Item not in stock: Experiences with EPAU.

I think prior to this experience I believed that because pregnancy was a physical change that happened to your body it was pretty black and white as to what was happening whether this was good or bad. Apparently I was wrong and that is one of the biggest lessons I learned from my pregnancy.

In an older post I talk about how I found out I was pregnant. At the same time as this I was booked in for an ultrasound to check that it wasn't an ectopic pregnancy and maybe to double check I wasn't a few months pregnant. As I figured I would be sent home from the scan as I must only be the tiniest bit pregnant I had insisted Husband stay at work. 

I went in for my scan which ended up being internal as nothing could be seen on the normal ultrasound (lets not go into exactly what an internal scan entails, my mother reads this after all).

After only a few minutes the sonographer turned to me and said ‘I’m really sorry I can’t see anything, I think something has gone wrong with the pregnancy. There are some tissues on the side there, you can wait in the reception area and a nurse will speak with you shortly’. She then walked off to her desk to record my scan.

Devastated is only one part of what I felt. I also equally felt embarrassed, humiliated not to mention completely bewildered. I had three tests confirming I was pregnant, I’d had no bleeding, what was going on? I have never felt so vulnerable in my life up until this point. I put my clothes on as best I could and returned to the waiting room. I began scolding myself for ever believing I could have been pregnant, I started to tell myself that I must be so desperate to have a baby my body produced some kind of hormone and tricked all three tests. This sounds preposterous now but it felt very logical at the time. All of a sudden the tears came just to add to the feeling of utter humiliation.

After what felt like hours I was called back in with the nurse. I was not shown a picture of the scan. She explained to me that I had what was called a molar pregnancy and she was very clear that this pregnancy was not and would never be viable. I had no idea what she was talking about, I had heard of miscarriages, missed miscarriages, stillbirth but what on earth was a molar pregnancy? According to her it affects around 1 in 600 pregnancies every year and is a genetic abnormality caused by a faulty egg or two sperm fertilising one egg. To be honest the scientific mumbo jumbo isn’t important. The rest of the conversation I had with the nurse isn’t important, what is important however is that she was insistent that this pregnancy would never develop into a healthy baby. She did reassure me however that I could and would have lots of healthy babies in the future.

Speaking with a couple of friends who have experienced miscarriages I am aware that this seems to be a common phrase to say to women who have experienced or are experiencing the loss of a baby. I’m sure it comes from a good place; people want to reassure you that you will have a family in the future. Although this comes from a good place, here is how it sounds to the women who are going through a loss or how it at least sounded to me.

A life was created inside you and now it is dying or has died. There is nothing you can do to stop it and there is no reason why it has happened. You will have a baby in the future however and forget this one ever existed as you all walk off into the sunset to live happily ever after.  

Wherever you are with your grief the last thing you wish to be told is that you will one day move on. It made me feel dirty, how could I ever forget this tiny life? The first tiny life I created that was so cruelly taken away. For me (and maybe for other first time mums) it took away the wonderful feeling of excitement of finding out you’re pregnant, that no matter how many positive pregnancy tests you get from now on they would all be tainted by this loss.

After this devastating news I still had to walk home, collect my car and pick Husband up from work.

I still had to phone him and break the news to him, how was I going to tell him his baby wasn’t a baby? Even though I knew it was absurd I felt that in some way this was my fault, that I had raised his hopes of becoming a dad only to crush them. I think I phoned him and said ‘it’s not good news’. I can’t remember much else of what happened before getting home and I don’t want to. I do remember being at home sitting on Husband's knee crying my heart and soul out; I don’t think I have felt so awful emotionally in my entire life. The feeling of loss and disgust was indescribable. I felt disgusted and spooked by the idea that there was a strange cystic mass inside me.

Grief changes people, even if it’s only temporarily. I found myself having some very dark thoughts, mainly the thought of wanting rid of whatever was in my uterus. I actually prayed that I would start to bleed and miscarry, I prayed for it as hard as I had prayed to become pregnant.

Following my first scan I had several blood tests to check my hCG levels. One of these blood tests took place at that maternity unit. I sat and waited surrounded by bumps of varying sizes, watching mum and dads to be cooing over the scans of their babies whilst mine was dead or dieing. It was like the worst kind of torture I could imagine. The tests showed that my hCg levels were at a level for a normal pregnancy rather then higher then usual as was typical with a molar pregnancy. I was called back in for other scans which continued to show cysts inside my womb but also showed the firs signs of a developing baby.

