Zen finally takes over

There is nothing that I can do to save this baby or not, it will be what will be.

The peace of u/s lasts for about 2 days, then I am totally positive that the Bean has died. Continually spotting does not help, neither does the constant cramping.

I understand that the cramping is a normal part of early pregnancy - its ligaments or something, but seriously, the Bean is 1.16 cm long - how much room does it need.

Luckily, the clinic takes my mania seriously, and I get weekly u/s. Which means 2 days before I go off down the whatif path of no return. Sandy asks when I expect to start enjoying this pregnancy. After all, we have worked so hard for it, surely we should start to enjoy it. There is no concept of enjoying it, there is just a sense of relief at making it to the next milestone. 10 weeks, lets see if the placenta forms so my crappy immune system can stop destroying it, 12 weeks, lets see if we make it through the nuchal fold test (not to mention actually making it to 12 weeks). My lovely friends are all aware that they can't mention this pregnancy until 12 weeks.

I know, I am not alone, lots of long term ivfers feel this way, particularly if there have been previous losses. I bookmark a few blogs and get Spot to read them, hoping he can understand, but he can't. He is just positive and happy and patiently waiting for me to get there so we can share it. Poor thing, not only was he deprived by taking up with an ivf chick, now he can't even enjoy this baby with me.

Still, I have reached a point of zen. What will be will be.

Baby still on board

I knew I didn't trust hospitals for a reason (like the complete misdiagnosis of the first two ectopics, ohhh, just as an example).

Turns out bleeding is a subchorionic haematoma. Its a clot in the newly forming placenta and its clearly visible when Karen does my weekly ultrasound this morning. Fortunately it is fairly far away from Bean, also Bean continues to have a heartbeat (153bpm in case anyone is counting). This is good.

Dr Google tells me that 40% of pregnancies will have some bleeding and 50% of those will go on to be fine. Luckily that leaves me 50% to worry about. My FS starts to talk about handing me over to an obs (which she is not). I'm not sure I can cope with graduation, but luckily I get to have a blood test to compensate.

Things you learn in Emergency Dept

1. Coffee carts arrive at 3am so that the night nurses get a break. Not bad coffee either.

2. Said night nurses get really cranky if you keep pulling out your canular so that you can go outside to have a cigarette, particularly if you keep bleeding on the floor (this I overheard, not experienced).

3. Radiographers are expensive and the Drs won't call them out for miscarriages.

4. Spot the Wonder boy gets cranky when they tell him to go home at 1am cos nothing is going to happen until 8am.

What they don't tell you in ED

Why you are currently bleeding to death, and whether your baby is still alive.

Still, good to know about the coffee.

In the end, they do an ultrasound (at a reasonable time when the radiographer feels like turning up for work), find a heartbeat and no blood around the uterus or fluid in my tube and send me home to bed rest with a diagnosis of threatened miscarriage.

Remember how, a few weeks ago, I ran into my boss at my clinic and was horribly embarassed. Now, not so much. He actually understands what we are going through and tells me to take as much time as I need on bedrest. This is possibly the worst week in the entire year for this to happen (cos, hell, there is a good time for a threatened miscarriage) and he makes me cry by being so completely and totally understanding.

Lots of phone calls back and forth between Sandy, the FS and me (its not that I don't believe the hospital, its just that, well, I don't believe the hospital) and I'm on bedrest.

Spot tries to ban me from Dr Google, Mama Bear just starts praying (she's good like that) and I rest.

Bleeding ..

Off to Emergency.

I love my friends

Today I made one of the hardest phone calls I have had to make, and as usual you havent let me down at all.

Despite losing both your babes in 3 months, you still managed to sound happy for me. Even if you are only faking it, you did it so well, and I am so grateful that you are my friend and bring light into my world.

I know that it won't be long and I will be congratulating you, but in the mean time, I know how hard it is to get the news that once again someone ELSE is getting the baby and you are not.

Thank you.

Houston, we have a heartbeat

Back again on dildo cam ...

By now, I totally fail to have any dignity at all, before the door is practically closed I am on the bed, stripping off. Karen, the radiographer, keeps leaving the room in order "to give me some privacy", then she comes back and sticks a condom covered wand and starts poking around, so I am not sure what sort of privacy she means here. Nevermind, just a random thought from the trenches.

Back to the important bits ... bean has grown, and has a heartbeat, 117 bpm. Which everyone is happy with, even me. That should stop me from panicing for approximately 7 hours. The little thing is measuring 6w, 2 days so a little smaller but generally all good. It flickers away on the screen like a little beacon.

So to sum up, we have a heartbeat in the right place, it can only end in disaster.

Oh look, there it is

Right where it ought to be, with all the bits that it ought to have.

I cry, Spot cries, Sandy and Anne cry when I go in to the clinic next door to tell them (oh, and to have my blood test). Its a postive festival of weeping.

Now I can get on with panicing about the heartbeat.

HCG is still lowish, but mostly doubling now - up to 25,340. P4 has come down, now its 843. The girls keep checking that I am not on pessaries anymore - as if I am hiding them up there for fun. Not so much.