Worst Birthday Ever…

Following post may be a trigger for some and also contains TMI.

On My Birthday…
After speaking with the Doctor The Husband and I go to the EPU for some reassurance.

I take yet another test ( a digital) before I go and it reads Yes+, so I decide we’re good to go, but I feel nervous and desperate to find out what is going on in my (way too old) body.
We wait patiently until at last the Doctor calls us in, I pass over my sample and she re-tests it.

‘It’s negative.’ She says.

‘No it’s not.’ I say.

‘Yes it is.’ She says

‘No it’s not,’ I say, ‘let me see.’

She passes the 3 tests over, we look them over. The Husband looks as puzzled as I do.

‘There is 2 (clear) lines on each?’ I say.

‘It’s over the time limit now.’ She says.

I have seen many negative pregnancy tests in my time and these are not negative.
I eye the Doctor suspiciously, she continues.

‘Well you possibly were pregnant,’ she says with a shrug, ‘but you aren’t anymore and considering your blood loss you’ve probably lost it.’

‘I haven’t lost it,’ I exclaim, ‘there was slight loss of something but it wasn’t blood?’

She looks at me like I’m a lunatic.

‘Then you’ll have a bleed soon.’

‘How would you know that!!!?’ I say. I explain the drama of the past 3 cycles and at how worried I am.

‘I’d like you to have a look to check.’
I am afraid now because a Doctor working in an EPU can’t seem to read a pregnancy test.

‘No,’ she says, ‘there will be nothing there.’

‘That’s fine I say, but I just need to know?’

‘No,’ she says, ‘the lines were too faint for there to be anything there. I will call the nurse in for a second opinion.’

So the lines were there but faint? So they were positive then, and not negative??? Surely they mean two completely different things.
She returns without the nurse.

‘She’s busy at the moment. She says.

We initiate an uneasy standoff and the 3 of us sit in silence for a moment, I’m more than astonished at what is going on.

‘I haven’t lost the baby as I haven’t suffered a loss, there had been no blood, not even period like, the baby is still in there and I also know that something isn’t right. I need you to take a proper look.’ I say close to tears. ‘It’s not like I haven’t done this before,’ I say, ‘I’ve had 5 pregnancies.’

She smiles like I’m deluded, ‘I’ll go and see if the nurse is free now.’ She says.

‘Don’t bother.’ I say and I walk out the door.

I stomp the length of the hospital under a cloud of expletives.

‘What do we do now?’ says The Husband.

‘No idea.’ I say.

Spider Hop!…

Number 2 didn’t arrive home at the expected time. He doesn’t really have to as he’s an adult now but I still like to know where he is and what time he’ll be home. I wait until nearly 11pm then I text him.

‘Ok?’ I say.

‘Yes,’ he says, ‘I’m staying at 2 + 1’s tonight.’

‘Oh ok,’ I say, ‘have a nice time and I’ll see you tomorrow then.’

‘Ok.’ He says.

I start drifting off, 15 minutes later I hear the unmistakable roar of his car outside and then heavy footsteps up the stairs.

‘Ok?’ I call out.

He doesn’t hear me so I text instead.


‘Yes, there was a spider in the bedroom, we couldn’t stay there so we thought we’d stay here instead.’

‘Oh ok.’ I said.

Where it started to go wrong…

I phone the doctor to help me confirm my dates as research has now suggested anywhere between 4 weeks and 6 weeks 2 days.

I give her the necessary cycle information as to which she replies, ‘really?’ with shock.

‘Yes really.’ I say

I feel the need to defend my exceedingly short cycles even though previous doctors have said they were perfectly fine.

‘Oh’ she says, ‘our dating method is only really accurate for regular cycles.’

‘Oh’ I say, ‘I have never had a regular cycle.’

‘Oh’ she says, ‘well if your cycle is genuinely what you say then you are probably 6 weeks.’

Genuinely what I say!!

(No, no, I thought I’d just give you a call to talk some nonsense!!!)

I bite my tongue.

‘If you have a regular cycle then you will be 4 weeks.’ She says.

‘Super,’ I say with a mouthful of clamped tongue, ‘thank you so much.’

The Start in a Muddle of Unfortunate Events…

So my pregnancy didn’t go as planned and I will be adding my diary of events on my blog because I want to get it off my chest, and as it was a catalogue of disasters my record may (somehow, perhaps) help someone else, so please don’t read if they might be a trigger for you or if you prefer reading happier things. I will return to happy posts in-between. These posts will most certainly contain TMI.

And it starts here…

There is blood.
Not the usual sort and not much but it’s still there, something sort of, but in a weirder form.

The Husband is not alarmed.

The Bestie offers some theories.

I feel panicked and queasy.

I put myself to bed and fall asleep in half a second.

So I have spots, blood and milk. I am exhausted to the extent that I can’t even be bother to think.

The cause – something only a few weeks old and that, apparently, is the size of a poppy seed.

I wonder what it will be able to do by the time its 18 because it’s really clever so far!


Before it all went bad…

I look online at pregnancy calculators to see what date said baby is due.

I am, apparently, 4 weeks pregnant on one site, 5 weeks and 4 days on another site and somewhere between the two on another 5 sites. I think they have the month right so we’ll just head for that I guess.

So, I have approximately 8 months to find another bedroom lurking in the house somewhere that I have not yet come across.

So much for my spectacular ‘We’re having a Baby’ announcement.

The Husband was as unimpressed by the (glaringly obvious) blue lines on the tests as he was with the other 12000 negative tests before them.

‘I won’t believe it until I see it.’ He says.

‘See what?’ I say.

‘The baby.’ He says.

I show him the Digital test with the word ‘pregnant’ displayed in the window.

‘What does that mean?’ he says.

The Husband has quickly learnt not to upset an emotionally fraught pregnant woman. He has learnt that if he does can expect a reaction similar to that of taking a packet of crisps off of a really big Polar Bear.

Love Hurts…

Number 2 and Number 2 + 1 have had a row.

I tried to not get involved but they both kept hovering around me for something – for what exactly I’m not sure of as I know they both wanted me to stay out of it but they wouldn’t go away!

I try to mediate for 30 seconds, jumping from one view point to the other but it’s not helpful.

They both stomp around the house sulking like they own it, or at least are contributing to the mortgage.

I quietly make tea.

‘I don’t want any.’ Snaps Number 2 but takes his seat at the table anyway.

6 seated at the table. No one speaks, all too afraid that we might tip the balance.

The Husband and I eat in silence at our own kitchen table, in our own house, with heads bowed like naughty school children.

Number 2 + 1 can’t eat and she looks close to tears, she storms off to her house a short while later.

An hour later the issue has been resolved and she’s back, and we all breathe a sigh of relief and I’m grateful to get into bed!