Chocolate V Jeans…

I tell The Husband that I need new jeans.

‘These don’t fit’ I say, showing him my loose waistband.

He looks surprised, like I’ve purposely over-stretched them.

‘I’ve lost weight’ I say.

He raises a suspicious eyebrow.

He is a fitness fanatic and doesn’t overly appreciate my lack of dedication to the cause.

The last time he upset me in regards to my fragile self-esteem regarding my body, he bought me an apology by way of a big block of chocolate!

I didn’t get it, but I ate the chocolate anyway because it was chocolate.

I expect that these jeans will fit soon after all.

I suspect that he has worked out that chocolate is cheaper than new clothes.


Healthy Eating…

I have instigated a new healthier eating plan at home in a bid for us all to eat less meat and more veggies.

As I overloaded the oven dish with sweetcorn, spinach and just a small amount of ham The Husband looked on suspiciously.

‘Ok?’ I said.

‘Hmmm,’ he said, ‘you said you’ve cooked this dish before then?’

‘Yes.’ I said.

‘Oh,’ he said, ‘ummmm and you all survived?’


Breast Clinic Update…

I received the letter to attend the breast clinic on my return from hospital after my surgery to remove my ectopic pregnancy.

The appointment was for 4 days later.

The next day I called the clinic and told the lady I wished to cancel, I explained about the operation and also that I felt that probably the lumps were pregnancy related. I felt that once the pregnancy hormones subsided then the lumps would (hopefully) disappear.

She said that I should still attend the appointment to get it checked, but still I felt like it would still be a waste of everyone’s time. Also I felt weak and drained from losing the pregnancy and emotionally dead.

I probably wouldn’t have cared much if my head had fallen off at the time.

I told her to go ahead and cancel the appointment as I wanted the appointment to be available for someone who needed it more.

The day after the appointment the breast clinic rang.

‘You missed your appointment yesterday,’ she said, ‘we would like you to make another one.’


I explained that I had made sure I had cancelled the appointment as I wanted to make sure that the appointment time could be made available for someone else to make use of.

‘Ok,’ she said. The message hadn’t got through to the right department.


‘Please make an appointment to see your doctor.’ She said.

A few days later the doctor rang.

‘Please make an appointment to come and see me.’


At the appointment the doctor said how sorry she was to hear how the pregnancy ended.

‘I didn’t expect that.’ She said.

‘I did,’ I said, ‘but no one would listen to me.’

‘Yes,’ she said, ‘you said something was wrong didn’t you.’


She gave me a breast examination.

‘All clear.’ She said, ‘no need for referral.’

‘That’s great.’ I said.

‘Are you feeling ok with everything?’ she says.

‘No,’ I said, ‘I feel completely crap.’

‘I’d be very happy to give you a sick note for a while.’

‘No thanks, I have to work. I’m self-employed and a sick note won’t cut it.’

A week later I miss a call and am freaked out completely when a message is left on the answerphone from the doctor’s surgery asking me to call.

‘The doctor would like you to make an appointment to come and see her.’

‘Why?’ I say when I phone them back, ‘I only saw her last week.’

‘Oh,’ she says, ‘for a breast examination.’

‘Another one?’ I say, ‘I only had one last week!’

‘Oh did you,’ she says, ‘let me have a look. Oh yes no problem then.’


The Husband and I go shopping for some garden plants as we’re trying to sell the house, and a bit of colour might help we think.

We get home with several trays of plants.

‘Where shall I put them?’ says The Husband.

‘Just stick them on the table in the garden.’ I say.

‘It’s raining.’ He says.

‘That’s ok,’ I say, ‘they’re plants.’

‘They’ll get ruined out there.’

‘No they won’t they’re garden plants, they’re supposed to like the rain!’

‘Oh ok.’ He says.

After the Operation…

Trigger for pregnancy and loss, TMI.

I awoke in a lot of pain, I don’t know why but I didn’t expect it.

The nurse in recovery promptly knocked me back out with a big dose of morphine.

I woke again and they gave me anti-sickness medication and I asked for a sick bowl.

I was in recovery for ages, I asked if I could go back to the ward but informed that I couldn’t as the surgeon had forgot to write my notes up and the ward wouldn’t accept me back without them.

