I had my 20 week scan. It was strange, it was the first scan I've gone to where I knew that the chromosomes were normal. Yet I was still going in with that familiar nervous feeling. The 20 week scan, also known as the anomaly scan, nerve inducing. I wish I could be one of those people for who scans are an exciting event, and something to look forward to. They never will be unfortunately, scans are there to monitor the baby, and the placenta, and make sure everything is going as it should, they're not just designed as a nice treat to get to see your baby wriggling around in there.
It's strange, that week that I found out, it was the first time I was able to properly start to think about the probability that I might have a baby joining us this year. I then had to focus on finishing the first part of my placement, and get my research project completed. The research project was due on 22 April, and I put very little effort into properly getting going with it until after I had my results, and began to work on it then, as my head was just not in the right place at all before that point. So I was a lot behind most people, and although it was due on 22 April, and I had got the results on 25 March, I needed a rest! So the first few weeks after placement I allowed myself the break too. I planned to push through to get it all completed in the week beginning 15 April. Then on 18 April into the following day I started to get concerned that something was wrong, I'm not sure what it was, that was week 17 of my pregnancy, and week 15 was when I first felt kicks, or, well, movement at least. However the movement wasn't very strong, and I hadn't felt a lot over those few days, and was really starting to feel like there was a something wrong. I think it was rooted in part to the anxiety over the possibility of something else going wrong, despite the chromosomes being fine. So I called the midwife unit, and they advised that I go in, so off we trotted in.
Once we got there we were seen fairly quickly, and I was getting more concerned given my past experience of having something wrong and going in. They asked a few questions, then got a doppler out to check for the heartbeat. Couldn't find it. I asked her what it should sound like. She said "That's yours. Like that. But faster." Still couldn't find it. Pressed down quite a lot with the doppler. Still couldn't find it. Then she said she didn't want to stress me out any more, and needed to find out if there was anyone who could scan me. I hadn't realised it was a bank holiday. Great. Left the husband and I to stress and worry and panic and try to and fail to rationalise. Thankfully we were able to be scanned, and it turned out everything was fine, we didn't get any photos from that scan, but she took some head measurements because baby was lying in a good position to do so. Headed home, then contacted uni to ask for an extension, as I knew I wouldn't be able to focus. Thankfully I had already spoken to uni about everything, so they were really understanding. I got my extension until the following Monday 28 April. Great, I really didn't want to need an extension, but everything up to that point had been so incredibly stressful, and although I had had those results that had removed pregnancy stress, it meant that I was able to stress about uni, which meant that I wasn't really able to do uni. Until I got some pregnancy stress back. Then I got my uni work done. Fab!
It was only a couple of weeks later that I had my anomaly scan. Well, it turns out it was a good thing that I had gone in on 19 April, as they asked when my next scan was, and I explained that I hadn't yet had an appointment letter. I think because of the nature of my pregnancy, the usual protocol for requesting my anomaly scan wasn't followed in case the CVS results weren't what we expected, and whoever was supposed to request it once those results came in missed it. Simple mistake, and I was just pleased that we caught it. I probably would have called in week 19 asking why I hadn't received an appointment letter yet, had we not been in. Anyway, they had a look through available appointments around the 20 week mark, and they were able to take me in during week 19. If I'm honest, I was a little disappointed that it wasn't during 20 weeks, because I wanted more growth and optimal measurements, but then, I don't really know how important that actually is.
So 2 May 2019 I had my anomaly scan. First thing we saw was the spine. It was sooo cool!! The sonographer apologised for not being able to get a lovely photograph for us, but I don't know what she was talking about, we got a photograph that most people don't get, with the spine in amazing detail, instead of a fuzzy outline of a head, or arms and feet. I mean, that would have been lovely too, but it was just lovely to get to see quite so clearly how well developed the baby's bones are, as our first baby had (among other things) a cleft palate, so it was just another piece of evidence that things look good. I was leaving and mentioned that I was quite sad that it would be my last scan. The monographer said that I should be thankful that it would be my last scan, as they will only ask me to come in for more if I have something wrong. So that was a lovely way to think about it, but it does mean that if I need to go in for a further scan, I'm going to be even more stressed. However, fingers crossed.
Then I had to get through three weeks of placement to finish off my course, and at the end of those three weeks I had just one more day to get through of uni, and I was done! More importantly though, the week after I finished up at uni, I got to the important week 24. The point where they consider the baby viable if it was born early. Obviously still far too early, and I would be terrified if anything was to happen at that point, however I was very pleased to get as far as there, and had been really nervous getting through those final weeks of placement. Thankfully I still passed that!
So I got through more than half of my (incredibly stressful and intensive) PGDE with a (what was initially considered) high-risk, stressful pregnancy, and passed all the elements that I had to first time. I'm pretty proud of myself.
Now onto the next challenge. No, not motherhood, finding a temp job while obviously pregnant! If I don't meet that challenge, well, the one after that is one that I'm very much looking forward to!
Wednesday 12 June 2019
Monday 1 April 2019
15 March 2019
15 March 2019
Preliminary results came in for the CVS. I had a phone call at 15:48, it was Lesley, the senior midwife who had been there for the CVS procedure. She advised that the baby had two copies of each of chromosomes 13, 18, and 21. The QFPCR (I had to google it... Quantitative fluorescent polymerase chain reaction) results are the early results that just look at the common trisomy chromosomes. So yeah, the best news we could hope for at that stage. I have looked into how they perform QFPCR, from some very quick googling, and it seems that it highlights where 13 is, so there should be two and no more. I'm hoping that it would show a partial trisomy, and again, some quick googling and reading of three or four scientific papers has told me that some partial trisomies have been picked up in the past by the test. So there's that...
By 24 March 2019 I was getting more and more stressed about the results, I had avoided going to my usual exercise class on the Thursday night, usually a massive stress relief for me, but I couldn't face it. I had avoided coaching on the Saturday, mostly because I couldn't face it, and also because I had an assignment due on the Monday morning as part of my Catholic Teaching Certificate. So the Sunday, I was pretty stressed. I had barely slept all week, I wanted all of the chocolate and all of the wine and none of the healthy food that my husband was preparing for me. Unfortunately there's a limit to how much caffeine you can have during pregnancy so I couldn't have that much chocolate, and definitely couldn't have the wine! I couldn't focus on my assignment either, and writing it was going really badly.
The hub was out that Sunday night, a semi-leaving do, as he was moving locations with work. So I had to go to pick him up, and probably could have finished my assignment in the time that it took to get him and two others, and drop the additions home before heading home ourselves for about 22:30. It wouldn't have been very good though. I had a massive meltdown that night. I felt quite guilty about having that meltdown, he'd come in from a lovely night out, he had booze in his system, and there I was crying and snotting all over the place about how I couldn't do it anymore, there was too much stress coming at me from all angles, I couldn't cope, I couldn't sleep, I couldn't do it anymore. I'm not sure what my alternative was, but there you go. I made the decision that I was far too stressed to go to placement the following day, or to finish my assignment that night. I knew it was due at midday, so I had time in the morning to tidy it up. Once I calmed down I did write more, but when I re-read it I realised that it made absolutely no sense, and therefore it made no sense for me to continue with it then. So off I went to bed, with the plan that I would get up, phone school to say I wouldn't be there, contact uni for the same, finish my assignment and submit it, and then, and only then would I phone the hospital to chase for results.
25 March 2019
I handed that assignment in at 11:08, and at 11:13 I called the hospital. A phone call that lasted 7 minutes.
The person who answered the phone initially said that CVS results would be available that afternoon. I then asked to clarify that my results would definitely be part of that, I said that when I had my preliminary results I was told the full results would be "at the end of next week, or early the following" and as it was already early the following I just really wanted to know if I was going to get them that day, or the Tuesday, or the Wednesday... She asked me to hold for a moment and passed me on to the midwife on the ward at the time. The midwife said that she had not initially realised I was calling for full results (most people who have CVS don't do it for the same reasons we did, and the full karyotype just gives extra information, but they've already had the good news.) She asked me my name, and explained that she would have to log in to another email to get that information. I wasn't surprised at that, I used to work in admin, and all the different generic emails make sense, but can at times be frustrating. So it took her a while to get that opened, then scroll through the emails to find one relating to me. I was in the living room at the time, sat on the sofa with my laptop next to me. When she asked me to repeat my name and confirm my date of birth I realised that she had the information there... Terrified and excited and nervous were three of about one hundred emotions coursing through my body at that stage. As I walked through the living room door she said she needed to read it to herself before explaining it to me; I stumbled up the stairs, and through our bedroom door to my husband, as I heard and repeated the news that our baby does not have any chromosome issues inherited from it's father. No un-balanced translocation, no balanced translocation. Baby has two full glasses of lemonade, and two full glasses of beer. The relief. It's hard to put into words.
