Remembering the second

There was a lot of time to mentally prepare for the worst, but there was always a glimmer of hope that we would see our baby on the follow up ultrasound. Once again, the sonographer put the wand on my stomach and nothing was seen. We were sad but it was different than last time. No crying. Just an expectation that had been met, and that I’d be in for another period of time where I’ll be recovering from surgery and from another missed miscarriage / blighted ovum.

The scan was on a Monday, I had my appointment with my GP on the Tuesday and I was booked in to the early pregnancy unit at the local hospital for Wednesday morning. The whole process happened so seamlessly and I’m glad I “got it over with” so quickly. When I was waiting to go into theatre I heard a baby crying. The anaesthetics nurse apologised and asked if I’d like to be moved. No, it was totally fine. If that was a birth then it was actually kind of cool. Sure, I didn’t want to be going in for a D&C but it was special knowing that I had heard someone’s first cries. I remembered one of the staff members from last time and he remembered me too – I have no idea how! But the familiarity of the situation, however sad, was actually helpful to me because I at least knew the process and what would be happening next.

The next thing I knew I was waking up in recovery to a lovely man welcoming me back into the conscious world. We got chatting about his Mitsubishi Triton ute in my half asleep state and he said that I probably wouldn’t remember this conversation. Ha – proved him wrong! 🙂 hehe

I was back at work the next day (cleared by my doctor of course). Aside from the bruise on my canula site and my random days off over the past fortnight there were no signs that anything was wrong. The bleeding was minimal and I was relieved.

Friday came around and I noticed headaches coming on. That’s super weird because I don’t get headaches. Anyway by the time my morning shift had finished I was getting feverish and achey – fast. I got home as fast and I could and went to bed. The weather was super hot, yet I managed to sleep for an hour and a half under my blankets without air conditioning or a fan to keep me cool. And I was still a little chilly. I figured if a sleep didn’t sort it out I should call the doctor. Which I did. My mother in law came around and took me to the doctor where I registered a temperature of 38.3 (celcius). I was put on antibiotics because there was really no reason for me to be unwell. No flu like symptoms, just a recent surgery that had gone well.

Looking back at it all I think it was just the start of a process. Saturday came and I was increasingly uncomfortable. I started to pass a couple of (small) clots. At 11:30pm I got the most horrendous pain and immediately knew that I should go to the toilet. I didn’t know if I needed to actually go but it seemed like a good idea. My husband followed me up and asked me what seemed like every 10 seconds if I was ok. Anyway. I ended up passing some retained product, which was the weirdest thing ever. Strangely enough it felt good to know that things were coming out, even though it was really the grossest thing ever. All of this happened on minimal pain killers too, so after this happened I upped my painkillers. I was feeling exhausted from the cramps that plagued me and increased as the day had progressed. Later on I read that sometimes you go through a mini-labour process to pass the products. I think that happened with me.

Sunday came and went, and I passed more product. Thankfully with the painkillers it wasn’t as bad as Saturday night, but I was still very uncomfortable. My husband didn’t want to leave me unsupervised incase something happened and I needed to get to hospital. On Monday I passed my last bit of product and went in for my follow up ultrasound later in the afternoon. As suspected, there was product left over. I felt like saying “Duh! I could have told you that!” So my GP (in her wonderful efficiency) sent me back to the early pregnancy unit just in case they wanted to repeat the D&C. Thankfully they didn’t, but it was super weird and a little scary knowing that there was still stuff in there and next cycle I may have a repeat of what I had just gone through.

Mentally, the emotions crept up on me. For a week or two I would only feel sad or upset occasionally, but over time things have grown worse. Not that it’s super bad, but I’m noticing the emotions much more frequently than when it first happened.

Physically, I was fascinated by the process. As uncomfortable as it was, it really was interesting to see how it all unfolded and how my body reacted to what happened.

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Author: thegriefdiariesblog

A borderline hyperactive Personal Trainer, navigating the process of starting a family.

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