger of a lifetime

After going through our cycle and this time going to egg collection, I just wanted to note down what happened from my point of view.

The day I was scheduled in for surgery, I had slept pretty well the previous night, considering.
I had had my trigger shot at 8pm on Sunday night, spent the whole of Monday at work being fretfully calm and then Tuesday I was raring to go.

I think the worst part of it was the fasting from midnight Monday. I know, first world problems and all.. but when someone tells you you can't eat... suddenly that's all you wanna do. Especially when you're a bit nervous. As it turns out, my operation was delayed due to a Cesarean and the waiting room kept playing ads for bacon.

Hubby was sitting with me in the waiting room until he had to go drop a load at the fertility clinic, then I had to go and see some nurses. They were all very nice, the main one Erin - kept up a light, witty banter. The only part I didn't like was the chat about the newest Kardashian-Jenner... personally I find them boring as hell and not worth keeping up with but I gave a chuckle or two when the nurse said she had put a bet on the new kid's name being either something generic like Jane or something ridiculous like Asparagus.

This nurse seems alarmed by how... hmm, vanilla I am?
I don't want to say boring, but she's like ok no allergies, no major prior surgery, no complications, no intricate vaginal piercings...
I'm sitting there like, Yup. You just wasted a lot of paper.

I kept getting called into tiny rooms for small consultations. One for the initial paper work run through, one to get changed (was surprised I didn't get a hair net or socks?) one to meet the anaesthetist and then one to go into the prep room. 

I also got to meet my fertility technician again - he was the one who did the lab tour with us and I recall quite liking him. Very happy, pleasant dude. I have forgotten his name though. Oops.

Tiny nurse Tina was also very nice, Gurney pushing Greg was hilarious - I felt weird being pushed around several wards when I was perfectly able to walk so it was nice to crack jokes about how many blue marks were on the otherwise pristine white roof. I also thanked him for bringing the bed down to my height otherwise I'd have no idea how I was gonna get up there. He said he wouldn't do that to me - very sweet.