I cried and laughed down the phone, she sounded quite pleased to be able to give me that information (funny that!) and told me that I should relax and have whatever I wanted, be treated by the husband. I told her I really wanted a glass of wine! Her response to that was great... "well, I can't really recommend that, but maybe a glass of fruit juice in a wine glass?" I laughed and told her it wasn't the same, but I might have a tonic water with a slice of lime and pretend like there's gin in it.
Since finding that information out it has been very surreal. It's coming to terms with being pregnant all over again. It's looking over each of our scan photos and getting excited seeing them. It's starting to look at maternity clothes (and not before time, more than half my clothes are ridiculously uncomfortable already!) I screamed when I got off the phone, I cried a lot of happy tears that afternoon. My body had no idea what had hit it. It was definitely the right decision to take the day off placement.
As the stress lifted, the following day, I developed a headache at about lunchtime. I was able to take a few painkillers and got through the afternoon ok, but as I drove home that evening it got so. much. worse. I have never had a migraine like it. We had dinner, which I barely ate. I wanted more food, but when I went into the kitchen I decided I didn't. I wanted a cup of proper tea, but when I went into the kitchen I decided I felt too ill, and I needed tea with ginger in it instead. The husband left for nightshift as I was finishing my tea. The migraine showed no signs of shifting, despite the nap, the food, the liquids, the lack of movement. I made my way towards my bed, and I think the action of walking upstairs changed something, and I felt really close to throwing up. (I very very rarely throw up.) I was so scared that because of the stress release my body was suddenly going to develop severe pregnancy sickness. Because you know, pregnancy logic... Anyway, I threw up a tiny bit, walked back and forward to my bedroom a few times, then properly threw up. Then I felt amazing. Don't get me wrong, I still had a pounding headache, but throwing up that chicken biryani left me able to move my head from side to side again! I emptied the bedroom bin and put that by my bed and had the best nights sleep I had had in months.
Once that migraine disappeared entirely (it took until about Thursday) I felt amazing. It still feels a little bit surreal. I mean I've only truly been able to accept that I might have a baby this year for about a week. You know those women who don't find out until they're already into their second trimester and they have less time to get their head round the idea of a tiny human totally reliant on them? Yeah, that's me. I knew, but until I got the full CVS results, I didn't know.
I'm going to miss those weekly scans.
Preliminary results came in for the CVS. I had a phone call at 15:48, it was Lesley, the senior midwife who had been there for the CVS procedure. She advised that the baby had two copies of each of chromosomes 13, 18, and 21. The QFPCR (I had to google it... Quantitative fluorescent polymerase chain reaction) results are the early results that just look at the common trisomy chromosomes. So yeah, the best news we could hope for at that stage. I have looked into how they perform QFPCR, from some very quick googling, and it seems that it highlights where 13 is, so there should be two and no more. I'm hoping that it would show a partial trisomy, and again, some quick googling and reading of three or four scientific papers has told me that some partial trisomies have been picked up in the past by the test. So there's that...
By 24 March 2019 I was getting more and more stressed about the results, I had avoided going to my usual exercise class on the Thursday night, usually a massive stress relief for me, but I couldn't face it. I had avoided coaching on the Saturday, mostly because I couldn't face it, and also because I had an assignment due on the Monday morning as part of my Catholic Teaching Certificate. So the Sunday, I was pretty stressed. I had barely slept all week, I wanted all of the chocolate and all of the wine and none of the healthy food that my husband was preparing for me. Unfortunately there's a limit to how much caffeine you can have during pregnancy so I couldn't have that much chocolate, and definitely couldn't have the wine! I couldn't focus on my assignment either, and writing it was going really badly.
The hub was out that Sunday night, a semi-leaving do, as he was moving locations with work. So I had to go to pick him up, and probably could have finished my assignment in the time that it took to get him and two others, and drop the additions home before heading home ourselves for about 22:30. It wouldn't have been very good though. I had a massive meltdown that night. I felt quite guilty about having that meltdown, he'd come in from a lovely night out, he had booze in his system, and there I was crying and snotting all over the place about how I couldn't do it anymore, there was too much stress coming at me from all angles, I couldn't cope, I couldn't sleep, I couldn't do it anymore. I'm not sure what my alternative was, but there you go. I made the decision that I was far too stressed to go to placement the following day, or to finish my assignment that night. I knew it was due at midday, so I had time in the morning to tidy it up. Once I calmed down I did write more, but when I re-read it I realised that it made absolutely no sense, and therefore it made no sense for me to continue with it then. So off I went to bed, with the plan that I would get up, phone school to say I wouldn't be there, contact uni for the same, finish my assignment and submit it, and then, and only then would I phone the hospital to chase for results.
25 March 2019
I handed that assignment in at 11:08, and at 11:13 I called the hospital. A phone call that lasted 7 minutes.
The person who answered the phone initially said that CVS results would be available that afternoon. I then asked to clarify that my results would definitely be part of that, I said that when I had my preliminary results I was told the full results would be "at the end of next week, or early the following" and as it was already early the following I just really wanted to know if I was going to get them that day, or the Tuesday, or the Wednesday... She asked me to hold for a moment and passed me on to the midwife on the ward at the time. The midwife said that she had not initially realised I was calling for full results (most people who have CVS don't do it for the same reasons we did, and the full karyotype just gives extra information, but they've already had the good news.) She asked me my name, and explained that she would have to log in to another email to get that information. I wasn't surprised at that, I used to work in admin, and all the different generic emails make sense, but can at times be frustrating. So it took her a while to get that opened, then scroll through the emails to find one relating to me. I was in the living room at the time, sat on the sofa with my laptop next to me. When she asked me to repeat my name and confirm my date of birth I realised that she had the information there... Terrified and excited and nervous were three of about one hundred emotions coursing through my body at that stage. As I walked through the living room door she said she needed to read it to herself before explaining it to me; I stumbled up the stairs, and through our bedroom door to my husband, as I heard and repeated the news that our baby does not have any chromosome issues inherited from it's father. No un-balanced translocation, no balanced translocation. Baby has two full glasses of lemonade, and two full glasses of beer. The relief. It's hard to put into words.
I cried and laughed down the phone, she sounded quite pleased to be able to give me that information (funny that!) and told me that I should relax and have whatever I wanted, be treated by the husband. I told her I really wanted a glass of wine! Her response to that was great... "well, I can't really recommend that, but maybe a glass of fruit juice in a wine glass?" I laughed and told her it wasn't the same, but I might have a tonic water with a slice of lime and pretend like there's gin in it.
Since finding that information out it has been very surreal. It's coming to terms with being pregnant all over again. It's looking over each of our scan photos and getting excited seeing them. It's starting to look at maternity clothes (and not before time, more than half my clothes are ridiculously uncomfortable already!) I screamed when I got off the phone, I cried a lot of happy tears that afternoon. My body had no idea what had hit it. It was definitely the right decision to take the day off placement.
As the stress lifted, the following day, I developed a headache at about lunchtime. I was able to take a few painkillers and got through the afternoon ok, but as I drove home that evening it got so. much. worse. I have never had a migraine like it. We had dinner, which I barely ate. I wanted more food, but when I went into the kitchen I decided I didn't. I wanted a cup of proper tea, but when I went into the kitchen I decided I felt too ill, and I needed tea with ginger in it instead. The husband left for nightshift as I was finishing my tea. The migraine showed no signs of shifting, despite the nap, the food, the liquids, the lack of movement. I made my way towards my bed, and I think the action of walking upstairs changed something, and I felt really close to throwing up. (I very very rarely throw up.) I was so scared that because of the stress release my body was suddenly going to develop severe pregnancy sickness. Because you know, pregnancy logic... Anyway, I threw up a tiny bit, walked back and forward to my bedroom a few times, then properly threw up. Then I felt amazing. Don't get me wrong, I still had a pounding headache, but throwing up that chicken biryani left me able to move my head from side to side again! I emptied the bedroom bin and put that by my bed and had the best nights sleep I had had in months.
Once that migraine disappeared entirely (it took until about Thursday) I felt amazing. It still feels a little bit surreal. I mean I've only truly been able to accept that I might have a baby this year for about a week. You know those women who don't find out until they're already into their second trimester and they have less time to get their head round the idea of a tiny human totally reliant on them? Yeah, that's me. I knew, but until I got the full CVS results, I didn't know.
