Continued from previous post part 1…
February 2015 the very same month, here it was again exactly one year later, another BFP (big fat positive) pregnancy test again.
Do I get excited? Yes of course the first time can happen to anyone right? So as the days went by I anaylsed every symptom, feeling, emotions and twinge I had. Every trip to the toilet I checked was I bleeding, every minute of each day felt like a year waiting in fear. I tried to drag out the scan to 8 weeks for the heartbeat scan. De ja vu kicked in one morning at work when my visit to the toilet ended up in the Emergency Department alone, not wanting to tell my fiance that I was once again a failure. I just wanted to be alone. As the hours past getting bloods and talking to doctors and nurses and waiting to be moved from one area to another, I got the scan confirming again the baby had stopped growing at 5w 6d. Exactly to the day of the first. It felt like I was living in a bad dream. As I waited for the doctor, I called my fiance to fill him in on my day, not exactly my usual midweek work call to him. I was greeted by the head doctor which to my horror was the most insensitive, heartless person I needed right at that moment. I felt a lot of anger build up within me about what was happening and it was then that she informed me that she was refusing to book me in for a d&c surgery and I should take the tablets, go home and wait for the baby to pass as it was approaching the long weekend. So after a half hour of arguing and crying I agreed, against everything I believed in, to take the tablets. I took them while she was sitting beside me informing me to stop by the chemist to stock up on panadine forte and codeine as within 2 hours my cervix would soften, the cramps would begin and I would lie there waiting to watch “the baby” pass in the toilet. How was this happening again?
Throughout the long weekend I lay in bed crying while all our close friends were at our best mates engagement party, the four long slow days eventually passing by and the baby was going nowhere. The only memory I have of that weekend was tears, disappointment and pain while apologising to my fiancé for been such a failure. I went back to hospital on the Tuesday demanding to be booked into surgery and I thankfully got a doctor who was so apologetic and sympathetic. The next day I went through the same process as the first; tablets, pain, drips and tears. Been wheeled down to theatre it was the same nurses and surgeons all acknowledging they knew me from before which offered great comfort. The pain after surgery was a lot worse than the first time so they kept me in longer pumping drugs through a drip. My fiancé held my hand as I was groggy, upset and in a lot of pain. Another 2 weeks off work, I was so lucky to have such an amazing boss and work colleagues offering so much support. My close mates delivered so much flowers, chocolates and support.
September 2016 that same year my stepdad got diagnosed with cancer this year surely could not get any worse could it?
February 2016, 3 months before we got married in Santorini, Greece, I went to a clairevoyant whom I had been to when I lost the first baby. This time she dumbfounded me when she mentioned it straight away….I thought I needed to go back for me to see would she mention the babies or the wedding or my stepdads health. We had said we had stopped trying as the wedding was so close and there was too much flying. She asked was I pregnant I laughed and said no. Sure as 3 weeks later I took a test and I was. Wow, this would mean I would be 3 months for the wedding and we could announce it on our wedding day which was exactly what my family needed to help my dad fight. This time was different however; there were complications. The fear and frustration and heart ache grew; We did not have time for this as we were having a legal marriage ceremony in Perth in 6 short weeks.
They suspected an ectopic pregnancy on paper but major concerns grew as they could not find a baby in the tubes or anywhere but my hcg pregnancy hormones kept rising. I started to panic as they sent me home telling me to come back every second day for over a week to see if anything changed. My hcg hormone kept rising and still no baby in my tubes. This had become serious as they escalated it to the head gyno and surgeon doing the scans explaining we might have to cancel our wedding. I lay there in tears, my stepdad had fought so hard since September and this wedding was happening whether they liked it or not. My fiancé and I pushed and pushed for something to happen.
They explained if they let me fly and my tubes burst I could die and getting married on a small island in this condition was not appropriate. They discussed giving me Methotrexate injections meaning I could not fly….of course I disagreed. I could not tell my family; this was a hard enough year for us all.
The next day we agreed on a laparoscopy followed by a d&c hoping with the combined surgery they would make this wedding happen.
Every doctor and nurse in the hospital were approaching me with love and support as the girl who needed to get better to fly to Santorini to get married so her dad could walk her down the aisle.
The outcome was my family smiling in Santorini but unfortunately this was not the end of the heartache
Part 3 – follow on in 2 weeks….