 Over the next 4 weeksish I went through cycles of hope and despair, sometimes within 10 minutes of each other. I’m not sure they knew what was going on. In total I think we had 4 early scans, possibly 5. At the time it was like some strange torture but looking back now we had the privilege of seeing our little girl grow from the tiniest of specks into...well, a baby. At one point she looked like a pixelated black and white fried egg on the screen.

At around 6 or 7 weeks we went for a scan with a consultant. I was incredibly nervous. At previous scans we had been told that Alice was developing but there were also cysts in my uterus. It had pretty much ruled out a ‘full’ molar pregnancy but there was still a chance that it was a partial molar.

The scan with the consultant showed Alice was continuing to grow and develop despite the cysts still being there. It was also one of my most memorable scans as the consultant pointed to this tiny white flickering light and told us that it was Alice’s heartbeat. This tiny thing that looked like baked bean had a heartbeat, it was alive. Alice was alive! I have never felt so protective in my entire life. In my mind (although I know it wasn’t quite like this) Alice was fighting all the odds to survive. Her resilience gave me strength that no matter how painful it might prove to be I would not give up on her or the idea of her. I couldn’t believe that only 2 weeks before I had been explicitly told that this was not a viable pregnancy,it never would be and that a D&C would be arranged.

A scan at around 9 or 10 weeks showed that Alice was developing perfectly normally and the cysts had miraculously disappeared. To this day no one has been able to tell us what they were, to be honest I don’t think anyone cares which on the one hand is great but sometimes I think it is rather sad that we were put through such misery for nothing. The cystic structures did need investigating yes, but to inform a couple that the baby they want and already love is lost when there was in fact a chance this wasn’t the case is shocking. I don’t believe they listened to what I had to say about far along I was with my pregnancy, they didn’t entertain the idea that it might be far too early to see anything.

One of the best days ever! The first picture we ever got of our little girl.

Although this experience was a terrible one I did grow because of it and I learned a great deal along the way.

Professionals are human too, they are capable of error and a second opinion should be considered. There is a chance that you will remain disappointed but then nothing is lost. If you ignore your gut instinct and act without a second opinion you could lose everything including part of yourself.

We now call Alice our ‘impossible girl’ because it seems so unlikely that she should be here. I only ovulated on 2 other occasions that year. What were the chances that I ovulated on a day that did not fit in with any other cycle I’ve had before or since, that we just so happened to not use contraception in time to catch the egg, that this egg was then fertilised, implanted and we just so happen to find out early enough for me to start taking care of myself. If we had not gone to Urgent Care that night I would not have done another pregnancy test and we would not have discovered I was pregnant until a few months later when I had an ultrasound to find out why I wasn’t having periods (imagine how embarrassing that would have been!). On top of all of this what were the chances that I would be wrongly diagnosed with a molar pregnancy when there was at least some evidence to suggest this pregnancy would not be viable? Even after all of this the diagnosis turned out to be incorrect and we had a healthy low risk pregnancy ans we now have a healthy, happy nearly one year old.

Alice at 3 months old, her first Christmas. Here she is dreaming of Santa.

Yours sincerely, the Mum in you #3

Dear my angry anxious self,

Hello you.

It's been a while since we spoke.

I get the impression you're not listening to loved ones right now so thought I had better step in.

You are doing great.

Alice is a happy, curious, lively little girl. She didn't get that way by accident. 

She will be one in 2 weeks time and I know this is on your mind. People tell you not to let the events of a year ago cloud her first birthday which of course means you're focused on it more then ever. 

Don't let what happened during labour taint your relationship with Alice. Some women with similar experiences forever feel resentment towards their children and see them as indirectly responsible for their trauma. 
You don't.
You love her fiercely and she knows this.

You often focus on all the things you can't be for her, for husband or for yourself and this leaves you feeling sad and useless. 
Focus on all the things you are and can be right now, the rest will come in time. 

Time will forever move forward whether you like this or not. Things will change, Alice will grow and you will miss this if you continue to the way you are. One day you will look at her and think why the hell did I give a crap about all the other stuff? Why did I waste my time trying to get other stuff done or worrying about things that aren't as important?

Let Alice remind you of all the little joys in life. She is seeing all of this for the first time, it is all new and fantastic for her, let her teach you to see this too. 

And please talk. 