I'm going to miss those weekly scans.
13 March 2019
So I had my CVS (chorionic villus sampling) for this pregnancy on 13 March 2019. My husband was on nightshift, so I had to take the bus to the city to meet him. When I lived in Edinburgh I didn't have a car and got the bus all the time. Obviously I'm no longer used to getting the bus, because I realised at 06:33 that I need to pay for said bus, and I don't usually carry cash, because I can contactless everything small!! Bus was at 06:46. Text the hub, he inconveniently called when I was heading out the front door. I ran to the cash machine (further than our closest bus stop) got some moulah, rapido over to the bus stop for 06:41 (thankfully buses in this backwater do give change!) Bus didn't feckin turn up till 06:55!!!
Anyway, once on the bus was texting hubster, and realised I had forgotten my appointment letter. Then he asked if I had remembered my notes! Argh! Clearly I was very stressed about the whole thing. Met him at the bus stop just next to the bypass, and we headed towards the hospital.
Obviously with no appointment letter I didn't know which department to head to. So I go off to find the early pregnancy assessment unit (we've had all our other scans apart from the 12 week in the EPU in the smaller hospital half an hour away.) Turns out my scan isn't there. So we head up to the info point, and someone happens to be signing in as I ask the question - hears my question and says I'm with her, and she'll take me, phew!
She tells me it doesn't matter about the letter, and is surprised that I'm already carrying my own notes, but not to worry.
Then head midwife Lesley arrives and takes us into a separate room to explain the procedure again, she was lovely, but one of the things she said was "and you know the risk of miscarriage is 1-2% and you've accepted that." So that stressed me out. She went off to find our consultant, who had been on nightshift, so was definitely around, but she hadn't yet seen him. She explained that my stomach would be numbed, once on the surface, once below the surface, then a large (she emphasised the large) needle would be inserted, and would act as a guide for the sampling needle, so it would stay in for the duration. She said the sampling needle would go in multiple times (I'm thinking four, but I can't recall entirely, blame the stress for the memory, I don't think I can blame baby brain... yet! :P) We also discussed gender, as the chromosome test can give us gender. I was clear that if there is something wrong with baby, I would want to know gender, however if there is the right amount of each chromosome, I want to make sure that we don't find out. Lesley smiled, noting that it almost gives me something extra to push for when it does get that far down the line. We both feel that we really don't care, we just want it healthy, and it will be a nice surprise either way. Plus, I'm far too superstitious to buy more than the bare minimum for baby before it comes. (the idea of a baby shower to me really doesn't sit well, I respect other people's choice to have one, but I'm unlikely to want to go along to something like that.) So there's really no benefit to knowing the gender, except maybe for helping to name the child.
When we were brought through, Dr. Gordon scanned me to figure out the best site. I think it's standard in my region to carry out CVS abdominally, rather than vaginally, but I'm not sure. I've seen some people on the support group on Facebook stressing because things are happening abdominally due to where placenta is. I think I'd be more stressed if it was happening vaginally, as it would be so much more uncomfortable, and logically, I would think it would be inherently riskier to go that way, as you're puncturing the mucus plug, part of the 'exit route'! Anyway, I was pleased, once again in this pregnancy, that another person was not going to be venturing through my lady garden! That very first scan in January I was sure I was going to need a dildo scan because it was so early.
So, we had that wee scan, and Dr. Gordon explained what was what, I had never realised that the top of the screen was my belly, but he showed that baby was on it's belly, wriggling away, then he moved on to looking at the placenta. I acknowledged that as we get closer to the time of my first miscarriage I get more and more nervous with every scan that we won't see a heartbeat, so I was relieved when he pointed it out. He explained that the placenta was at the back of my womb, but that there was some at the bottom of my womb that was small, and he believed that he would be able to sample enough villi from that.
So off he went, and over the next half an hour (ok, probably 5-10 minutes, but everything feels much longer, doesn't it?) Lesley, a registrar named GG, and Dr. Gordon all came in/back and prepared all the bits and pieces required for the procedure. GG was holding the wand to monitor the needles at all times, Lesley was handing everything to Dr. Gordon, and he was taking the samples, and discussing with Lesley if there was enough taken each time.
They spread a disinfectant/numbing wash over my stomach, well, that was, refreshing!!! (Translation: it was fucking cold!) before starting off, and at that stage I decided to close my eyes. My husband could not hold my hands because of all the people round me, but my hands were, for some reason, scratching both my legs, well, my index finger was sort of scratching my leg, on both sides; I started, I was conscious that I was doing it once I started it, but didn't try to stop myself. I figured it wasn't going to hurt, meh! I did have someone wonderful stroking my hair for the duration, which really helped. I've always been a bit like a dog though, even when there's nothing wrong with me I do love a scratch behind my ears! (My husband, the someone wonderful was my husband, this is the NHS!!!)
And then it was done! GG kept the scanner on to show me (/reassure me) that the amniotic sac still had clear definition round the edges, and I got a wee photo printout of bubs to add to my collection. Dr. Gordon advised me that due to the sample being taken near to the bottom of my womb, it was more likely that I might have some spotting. All the paperwork does warn that you're likely to have some spotting, and also some cramping afterwards, so it wasn't unexpected to hear that. Then was allowed to empty my very full bladder. We made our way very very very very (very) slowly to the car. I did go into the hospital shop for a treat, but decided a treat was not worth the hospital prices! We did go past a Lidl, and I was left in the car while the recommended paracetamol for when the anaesthetic was purchased along with the not so recommended peach loops. Although I was told that I should rest for the next 48 hours and I could have whatever I wanted by Lesley. I stopped myself from telling her that I really wanted a gin!
So the rest of the day was spent on the sofa, napping, television, nothing that will make me either laugh or cry too much. Or anything scary, so basically chat shows and quiz shows. Delightful. I had a call about midday telling me that the lab needed a delivery that there was a delay in receiving, which meant that the early result (looking at the major chromosome disorders, 13, 18, and 21.) might not be available on Thursday, so I may get it on Friday. The full microarray, that will show the full spread of baby's chromosomes, might take around 2 weeks or more. With the chromosomes affected by the husband's BT being 4:13, and trisomy 13 one of the common trisomies that they look at for the early result, I'm hoping the early result puts my mind a bit at ease. However I know I need to wait for the full microarray before I can properly relax. Another thing that will help me properly relax is the pain and cramps going away; although I knew to expect it, it's still disconcerting and worrying.
The strangest thing about it though, is that each morning, the bump shrinks because the muscles had had a rest, and each evening it's bigger as the muscles get tired. Straight after the procedure, the bump had popped right out! My tummy muscles had decided that being stabbed with a ten inch needle was as much as they were willing to take!
And now, we wait.
Anyway, once on the bus was texting hubster, and realised I had forgotten my appointment letter. Then he asked if I had remembered my notes! Argh! Clearly I was very stressed about the whole thing. Met him at the bus stop just next to the bypass, and we headed towards the hospital.
Obviously with no appointment letter I didn't know which department to head to. So I go off to find the early pregnancy assessment unit (we've had all our other scans apart from the 12 week in the EPU in the smaller hospital half an hour away.) Turns out my scan isn't there. So we head up to the info point, and someone happens to be signing in as I ask the question - hears my question and says I'm with her, and she'll take me, phew!
She tells me it doesn't matter about the letter, and is surprised that I'm already carrying my own notes, but not to worry.
Then head midwife Lesley arrives and takes us into a separate room to explain the procedure again, she was lovely, but one of the things she said was "and you know the risk of miscarriage is 1-2% and you've accepted that." So that stressed me out. She went off to find our consultant, who had been on nightshift, so was definitely around, but she hadn't yet seen him. She explained that my stomach would be numbed, once on the surface, once below the surface, then a large (she emphasised the large) needle would be inserted, and would act as a guide for the sampling needle, so it would stay in for the duration. She said the sampling needle would go in multiple times (I'm thinking four, but I can't recall entirely, blame the stress for the memory, I don't think I can blame baby brain... yet! :P) We also discussed gender, as the chromosome test can give us gender. I was clear that if there is something wrong with baby, I would want to know gender, however if there is the right amount of each chromosome, I want to make sure that we don't find out. Lesley smiled, noting that it almost gives me something extra to push for when it does get that far down the line. We both feel that we really don't care, we just want it healthy, and it will be a nice surprise either way. Plus, I'm far too superstitious to buy more than the bare minimum for baby before it comes. (the idea of a baby shower to me really doesn't sit well, I respect other people's choice to have one, but I'm unlikely to want to go along to something like that.) So there's really no benefit to knowing the gender, except maybe for helping to name the child.
