This past 5 days has seen me jolted from my happy, excitable, newly-pregnant state to a miserable, pessimistic bundle-of-nerves, on, not one, but TWO occasions.
The surge of progesterone (coupled with the additional dose of twice daily pessaries) has given me all manner of cramps and niggles – most probably due to physical changes in my uterus and constipation (yay). That is fine. It’s what I’ve wanted for 3 years, and I cannot and will not complain about it.
In the early hours of Sunday morning, I woke up with, what felt like, trapped wind (sorry for the detail). The pain was EVERYWHERE and I spent a good hour on the floor in the foetal position and eventually fell back to sleep. I woke up later to discover I’d been spotting throughout the night, and was still in pain.
As is not uncommon with me, I completely lost all sense of reason, and immediately thought that it was game over. My mind immediately went to my sister-in-law, who is due to deliver in 4 weeks, and that I would possibly have to consider emigration as a coping mechanism. Luckily, EPAS (Early Pregnancy Assessment Unit) where I was due to have my first scan later in the week, slotted me in within the hour.
Words cannot describe how it felt to see that little heart flickering away. We both cried. My 37 year old husband sat and wept in the corner of the scan room. We have a viable singleton! They thought that the bleeding was perhaps some old implantation bleeding, or the second embryo’s remains coming away.
There is a part of me that is a little sad that its twin didn’t make it, but when I think realistically to how risky twin pregnancies are, my little singleton will stand a better chance of making it to term without another one fighting for territory in there.
This reassurance was pretty short-lived though…
Last night, a similar thing happened. This time cramping, like period-pain. On inserting my pessary, I withdrew my finger to find pink-red blood on it 😦 The gynae ward, who are the only people contactable out of hours, got me in to the assessment unit this morning. I was seen by a colleague – a little weird, but you are kind of looked after by your own, and scanned.
Our little jelly bean is still there, and is growing nicely in accordance with its 7+4 dates.
They also did a random Beta level – not entirely sure what the point of it is in isolation, but it was 99,000+ which sounds pretty damn good to me.
What was it this time? Trauma from the pessaries? Those pesky follicles rupturing? Or just one of those things?
My instructions have been to basically “use my medic-head”. If the bleeding is not fresh red, or heavy, it ought to be ignored. Nobody has made me feel at any point, like a neurotic woman, but I DO feel like one. Some of the staff and my friends who have had first-hand experience of IVF are fully aware and understanding of the fact that blood = FEAR OF GOD. I guess I just have to try and relax a little, and accept that this may be a semi-permanent feature for the next couple of weeks or so…