There are people waiting for you to let them in so do it. 

Yours sincerely, 

The Mum in you

The POAS Olympics (That's peeing on a stick for non baby obsessed folk)

This is something I wrote a long time ago not long after I found out I was pregnant. 

Doing a pregnancy test seems to evoke the strangest mix of emotions in women including me. There is the excitement and anticipation the night before (because morning pee is better apparently), the anxiety of the possible impending negative result but also that sneaky bastard called hope whispering 'this could be it!!!’ You get it ready and pee on it like your life depends on it. You lay it down flat and faff about whether you should watch it or leave the room for the recommended number of minutes and then look at the result. I have done both and they are equally anxiety provoking. Whatever you decide to do in that moment you are preparing yourself for your world to change either for the better or the worst. You prepare yourself to be happy and shocked if you see that magical second line appear. You prepare yourself to sit and cry into your Ben and Jerry’s should your test show you that perfect whiteness where you wish that second line would be. The strangest thing for me is that when I DID get that positive, waiting for it felt completely different to all the times I waited and it turned out to be negative. 

I would often do my pregnancy tests in secret because in 95% of knew deep down they would be negative. I am still not sure if my husband knows just how many sticks I peed on. It almost became an addiction, I NEEDED to see that second line appear to validate myself as a woman and prove that there was nothing wrong with me. Seeing that one lonely line caused me to feel like a failure and even though I could rationalise those thoughts and tell myself they were foolish I continued to feel the same way. If the reason I wasn't having periods was because I was pregnant that was fine (and awesome because for some reason I found myself wanting a baby) but if it wasn't because I was pregnant maybe there was something wrong and maybe I wouldn't be able to have a baby in the future. 

This feeling of failure became worse the longer I didn't get my period. Most women who are trying to conceive have the disappointment that their period turns up but then that hope that they can 'try again next month'. I didn't have this. I was in complete limbo and it was such a lonely place. There were times I would have given anything to have a period just so I could feel like a 'real' woman. 

Ironically, when I was actually pregnant I had no idea and didn't believe it when I was told. I had gone to urgent care with the Husband because I was having abdominal pain. The triage nurse did all the usual checks and asked when my last period was. When I told him how long it had been he just looked at me as if it was obvious that I was pregnant. I politely assured him I wasn't, that I had been to the doctors and had a negative test not even a week before. He advised me a pregnancy test was a routine test they carried out and I smugly said to him 'enjoy the pee' whilst leaving the room. After this we went in to see the doctor. 

We hadn't been speaking to the doctor long when the triage nurse interrupted and said 'it's positive for hCG'. It sounds horrible cliché but this is one of the best moments of my life (yes it’s up there with marrying the love of my life). One of the best things about being human is being able to feel multiple emotions simultaneously. In that moment I felt shock of course but I also felt relief, excitement, confusion and embarrassment to be honest. I felt like I wanted to jump up and high five my uterus saying yes! We did it! I also felt embarrassed and confused because I had done a test and it had been negative, what had happened? I thought God these people must think I’m an idiot and I don’t even know how to pee on a stick. 

On the way home I demanded we stop at Tesco for another pregnancy test and cake (it was 3am but hey who cares). I was in full denial at this point and convinced that the doctor must have done something wrong with the test.

I’ve mentioned before about doing pregnancy tests. This one was completely different. I peed on the stick and prepared for the dreaded three minute wait. People often talk about the ‘two week wait’, there’s even forums dedicated to it. I personally think there should be a forum dedicated to the dreaded three minute wait where life as you know it is paused. I sat on the step outside the toilet and waited with Husband. Previous tests I had felt excitement, apprehension but not this time. I’m not really sure what I felt, I just couldn’t believe that I could be pregnant. I didn’t feel different.

When the three minutes were up Husband looked first, he came out and said I could look if I wanted. He wasn’t jumping for joy so I figured it must be negative. I looked and there were two pink lines. How long I had waited for that second little line to appear and there it was!

I told my husband he was going to be a daddy, he told me I was going to be a mummy. Oh God, I thought. I thought about how I see my mum, to me she is still like God, she knows all. She is who I go to when I am happy, scared, sad, angry, she fixes all. The realisation that now some tiny being was going to look at me that way was terrifying. I couldn’t manage my own shit how on earth was I going to manage this new role?

Congratulations on your new job!

Being a God for your tiny human.

Forever.

Shit