When we were brought through, Dr. Gordon scanned me to figure out the best site. I think it's standard in my region to carry out CVS abdominally, rather than vaginally, but I'm not sure. I've seen some people on the support group on Facebook stressing because things are happening abdominally due to where placenta is. I think I'd be more stressed if it was happening vaginally, as it would be so much more uncomfortable, and logically, I would think it would be inherently riskier to go that way, as you're puncturing the mucus plug, part of the 'exit route'! Anyway, I was pleased, once again in this pregnancy, that another person was not going to be venturing through my lady garden! That very first scan in January I was sure I was going to need a dildo scan because it was so early.
So, we had that wee scan, and Dr. Gordon explained what was what, I had never realised that the top of the screen was my belly, but he showed that baby was on it's belly, wriggling away, then he moved on to looking at the placenta. I acknowledged that as we get closer to the time of my first miscarriage I get more and more nervous with every scan that we won't see a heartbeat, so I was relieved when he pointed it out. He explained that the placenta was at the back of my womb, but that there was some at the bottom of my womb that was small, and he believed that he would be able to sample enough villi from that.
So off he went, and over the next half an hour (ok, probably 5-10 minutes, but everything feels much longer, doesn't it?) Lesley, a registrar named GG, and Dr. Gordon all came in/back and prepared all the bits and pieces required for the procedure. GG was holding the wand to monitor the needles at all times, Lesley was handing everything to Dr. Gordon, and he was taking the samples, and discussing with Lesley if there was enough taken each time.
They spread a disinfectant/numbing wash over my stomach, well, that was, refreshing!!! (Translation: it was fucking cold!) before starting off, and at that stage I decided to close my eyes. My husband could not hold my hands because of all the people round me, but my hands were, for some reason, scratching both my legs, well, my index finger was sort of scratching my leg, on both sides; I started, I was conscious that I was doing it once I started it, but didn't try to stop myself. I figured it wasn't going to hurt, meh! I did have someone wonderful stroking my hair for the duration, which really helped. I've always been a bit like a dog though, even when there's nothing wrong with me I do love a scratch behind my ears! (My husband, the someone wonderful was my husband, this is the NHS!!!)
And then it was done! GG kept the scanner on to show me (/reassure me) that the amniotic sac still had clear definition round the edges, and I got a wee photo printout of bubs to add to my collection. Dr. Gordon advised me that due to the sample being taken near to the bottom of my womb, it was more likely that I might have some spotting. All the paperwork does warn that you're likely to have some spotting, and also some cramping afterwards, so it wasn't unexpected to hear that. Then was allowed to empty my very full bladder. We made our way very very very very (very) slowly to the car. I did go into the hospital shop for a treat, but decided a treat was not worth the hospital prices! We did go past a Lidl, and I was left in the car while the recommended paracetamol for when the anaesthetic was purchased along with the not so recommended peach loops. Although I was told that I should rest for the next 48 hours and I could have whatever I wanted by Lesley. I stopped myself from telling her that I really wanted a gin!
So the rest of the day was spent on the sofa, napping, television, nothing that will make me either laugh or cry too much. Or anything scary, so basically chat shows and quiz shows. Delightful. I had a call about midday telling me that the lab needed a delivery that there was a delay in receiving, which meant that the early result (looking at the major chromosome disorders, 13, 18, and 21.) might not be available on Thursday, so I may get it on Friday. The full microarray, that will show the full spread of baby's chromosomes, might take around 2 weeks or more. With the chromosomes affected by the husband's BT being 4:13, and trisomy 13 one of the common trisomies that they look at for the early result, I'm hoping the early result puts my mind a bit at ease. However I know I need to wait for the full microarray before I can properly relax. Another thing that will help me properly relax is the pain and cramps going away; although I knew to expect it, it's still disconcerting and worrying.
The strangest thing about it though, is that each morning, the bump shrinks because the muscles had had a rest, and each evening it's bigger as the muscles get tired. Straight after the procedure, the bump had popped right out! My tummy muscles had decided that being stabbed with a ten inch needle was as much as they were willing to take!
And now, we wait.
4 February 2019
IVF Appointment.
Our long-awaited IVF appointment.
Our first Glasgow appointment had been 6 December 2017, we were told it could be "up to a year" as they needed to create the genetic probe once we got to the top of the list. We got the appointment letter through over a year later, and although it was only a few days into February, mentally that was another month, and it just still seemed so far away.
By the time we made it there, on 4 February 2019 I had known that I was pregnant for 19 days. I had had two ultrasound scans. I was scared that this was another pregnancy that was not going to work out. I went along to get information, to press pause, and to move forward.
I didn't tell the PGD nurse straight away that I was pregnant, she started asking me questions, and as part of IVF they have to know when your last period was, because it can help figure out the timing of the next one, after which they can start treatment. So at the point that she asked about that, my response was "well... about that!" So that changed the course of our appointment. She didn't smile and congratulate us, which was refreshing at that stage, she acknowledged the risks, and said that we would go through the information a little differently.
She explained that the appointment would usually take fresh blood samples to analyse my AMH levels again (hormones that show if you have plenty of eggs or not), and go through the whole process with what happens next. She still did that with us, but potentially focused more on the genetics side of it, to help us to understand the risks a little better. We met with two different geneticists, and the person who explained it best was the PGD nurse. Nurses are definitely un-sung heroes. She explained that with our translocation, we have a 30-50% chance of successful pregnancy resulting in live birth, a 50-70% chance of unbalanced pregnancy resulting in miscarriage, and within that, less than a 1% chance of live birth with severe defects and disabilities.
She showed us the information that came from the team who created the genetic probe, and explained that they use fluorescent dyes to isolate the imbalances that they are looking for. It was really quite interesting, the science behind it all, and I'm sure I'd be just as fascinated if it wasn't happening to me, but definitely a lot more emotionally detached too! I'm not sure if that would help or hinder my understanding though. She had a table of the 16 "options" as it were, and one of the columns had the word "viable" at the top. She explained that those options marked yes were able to be identified in the probe, but they had not been able to create a probe for those marked no. I looked down the list and saw that most of the no options were those with significant amounts of missing material, and not any of the main 4 that I believe are more common, so I was not too concerned by this. I'm not sure if she would have shown us it in that much detail had I been more emotional and reliant on IVF, if I had not been pregnant at the time.
She explained the timings of IVF if we go through it in Glasgow. It all actually seemed very fast. Next period, get in touch, then likely the following, depending on the week that was in it, and if there was a slot available that week, I would start all the hormone injections. Two weeks later I would go in for scans of my ovaries, they would look at how many follicles and recommend (or not) the trigger shot, that triggers the follicles to release the fertile eggs. Then I'd go back and get those eggs extracted. All very medical and clinical and not at all embarrassing. My husband, at the same time, would have to go into a disabled toilet with a cup, and think happy thoughts. Dignified.
Once fertilised, the embryos are left for 5 days to mature, they are biopsied, and then about a week after they are extracted, hopefully one is viable and can be put back in. Then there's the two week wait. Grim.
So she asked if we had any questions, and we spoke about how disappointing the experience had been when we had been for our initial appointment in December 2017. I explained that I had asked about embryo storage of extra viable embryos, knowing that they had already given us statistics, to be told that I should prepare for it not working, and when I asked them to give me the cost anyway, if we were looking at it in a more optimistic way, I was told, essentially, that I shouldn't be optimistic. So with the nurse suitably horrified at that anecdote, I then added that we left that appointment and I wanted nothing to do with IVF in Glasgow, I didn't see the point of us even going there, and wanted to run and jump out of a window. So she said that she would pass that on. I think at the time, of the first appointment that is, I was going with such a logical mind, that was coloured by my emotions, but I knew the chances, to be told to completely ignore the chances as it was unlikely to work, was such a horrific blow and really impacted me in such a negative way for a long time. I was glad that we were able to share that while hopeful that our current pregnancy would work.
The nurse gave us as much time as we wanted, but the appointment didn't take as long as it should have done, had I been starting the process for real. We left and she told us that our case would remain open until we have a healthy, live birth. She asked us to keep her informed of the progression of our pregnancy, and wished us luck with it. I left feeling a lot more positive about our chances with IVF, even though I still didn't really want to do it.