I asked if the operation had gone as expected – no-one knew.

I asked that they inform The Husband that I was ok, because so much time had passed I knew he would be worried.

Over 5 hours later I was taking back to the ward regardless of my lack of notes.

I asked if the operation had gone as expected to everyone I saw but still no one knew!

I found that difficult, they could have removed all of my reproductive system but I didn’t know, I didn’t know what to think.

The pain continued all day. I was super hungry and ate everything in sight, although my throat was really sore.

The whole day passed without anyone knowing anything about the operation whatsoever. I had questions, how big had the foetus been? Was it alive? Where was it? Is my womb still there? My tubes? Were they mistaken and the baby was really ok after all??

Finally at about 7pm a rather embarrassed nurse returned with some abbreviated notes she had found.

My left tube had been removed. There was no mention that the foetus had been retained, she said she didn’t know I had wanted to keep it. No other details. They still couldn’t get hold of the surgeon and she was the only one who could answer my questions.

I said I wanted to go home, asked that the surgeon phone me when they found her.

The pain was difficult and I was offered more morphine but I decided that I could manage the pain and I discharged myself, I felt bad that I was using a bed when others might need it more. The Husband was overtired and unhappy. I could barely walk but just wanted to get home and away from this situation.

The surgeon called about 9:30pm and I bombarded her with question.

All was ok, she didn’t know I wanted the baby returned (!) said she would do her best but that the lab might not allow it. I felt sick and I hated everybody.

The Husband went to bed and I sat alone, empty inside, and sobbed until I ran out of tears.

The Operation…

Trigger for pregnancy and loss, TMI.

The husband and I sit on our bed, inform the few relatives that knew about the pregnancy and try and rest.

Nice Nurse rings about tea time.

‘Your HCG levels aren’t as reduced as much as we’d have expected so we’d like to get you in now.’

First they didn’t like them because they weren’t high enough, now they weren’t low enough.

That was scary.

I hugged Number’s 2 & 3 goodbye wondering if I might see them again, I feel bad like I’ve let them down to put them through this.

I had no faith in the hospital whatsoever.

We made the trip back in, The Husband was going to stay with me the night and we settled into the ward directly above the maternity wing where I gave birth to Numbers 4 & 5.

A cannula was immediately fitted into my right hand, it was vile and made me cringe. I wish I had given her the other hand as it was difficult to go to the toilet!

My obs were checked and re-checked every hour or so throughout the night.

I was still nervous every time I went to the toilet, worried that I was bleeding again. I kept forgetting that it didn’t matter anymore, it was just me bleeding out, that this was my body failing. I wasn’t losing the baby, the baby was already lost. I was sad every time I remembered.

The Doctor managed to get to see me about ten thirty that evening but I was so tired that I can’t really remember an awful lot of what she said. But she did say that my operation would be in the morning unless any emergencies came in, and that they would try for keyhole surgery but if that didn’t work it would be more like a caesarean type operation and I would have a bigger scar. That they were pretty certain the baby was in the fallopian tube but wouldn’t know for sure until they opened me up, that they would do what they had to do to save my life.

I was told not to eat or drink after midnight.

They had said that they would bring a spare mattress for The Husband to sleep on but must have forgotten or were too busy. We shared my hospital bed and managed a couple of hours of fitful sleep here and there.

A nurse came in at just after 8am to get me ready for the operation, time of operation still unknown. She gave me weird socks and a gown to put on.

I asked if I could have a hospital identity band put on saying who I was, no one had given me one and I didn’t want them to get confused and chop off the wrong bits.

The anaesthetist came in shortly afterwards and I realised the operation was imminent, and I burst into tears every time he asked me a question.

I reminded everyone that I wanted my baby to be returned to me and not disposed of in any way whatsoever. They listed it on my consent form and I signed.

Within minutes we were on our way to theatre. The porter was nice and spoke loudly over my sobs, The Husband trailed after us and we said a sad farewell at the door.

The porter noticed in the theatre that they had filled my identity bracelet out wrong and that my date of birth was incorrect.

‘Oh God!’ I thought.

The anaesthetist held my hand to comfort me and moments later I was out for the count.