a setback...

So we hit another speedhump. This was never part of the plan. I never thought I'd be back here. But I am, so...

It's actually been two calendar months exactly today since the D&C. The first D&C, anyway (yeah... I'll get to that). Back on Tuesday 17 August 2010. I was a mess that day. But if you'd asked me then where I thought I would be on Sunday 17 October 2010, I would have been fairly sure that I'd have come a long way and that we would be ready to start trying again. And that would have been a reasonable expectation.

Alas. No. The last couple of months have been monumentally crud. Even by my standards.

So I'd been feeling awful for a long time, but had convinced myself it was all in my head. I didn't want to be the the hysterical post-miscarriage patient who turns into a hypochondriac at every twinge. So I took the proverbial cup of concrete and just kept going. Fast forward to 6 weeks post-D&C. Impatiently waiting for my cycle to resume, but feeling as though something wasn't quite right. So I did what most girls would do in that situation - I did a test. Not because I thought for one moment that I could be pregnant again (ha! I wish!) but because I wanted the negative test as a control for when we did start trying again. In theory it was a good idea. In practice it was an epic fail because the test was as positive as positive can be. The line was as strong (if not stronger) than the test when I was carrying Peanut.

Now, I did make a promise to myself that I wasn't going to curse on my blog. I need to remind myself of that so I don't repeat verbatim what I said when I saw those lines come up...

So. *sigh* I wasn't actually surprised to still be testing positive. I WAS, however, surprised and concerned to be testing THAT positive. Something wasn't right. And this is where it all started to go pear-shaped. My ob was away so it took a few days to get the ball rolling on what to do next. I was told to see my GP and get a blood test done. This was all fine but the long weekend made it impossible to see my GP for almost a week. Then it took a while to chase up the blood test results. All the while, I'm feeling worse and worse. Eventually my GP clinic's nurse calls me with blood test results and announces that they are positive. Clearly she didn't know the background... So I fill her in, she freaks out, and next thing I know there is another GP on the phone telling me to get a scan done NOW in case I've got an ectopic. Meanwhile, my ob was still away AND so was my regular GP.

o.O

I was 99.9999% sure that an ectopic wasn't the cause, but I still thought a scan sounded like a mighty fine idea. So I called Kym and off we went. And of course, this was a Friday afternoon. I got the scan result there and then - the D&C hadn't removed everything. This didn't surprise me. Why? Well, for starters, my ob had discussed this risk with me so I knew it was entirely possible. And also, I Google wayyyy too much. And remember I'd been feeling terrible for weeks. So Dr Google had already told me what the scan confirmed.

The results were sent through to my GP and to my ob. But remember it was Friday afternoon. And both my GP and my ob were away... so I had to wait until Monday for any action... Clearly the universe was trying to teach me patience.

So Monday afternoon I get a phone call from my ob, and she asked me to come in on Wednesday. And this is where I start to get emotional and foggy again. Because until now I'd still been putting one foot in front of the other, still slowly distancing myself from August and trying to heal myself and focus on the future. And this was taking me right back to where it all began. I wasn't emotionally ready to go there yet. I didn't think I'd be back there until I was pregnant again. Just the thought of going back there and not being pregnant yet made me want to curl into a ball. But I felt rotten. And I knew it was necessary. And I knew I couldn't be in better hands. So I agreed.

So Kym and I saw her on Weds morning. It wasn't a very long appointment. She had seen the scans and the blood test results (I'd had 3 blood tests in the last week) and she'd already told me the most likely course of action. So it was no surprise to be told I needed another D&C. I feebly attempted to have it scheduled for the following week due to my big Zumba weekend ahead. But who was I kidding? I felt like absolute crud and chances are I wouldn't have been well enough to Zumba properly anyway. So I backed down and agreed to Friday instead. And then went to work armed with antibiotics and the knowledge that I'd finally be able to collapse soon. I know it sounds crazy, but I was actually relieved.

And then it was pretty much history repeating itself, except that I had a bit more warning this time so I was able to get a few things in order at work and make arrangements for not being there. I told my team that I wasn't sure how long I would be off for. I didn't put a return date in my Out of Office message. I've learned from last time. Two months older, two months wiser, and two months more heartbroken.

Friday was fine I guess. Much the same as last time. I thought I'd be okay, actually. And I almost was - until I was in the holding area (I don't know what it's called?) just outside theatre waiting to go in. Then the tears started. And I couldn't stop them. All the memories just hit me, and I felt like I was losing her for the first time all over again. And I was discreet (I've become good at that over the last 2 months) but one of the nurses still noticed. Her name was Allie. She might have been a boss nurse... not sure. I have to say, the staff were wonderful to me. Allie let me wait in her office instead so I had some privacy. And she stayed with me and told me funny stories about her sister's kids to make me giggle. And then my ob came in with the anaesthetist, and they were both wonderful as well. I hope, if I ever need surgery again, I can have that same anaesthetist again, because she was just the best. I'm so grateful that I was surrounded by the right people when I needed them most. I didn't expect to fall apart so badly but I guess I should have known better. I had well and truly run out of concrete.

Recovery has been harder this time. I didn't feel good when I woke up, and it wasn't helped by my emotions being stupid. For some reason I had it in my head that it was the end of the world that I would never know whether Peanut was really a girl or a boy. So there were plenty more tears for a while there, but that settled and then I was okay. Apart from still feeling like crud, of course. I was quite sore afterwards and still am now (much worse than last time), but the painkillers make me really dizzy so I'm opting for the soreness instead. At least for now. I still don't feel well enough to drive, so Kym's having to drive me to Loui. Hopefully I'll feel better tomorrow.

Emotionally I'm in a bit of a black hole now. I'm starting to think that I might need to see a counsellor after all. I thought I'd be able to pull myself out of this, but now I have my doubts. I keep asking WHY - why did this have to happen? Why us? Why our first child? And I know that I'm being stupid. Worse things happen. And I'm lucky that there was no medical reason for it to happen and there is no reason why we shouldn't be able to have a healthy pregnancy next time. I'm lucky, dammit! But I still feel so lost. I feel like this is never going to end. I thought we'd be trying again by now, but I'm right back at the start again. I wonder if my body is ever going to fix itself and get back to normal, or if I'll be stuck in this vicious circle forever.

But most of all, I miss my little one. I should have been 20 weeks pregnant now. I should have been halfway through. But instead I'm back here again. I guess I'm still grieving badly for what should have been. And I look at Kym and I know what a wonderful dad he will be, and I just ache that I wasn't able to give him the baby we both adored so much. And I know that I will never stop feeling that way, because Peanut will always be our first child. And we'll always miss her and ache for her, and 5th March will always be a sad day for me now.

I keep telling myself that this was just a setback. The second D&C will have fixed everything. So my cycle should return to normal soon, and then we'll be able to try again. And then I'll be so happy to go back to my ob's office, because it will be for the right reasons again.

But that all feels like an impossible dream right now. I'm in a fog, I'm tired, I'm sore, and I just don't want to see anyone or do anything. I just want to cocoon myself in my home for a while and try to heal. Again. That's why I didn't put a return date on my Out of Office. My ob said I can take as long as I need. So did my manager. Last time I went back to work too soon. I wasn't ready but I didn't have a choice. This time I do. I've been struggling so badly for 8 weeks. So maybe this setback has actually been a blessing in disguise. I might finally get the time I need to heal.

God, I hope so.