Then we headed to Costco, where one of the samples that day was an amazing lasagne, and I knew I wouldn't get away with going back for seconds. Another sample was gin and tonic, but the tonic on it's own was lovely.
Our long-awaited IVF appointment.
Our first Glasgow appointment had been 6 December 2017, we were told it could be "up to a year" as they needed to create the genetic probe once we got to the top of the list. We got the appointment letter through over a year later, and although it was only a few days into February, mentally that was another month, and it just still seemed so far away.
By the time we made it there, on 4 February 2019 I had known that I was pregnant for 19 days. I had had two ultrasound scans. I was scared that this was another pregnancy that was not going to work out. I went along to get information, to press pause, and to move forward.
I didn't tell the PGD nurse straight away that I was pregnant, she started asking me questions, and as part of IVF they have to know when your last period was, because it can help figure out the timing of the next one, after which they can start treatment. So at the point that she asked about that, my response was "well... about that!" So that changed the course of our appointment. She didn't smile and congratulate us, which was refreshing at that stage, she acknowledged the risks, and said that we would go through the information a little differently.
She explained that the appointment would usually take fresh blood samples to analyse my AMH levels again (hormones that show if you have plenty of eggs or not), and go through the whole process with what happens next. She still did that with us, but potentially focused more on the genetics side of it, to help us to understand the risks a little better. We met with two different geneticists, and the person who explained it best was the PGD nurse. Nurses are definitely un-sung heroes. She explained that with our translocation, we have a 30-50% chance of successful pregnancy resulting in live birth, a 50-70% chance of unbalanced pregnancy resulting in miscarriage, and within that, less than a 1% chance of live birth with severe defects and disabilities.
She showed us the information that came from the team who created the genetic probe, and explained that they use fluorescent dyes to isolate the imbalances that they are looking for. It was really quite interesting, the science behind it all, and I'm sure I'd be just as fascinated if it wasn't happening to me, but definitely a lot more emotionally detached too! I'm not sure if that would help or hinder my understanding though. She had a table of the 16 "options" as it were, and one of the columns had the word "viable" at the top. She explained that those options marked yes were able to be identified in the probe, but they had not been able to create a probe for those marked no. I looked down the list and saw that most of the no options were those with significant amounts of missing material, and not any of the main 4 that I believe are more common, so I was not too concerned by this. I'm not sure if she would have shown us it in that much detail had I been more emotional and reliant on IVF, if I had not been pregnant at the time.
She explained the timings of IVF if we go through it in Glasgow. It all actually seemed very fast. Next period, get in touch, then likely the following, depending on the week that was in it, and if there was a slot available that week, I would start all the hormone injections. Two weeks later I would go in for scans of my ovaries, they would look at how many follicles and recommend (or not) the trigger shot, that triggers the follicles to release the fertile eggs. Then I'd go back and get those eggs extracted. All very medical and clinical and not at all embarrassing. My husband, at the same time, would have to go into a disabled toilet with a cup, and think happy thoughts. Dignified.
Once fertilised, the embryos are left for 5 days to mature, they are biopsied, and then about a week after they are extracted, hopefully one is viable and can be put back in. Then there's the two week wait. Grim.
So she asked if we had any questions, and we spoke about how disappointing the experience had been when we had been for our initial appointment in December 2017. I explained that I had asked about embryo storage of extra viable embryos, knowing that they had already given us statistics, to be told that I should prepare for it not working, and when I asked them to give me the cost anyway, if we were looking at it in a more optimistic way, I was told, essentially, that I shouldn't be optimistic. So with the nurse suitably horrified at that anecdote, I then added that we left that appointment and I wanted nothing to do with IVF in Glasgow, I didn't see the point of us even going there, and wanted to run and jump out of a window. So she said that she would pass that on. I think at the time, of the first appointment that is, I was going with such a logical mind, that was coloured by my emotions, but I knew the chances, to be told to completely ignore the chances as it was unlikely to work, was such a horrific blow and really impacted me in such a negative way for a long time. I was glad that we were able to share that while hopeful that our current pregnancy would work.
The nurse gave us as much time as we wanted, but the appointment didn't take as long as it should have done, had I been starting the process for real. We left and she told us that our case would remain open until we have a healthy, live birth. She asked us to keep her informed of the progression of our pregnancy, and wished us luck with it. I left feeling a lot more positive about our chances with IVF, even though I still didn't really want to do it.
Then we headed to Costco, where one of the samples that day was an amazing lasagne, and I knew I wouldn't get away with going back for seconds. Another sample was gin and tonic, but the tonic on it's own was lovely.
16 January 2019
In a post written on 19 January 2019 I wrote about my past year, my previous losses. I wrote about a friend telling me about her pregnancy, that conversation took place on 12 January 2019. At that time, I thought that that month, I wasn't pregnant, that it hadn't worked. Two days later, I was in a conditioning class, working the core muscles in my back, by lying face down and tensing, so I was balanced on my stomach. I had gained a wee pot belly over Christmas, but I had thought it was gone, and that day I was just thinking that it was supposed to be going, not growing!! I started to get other pregnancy symptoms over the next couple of days, and on the Wednesday, confirmed it!
16 January 2019, finding out about pregnancy number six: Two years, minus one day, since I had my very first 12 week scan. The scan that came back as low risk for Downs Syndrome, the scan that I waited for before announcing I was pregnant that first time.
23 January 2019, I woke up and got into the shower. I was halfway through washing my hair when I started to feel a little pain in my abdomen, pain that got very worse very very quickly, and left me doubled over with it. I called the husband, a couple of times, before I was able to say it loud enough for him to hear me. He helped me out, helped me dress, helped me dry my hair (very fecking badly I might add!!!) and when I called the early pregnancy unit they asked me to come in as quickly as possible. The temperature dropped from -5 to -7 in the half hour drive south to Perth. I had an abdominal scan which I thought it was too early to have, I was fully expecting (but not necessarily prepared for) one of those dildo scans that you see in American shows. Gross. However, unnecessary. They confirmed an intra-uterine pregnancy, identified the gestational sac, and said they were 99% sure they saw a yolk sac. (Human embryos feed off yolks, who knew??) Anyway, it wasn't ectopic. They did see a bleed off the gestational sac, which was explained as implantation bleeding. I had blood tests to test for Human Chorionic Gonadotropin (hCG) and had to wait until lunchtime for the results of that. It was explained that I might be asked to go in on Friday again to have more blood taken. Lunchtime rolled around, I called, and was told the results were in, but they needed to speak to my consultant, and to expect a call back. I called back a couple of hours later, to be told that my hCG levels were over 8000, and I wouldn't need to go in on Friday, but was asked to return the following Wednesday for another scan. Some googling told me that my levels worked for either 5 or 6 weeks pregnant, and they should double every two days. So that wasn't going to be helpful to date my pregnancy, which would be harder straight after a miscarriage. I thought I was 5 weeks and 4 days at that stage, although what they saw in the scan wouldn't have put it quite as far as that, which did concern me. Then I had the added stress of being asked back for another scan.
30 January 2019, I missed a full day of classes at uni, a couple of lectures, and a 4 hour tutorial, because my scan was in the middle of the day, and I knew I couldn't drive the two hours up there for the end of that tutorial.
I didn't sleep well the night before.
We arrived in plenty of time, waited for a bit, and met the same friendly nurse that had scanned me the week before. She had told me her name the week before, and that we had met before, obviously with my first, ill-fated pregnancy. I've forgotten her name!
She put the gel on my stomach, put the wand on, and announced quite happily that she had found the gestational sac. My first response was "I can't see anything in it!" She told me that she hadn't checked all sides, and then said that she could see baby, with a heartbeat. She pointed it out, and as I took a breath in to say "Oh, I can see it!" it disappeared, because breathing makes the belly move too much... oops!
So apparently at that scan I was somewhere between 5 and 6 weeks, so a little earlier than I thought, but baby had grown a lot in a week. She explained that because it's a high risk pregnancy I would get weekly scans, for now. However because of my timetable, I'll have them Fridays, the next one was scheduled for 8 February 2019. Baby measured 2.2mm, and had a heartbeat, that's crazy that they can see that level of detail in something that tiny!
