I have been blogging somewhat incompletely over the past couple of weeks, mainly because I wasn’t quite sure how to phrase what I had to say.
Now however, not saying it is getting in the way of my real blogging – I haven’t been able to rant about incidental side occurences, or moan about the overall difficulties, and I’m almost past the emotional stage too, so it’s probably time to let you all in on it.
I’m not pregnant. Not any more. I was, briefly, just long enough to be happy and to be starting to not be able to fasten my trousers, and then almost as suddenly, I wasn’t.
I’ve done the weeping and wailing already (there’s a private blogpost in there that will probably stay private tbh) and now I’m at the wistful regret and wish I could move on bit, except I can’t, because it isn’t all over with yet.
So today I had to go to the hospital for another scan to see how things are progressing – sonographer was terribly apologetic as she said it wasn’t good news, and I hope she didn’t take it amiss when I told her I wasn’t expecting good news, I know perfectly well what is going on. I don’t feel pregnant any more, and haven’t for several days now.
So then I was presented with my three choices – general anaesthetic, medical management, or local anaesthetic. I chose option 4 – go home and let it just happen, which I suppose is not quite what the medical establishment prefer (I understand that they like to be actually doing something) as it wasn’t on the list at all. The nurse went back to ask the doctor and came back to say, “yes, we can let you go home.” Interesting terminology, wonder what they were planning on doing to stop me otherwise?
Quick rant as to why the doctor didn’t come to speak to me herself? It’s not as if she was with another patient or anything – we could see her from where we were sitting, shuffling papers in the centre of the ward. Bit odd to be sitting there watching her while the support nurse trotted back and forth!
But there you go. And now I’m going to relocate myself to Meltham and ferry my kids to school to and from Jan’s house while taking it easy and frantically crocheting things for the autumn fayre on Thursday. Normal service will be resumed at some point I daresay.
ps comments are closed, because in this case they really aren’t necessary. All anyone can really say is sorry, and I’ll just assume that’s what you would be saying.