Excited and nervous. Scared and hopeful. Looking forward to getting through this danger period. I can have chorionic villus sampling, which does carry a small risk of miscarriage, at 10 weeks at the earliest. Which is why it's so important that they figure out how far along I am. Pregnancy is dated from your last period, until you have a 12 week scan, when they change it based on baby's measurements. This is based on most women ovulating about 2 weeks into their cycle. It can change after a miscarriage, be later, or earlier. So even though my last miscarriage was very early, it could still have impacted on that, and why I was showing as earlier than I had expected. Chorionic Villus Sampling takes a sample of the villi - part of the placenta, because the baby transfers some of it's blood to the placenta, and they would be able to identify an unbalanced baby. My first miscarriage was at 14+4 weeks, the results of CVS take about 2 weeks I think. I might take this baby further, I don't know. We need to decide what we want to do with testing.
I'm just going to go to my weekly scans and hope to see typical growth, and hope for the best. I have lots of hopes and dreams and wishes. Lets hope they continue with this pregnancy.
16 January 2019, finding out about pregnancy number six: Two years, minus one day, since I had my very first 12 week scan. The scan that came back as low risk for Downs Syndrome, the scan that I waited for before announcing I was pregnant that first time.
23 January 2019, I woke up and got into the shower. I was halfway through washing my hair when I started to feel a little pain in my abdomen, pain that got very worse very very quickly, and left me doubled over with it. I called the husband, a couple of times, before I was able to say it loud enough for him to hear me. He helped me out, helped me dress, helped me dry my hair (very fecking badly I might add!!!) and when I called the early pregnancy unit they asked me to come in as quickly as possible. The temperature dropped from -5 to -7 in the half hour drive south to Perth. I had an abdominal scan which I thought it was too early to have, I was fully expecting (but not necessarily prepared for) one of those dildo scans that you see in American shows. Gross. However, unnecessary. They confirmed an intra-uterine pregnancy, identified the gestational sac, and said they were 99% sure they saw a yolk sac. (Human embryos feed off yolks, who knew??) Anyway, it wasn't ectopic. They did see a bleed off the gestational sac, which was explained as implantation bleeding. I had blood tests to test for Human Chorionic Gonadotropin (hCG) and had to wait until lunchtime for the results of that. It was explained that I might be asked to go in on Friday again to have more blood taken. Lunchtime rolled around, I called, and was told the results were in, but they needed to speak to my consultant, and to expect a call back. I called back a couple of hours later, to be told that my hCG levels were over 8000, and I wouldn't need to go in on Friday, but was asked to return the following Wednesday for another scan. Some googling told me that my levels worked for either 5 or 6 weeks pregnant, and they should double every two days. So that wasn't going to be helpful to date my pregnancy, which would be harder straight after a miscarriage. I thought I was 5 weeks and 4 days at that stage, although what they saw in the scan wouldn't have put it quite as far as that, which did concern me. Then I had the added stress of being asked back for another scan.
30 January 2019, I missed a full day of classes at uni, a couple of lectures, and a 4 hour tutorial, because my scan was in the middle of the day, and I knew I couldn't drive the two hours up there for the end of that tutorial.
I didn't sleep well the night before.
We arrived in plenty of time, waited for a bit, and met the same friendly nurse that had scanned me the week before. She had told me her name the week before, and that we had met before, obviously with my first, ill-fated pregnancy. I've forgotten her name!
She put the gel on my stomach, put the wand on, and announced quite happily that she had found the gestational sac. My first response was "I can't see anything in it!" She told me that she hadn't checked all sides, and then said that she could see baby, with a heartbeat. She pointed it out, and as I took a breath in to say "Oh, I can see it!" it disappeared, because breathing makes the belly move too much... oops!
So apparently at that scan I was somewhere between 5 and 6 weeks, so a little earlier than I thought, but baby had grown a lot in a week. She explained that because it's a high risk pregnancy I would get weekly scans, for now. However because of my timetable, I'll have them Fridays, the next one was scheduled for 8 February 2019. Baby measured 2.2mm, and had a heartbeat, that's crazy that they can see that level of detail in something that tiny!
Excited and nervous. Scared and hopeful. Looking forward to getting through this danger period. I can have chorionic villus sampling, which does carry a small risk of miscarriage, at 10 weeks at the earliest. Which is why it's so important that they figure out how far along I am. Pregnancy is dated from your last period, until you have a 12 week scan, when they change it based on baby's measurements. This is based on most women ovulating about 2 weeks into their cycle. It can change after a miscarriage, be later, or earlier. So even though my last miscarriage was very early, it could still have impacted on that, and why I was showing as earlier than I had expected. Chorionic Villus Sampling takes a sample of the villi - part of the placenta, because the baby transfers some of it's blood to the placenta, and they would be able to identify an unbalanced baby. My first miscarriage was at 14+4 weeks, the results of CVS take about 2 weeks I think. I might take this baby further, I don't know. We need to decide what we want to do with testing.
I'm just going to go to my weekly scans and hope to see typical growth, and hope for the best. I have lots of hopes and dreams and wishes. Lets hope they continue with this pregnancy.
Sunday 20 January 2019
1 January 2018
Everything below I wrote on 2 January 2018, but never got round to actually putting up here.
That's the last milestone since my miscarriage that I had looked forward to... 'before'. The last event that last year I thought about "this time next year" and envisaged a very different time. I think this celebration is even more subdued than what I imagined, and definitely more subdued than last year, when my husband was at work and I was at home, with one alcoholic and one non-alcoholic mulled wine on the stove.
Two or three weeks ago I hit rock bottom. [Shortly after that IVF/PGD/Geneticist appointment.] I didn't want to be here, but thankfully I didn't want to not be here that much that I would have acted on it either. I pictured a Christmas in tears, a New Years in tears, and a feeling of hopelessness. While I am not "looking forward" to 2018 per se, because of the challenges and decisions that I face, I no longer have that feeling. It's not quite a hopeful feeling, but I'd like to think I might make it there in the next few months. I suppose I'm currently hoping for hope.
I don't tend to make resolutions, I haven't for years. I don't think the new year is a good time to try any big changes in my life. I like to think that a change can be made at any time through the year.
Every month in 2017 felt like the previous month. I really did lose a month. The build up to Christmas did not feel like Christmas and crept up on me in a massive way. I suppose in part because we were doing a kitchen refurb (great idea - keep the mind off things! Ha!) and couldn't put the tree up till Christmas Eve. We did carry on with a family tradition with my best friend's family round, and Christmas appeared out of nowhere!
Then Christmas Day, the husband was working, so I got up, had a lovely bath, then sat on my bum watching films. I went back to work on 27 December, and it somehow felt like 2018 already. I got my month back over the course of two bank holidays. I really needed that time.
I called my GP surgery on 13 December to make an appointment because I needed some help, I told my boss [at the time] that I had made an appointment with my GP to discuss my mental health. He wasn't surprised, and asked if there was anything they could do. I think it might have been a switch, I admitted I needed help to a few people, and that was enough, the tears on the drive home from work stopped flowing. By the time I went to see my GP on 22 December, we agreed that asI had a rare 4 days off in a row it might be enough, and I would get a phone call on the day I went back to work, to see if I wanted or needed signed off. I mostly think that I put off even going to the GP because I didn't want work to know any details, given I started in August, and I don't know if I would have taken the time had I been in my old job, although I probably would have broken a lot sooner if I had stayed. I'm glad I told my GP, but I am very glad I didn't need to take things further than that.
It's nice to read that now, over a year later, to see how far 2018 took me. The changes I have seen in my life. I was right when I thought a few more months would give me renewed hope, however the way I was treated at work after that smashed that hope down a little, but it was easier to pick it back up again, because I was able to evaluate what was important, and that was not.
That's the last milestone since my miscarriage that I had looked forward to... 'before'. The last event that last year I thought about "this time next year" and envisaged a very different time. I think this celebration is even more subdued than what I imagined, and definitely more subdued than last year, when my husband was at work and I was at home, with one alcoholic and one non-alcoholic mulled wine on the stove.
Two or three weeks ago I hit rock bottom. [Shortly after that IVF/PGD/Geneticist appointment.] I didn't want to be here, but thankfully I didn't want to not be here that much that I would have acted on it either. I pictured a Christmas in tears, a New Years in tears, and a feeling of hopelessness. While I am not "looking forward" to 2018 per se, because of the challenges and decisions that I face, I no longer have that feeling. It's not quite a hopeful feeling, but I'd like to think I might make it there in the next few months. I suppose I'm currently hoping for hope.
I don't tend to make resolutions, I haven't for years. I don't think the new year is a good time to try any big changes in my life. I like to think that a change can be made at any time through the year.
Every month in 2017 felt like the previous month. I really did lose a month. The build up to Christmas did not feel like Christmas and crept up on me in a massive way. I suppose in part because we were doing a kitchen refurb (great idea - keep the mind off things! Ha!) and couldn't put the tree up till Christmas Eve. We did carry on with a family tradition with my best friend's family round, and Christmas appeared out of nowhere!
Then Christmas Day, the husband was working, so I got up, had a lovely bath, then sat on my bum watching films. I went back to work on 27 December, and it somehow felt like 2018 already. I got my month back over the course of two bank holidays. I really needed that time.
I called my GP surgery on 13 December to make an appointment because I needed some help, I told my boss [at the time] that I had made an appointment with my GP to discuss my mental health. He wasn't surprised, and asked if there was anything they could do. I think it might have been a switch, I admitted I needed help to a few people, and that was enough, the tears on the drive home from work stopped flowing. By the time I went to see my GP on 22 December, we agreed that asI had a rare 4 days off in a row it might be enough, and I would get a phone call on the day I went back to work, to see if I wanted or needed signed off. I mostly think that I put off even going to the GP because I didn't want work to know any details, given I started in August, and I don't know if I would have taken the time had I been in my old job, although I probably would have broken a lot sooner if I had stayed. I'm glad I told my GP, but I am very glad I didn't need to take things further than that.
It's nice to read that now, over a year later, to see how far 2018 took me. The changes I have seen in my life. I was right when I thought a few more months would give me renewed hope, however the way I was treated at work after that smashed that hope down a little, but it was easier to pick it back up again, because I was able to evaluate what was important, and that was not.
6 December 2017
Finally.
Our appointment with the IVF consultant. And the PGD nurse. And the Geneticist. Three professionals, and us.
Difficult appointment, sitting in the waiting room, with the other couples there, knowing that I have experienced something they may not have: pregnancy. Knowing that we all want that.
We had so many questions for that appointment. questions that were not answered, or were answered in roundabout ways.
I wanted to know what would happen with the viable embryos that were not implanted, I was bluntly informed that I should prepare myself for not getting any viable embryos. I reiterated my question, acknowledging that they had already explained that they only had a 26% chance of success, and I was told that they wouldn't talk about that unless it became a possibility. I figured out that obviously the possibility of that was slim.
We were told (in a roundabout way) that once we got to the top of the waiting list, they would start working on a genetic probe, and once that was done, they would be in touch. They wouldn't be able to let us know how long it would take to look at all the possibilities of chromosomal arrangements until they were done. Essentially, in one fell swoop they told us that we would get to the top of the list, but they had a lot to do before they would tell us that that is where we were, and we would stay there until they were good and ready. The second thing we had to figure out from that was that there weren't just the simplified four options that the geneticist explained to us in that first appointment. It took google, and the balanced translocation support group on Facebook to help me figure out that one. Turns out there are more like 16 "options" and only 2 of them viable (in our case).
[In other cases of balanced translocation, involving different chromosomes, or different breaks on the same chromosomes, there may be more viable options, but only two would be genetically typical. Some other unbalanced translocations can survive through birth and beyond, and may or may not have learning difficulties, physical impairment, or the ability to live to adulthood.]
There is a great infographic on slide 22 found here which shows all the possible permutations - a lot more than the 4 we originally understood it to be. In other parts of the slideshow, it shows that at the time of the study (2011), with the 50 people with reciprocal translocations that they worked with, only 16% of embryos came back genetically normal. (It also notes Robertsonian translocation, which is somewhat different to balanced translocation (which is called reciprocal). I don't know as much about Robertsonian translocation, because it doesn't affect me, but I understand that the miscarriage rates are similar, but they don't have as many possibilities for embryos. This infographic does not indicate the chance of each possibility occurring - I think that varies for each person with a translocation, but I am not 100% on that. I get the impression that it's not as high as a 50% chance of genetically typical, but that the main four possibilities have a much higher chance than the next two, which have a higher chance than the next ones... I think I would need to actually be a geneticist and studying it to have an idea of the true chances, as none that I've met have ever felt obliged to share that type of information with me.
The information, or inability to really give us chances, given it really is such a new field of science, (the combination of IVF with PGD that is) meant that we left that appointment none the wiser, and thinking that we would be getting called for IVF in December 2018. It was that information and a lot of google, and a lot of that Facebook group, that helped us come to the decision that we really couldn't be bothered with IVF if we really don't have to, because it's messing with hormones, to prevent a miscarriage at 3 and a half months. Traumatic as that was, it's grim enough having to go through IVF, and we had to wait a year. We decided to give it a chance on our own, because that would be what we would face after our first IVF child anyway, and go in with the risk of that later miscarriage, knowing that most other possibilities wouldn't slow us down too much in moving towards our goal.
I didn't write about that appointment closer to it actually happening because I couldn't get my head round the fact that I had so little information from it; I had hoped to get all the answers, and instead I was given more uncertainty.
I started writing about this because I thought I was facing IVF as the only way to have children, because at that stage I was so terrified of having another miscarriage. I took such a break from writing because I was so annoyed with the IVF giving me hope, and that hope being taken out of my hands, bashed along the ground, thrown through a mangle, held underwater, then given back to me, gasping for breath, battered, bruised, and diminished. I took that hope, and I threw it towards my career instead, got a wee boost there, I threw myself into aerial a bit more, and trained harder than ever, and I've never been fitter. I took that hope and breathed new life into it, nursed it back to a bigger and better place, and we tried again, and tried again, and tried again...
We got a letter from the NHS in between Christmas and New Year 2018, inviting us to an appointment on 4 February 2019 for IVF. Given I'm on my PGDE, I knew long before the letter came through that I would be going to that appointment to "press pause" so to speak on IVF until after May. As I have written before, the stress of each thing has helped distract from the stress of the other; it's nice to get that letter and have another thing to focus on, so I am not placing too much hope in it. I'm hoping that my renewed hope does not need to be faced with IVF by then, but only time will tell!
Our appointment with the IVF consultant. And the PGD nurse. And the Geneticist. Three professionals, and us.
Difficult appointment, sitting in the waiting room, with the other couples there, knowing that I have experienced something they may not have: pregnancy. Knowing that we all want that.
We had so many questions for that appointment. questions that were not answered, or were answered in roundabout ways.
I wanted to know what would happen with the viable embryos that were not implanted, I was bluntly informed that I should prepare myself for not getting any viable embryos. I reiterated my question, acknowledging that they had already explained that they only had a 26% chance of success, and I was told that they wouldn't talk about that unless it became a possibility. I figured out that obviously the possibility of that was slim.
We were told (in a roundabout way) that once we got to the top of the waiting list, they would start working on a genetic probe, and once that was done, they would be in touch. They wouldn't be able to let us know how long it would take to look at all the possibilities of chromosomal arrangements until they were done. Essentially, in one fell swoop they told us that we would get to the top of the list, but they had a lot to do before they would tell us that that is where we were, and we would stay there until they were good and ready. The second thing we had to figure out from that was that there weren't just the simplified four options that the geneticist explained to us in that first appointment. It took google, and the balanced translocation support group on Facebook to help me figure out that one. Turns out there are more like 16 "options" and only 2 of them viable (in our case).
[In other cases of balanced translocation, involving different chromosomes, or different breaks on the same chromosomes, there may be more viable options, but only two would be genetically typical. Some other unbalanced translocations can survive through birth and beyond, and may or may not have learning difficulties, physical impairment, or the ability to live to adulthood.]
There is a great infographic on slide 22 found here which shows all the possible permutations - a lot more than the 4 we originally understood it to be. In other parts of the slideshow, it shows that at the time of the study (2011), with the 50 people with reciprocal translocations that they worked with, only 16% of embryos came back genetically normal. (It also notes Robertsonian translocation, which is somewhat different to balanced translocation (which is called reciprocal). I don't know as much about Robertsonian translocation, because it doesn't affect me, but I understand that the miscarriage rates are similar, but they don't have as many possibilities for embryos. This infographic does not indicate the chance of each possibility occurring - I think that varies for each person with a translocation, but I am not 100% on that. I get the impression that it's not as high as a 50% chance of genetically typical, but that the main four possibilities have a much higher chance than the next two, which have a higher chance than the next ones... I think I would need to actually be a geneticist and studying it to have an idea of the true chances, as none that I've met have ever felt obliged to share that type of information with me.
The information, or inability to really give us chances, given it really is such a new field of science, (the combination of IVF with PGD that is) meant that we left that appointment none the wiser, and thinking that we would be getting called for IVF in December 2018. It was that information and a lot of google, and a lot of that Facebook group, that helped us come to the decision that we really couldn't be bothered with IVF if we really don't have to, because it's messing with hormones, to prevent a miscarriage at 3 and a half months. Traumatic as that was, it's grim enough having to go through IVF, and we had to wait a year. We decided to give it a chance on our own, because that would be what we would face after our first IVF child anyway, and go in with the risk of that later miscarriage, knowing that most other possibilities wouldn't slow us down too much in moving towards our goal.
I didn't write about that appointment closer to it actually happening because I couldn't get my head round the fact that I had so little information from it; I had hoped to get all the answers, and instead I was given more uncertainty.
I started writing about this because I thought I was facing IVF as the only way to have children, because at that stage I was so terrified of having another miscarriage. I took such a break from writing because I was so annoyed with the IVF giving me hope, and that hope being taken out of my hands, bashed along the ground, thrown through a mangle, held underwater, then given back to me, gasping for breath, battered, bruised, and diminished. I took that hope, and I threw it towards my career instead, got a wee boost there, I threw myself into aerial a bit more, and trained harder than ever, and I've never been fitter. I took that hope and breathed new life into it, nursed it back to a bigger and better place, and we tried again, and tried again, and tried again...
We got a letter from the NHS in between Christmas and New Year 2018, inviting us to an appointment on 4 February 2019 for IVF. Given I'm on my PGDE, I knew long before the letter came through that I would be going to that appointment to "press pause" so to speak on IVF until after May. As I have written before, the stress of each thing has helped distract from the stress of the other; it's nice to get that letter and have another thing to focus on, so I am not placing too much hope in it. I'm hoping that my renewed hope does not need to be faced with IVF by then, but only time will tell!
Saturday 19 January 2019
21 August 2017
I last published anything here one year and ten days ago. Everything still felt very fresh, and my perspective at that time was somewhat skewed. I wrote of a job that was "better" than the one I had at the time of my first miscarriage. A job that were I to describe it now, I would say was less of a frying pan to fire scenario, and more of a fire to frying pan scenario. A job that I started on 21 August 2017. It was an improvement, however a number of incidents during my employment meant that it was still on the heat. The threats and abuse that I received from a customer over the phone was laughed off by my co-"workers"; every request for a contract was met with a promise that it would be given soon. This turned out to be a good thing. In the UK, there's no legal requirement for a contract, but there is a requirement for a written statement of terms, within two months of starting work.
I last published anything on here one year and ten days ago. A lot has happened since that time, and my perspective has changed somewhat. I wrote of "next time", referring to future pregnancies. I wrote of work, and I wrote of genetics appointments.
Lets start with changes in work:
My need to get away from a place that initially promised me "occasional weekend working" and "for events" only to hit me with every Saturday in December and full days, meant that I was spurred to try to apply to get into teaching again. I had a few days at home around Christmas where I put together an application and was offered interviews to 2 institutions. One on 19 January 2017, thankfully I had a midweek day off that worked for me, as I yet again had another "event" that wasn't a proper event that I had to work a weekend day for. The second on 25 January 2018, I called in sick for that one. The only time in my life I've ever been off work illegitimately. It was worth it. On 2 February 2018 I found out I had been accepted to that university to study for a "Professional Graduate Diploma in Education." (I always thought it stood for post-grad!)
19 March 2018
Another positive pregnancy test. Pregnancy number two. Hope, Joy, Dreams for the future.
We had decided to start trying again naturally, not to wait for IVF. After an appointment in December 2017 left us a bit more befuddled and distraught about our options, and we worked things out in our heads. So we tried again naturally, and hit the bullseye first try again. I knew before I took the test, knew for a while.
That pregnancy wound up lasting 10 days.
We had agreed to try the following month, and then hold off until after I had started my course. My employers had other ideas however. After my second miscarriage (which they were aware of) they tried to change my terms of employment, without my consent, and with immediate notice, to rotational 7 day working - and put me on the rota for every weekend for the foreseeable future. Obviously I fought that. It was quite helpful that I had not been given a statement of terms, or a contract. I was right. I had a few meetings with my managers, none with any notice, a few where I ended up in tears, admitting things I didn't truly believe. I was made redundant. "The business is moving towards the leisure market, and away from conference business, which is why you were taken on, and why we need to let you go." Ha! At least they gave me £1000 on top of my notice pay. I drove away that Monday morning laughing ecstatically.
Unfortunately the stress around my job, and not being able to afford to hand in notice without another job to go into, meant that we didn't really try to get pregnant that month, our half-hearted attempts resulted in a period appearing during my brief unemployment period. I managed to find a temp job relatively quickly, I hadn't told them initially that I wouldn't be staying, I was bitten too many times by employers, and didn't want to risk it. It didn't take long to start telling people there that I was leaving to study, nor did it take long to tell people the difficulties I face with conception. I almost wanted to stay, except for really wanting a more fulfilling career. I would however like to return in the summer break after my one year at uni. It turns out, that job, and my unhappiness in it, pushed me to re-applying to teaching, and moved me to a much better (albeit temporary) job, where I made some very good friends. Had that very first pregnancy worked out, I'm not sure I would have given the same effort to my application process, I'm not sure I would have been able to.
20 August 2018 I started uni.
8 September 2018 I attended my best friend's wedding, I didn't drink a lot, but probably a little more than I normally would, and realised shortly after that I was pregnant. I lost that one on 12 September 2018, my best friend's 30th birthday.
24 October 2018 and 5 December 2018 gave me two more losses. None of my four more recent pregnancies lasted long, however we were told by that geneticist back in July 2017 that given where on the chromosomes the breaks were, it was unlikely that any unbalanced possibility (besides that which we had in our first pregnancy) would make it to a positive pregnancy test. So actually knowing about them has amazed me, how quickly I find out about my pregnancies, and notice symptoms.
It's difficult to condense the previous year into a few paragraphs. My mental health has massively improved over the past year though, even with all that. I think because I have been able to come to terms with our new normal. Each loss is difficult, but I'm able to rationalise that this child, this life, was never meant to be.
Each life, when I know that it has been created, gives me joy, gives me hope. That's the hardest part of each pregnancy, it's not the loss. It's not being able to share that joy, share those dreams of a life with our family and friends. The next hardest part is that with each pregnancy it's hard not to feel disappointed, disappointed that I have to have that niggly thought at the back of my head, that I can't relax, that I must start to worry, to pay attention to every little thing and question it. I will never again feel like I did with my first pregnancy, the joy and the hope is now tangled up with fear, but with each loss, hope still wins.
With my first pregnancy, I did the done thing, I didn't tell anyone about the baby until after our 12 week scan. Except for family, who we couldn't hide it from, given they were visiting over Christmas! I then had to pull that joy back. Change that great news for the news of an altered future. Since we found out about the balanced translocation my viewpoint has changed. I want to share my joy, I want to scream it from the rooftops. I want people to know that I am growing a whole other human, and I have dreams for my future with them, for their future with siblings, for our future as a family, and for their life beyond childhood. I hope that they do not share my husband's balanced translocation, but are as lucky as my husband's sister, who is clear of it, and has her third child on the way! I have been very open about our struggles to create a family, and my husband and I discussed last year that with any future pregnancy, we would rather share our joy early. Although we know that we have a much higher risk of loss than most, we want to share that joy. There are hopes and dreams for so many miscarried babies that are never shared, I wish we didn't have to keep that grief so private, as it's such a difficult and unusual form of grief.
I wish people could share pregnancy news and it would be normal to acknowledge that there needs to be luck wished towards the pregnancy, that there was no unwritten rule to wait until 12 weeks. I wish people could share it when it suits them, and people don't question when they share it. I know a couple of people who don't like to share widely until much later than that, and those who want to share earlier but feel that they can't. I know someone who last year didn't share because she wasn't sure if the baby was going to survive, yet it was a planned for pregnancy, why should she feel fear about sharing that news? No one hides the news that their terminally ill relative/friend has only a few days/weeks/months to live, they share, and they receive emotional support. Why are so many women denied this? Why should the mothers and fathers suffer in silence?
I don't bring up my miscarriages with my friends often, I don't hide them, but I honestly have no idea which friends know about which ones. It's not exactly something you chat about during a trip to the cinema, is it?
I had another friend tell me about a pregnancy recently, due around the same sort of time as my sister-in-law. She phoned, she admitted she wasn't sure about how to tell me. I wrote about that before, in a post dated 2 June 2017, with two other friends. It's hard to know how to share happy news with someone who you know wants to be able to share the same kind of news. I wish my friends did not feel like they have to dilute their joy for me. Even my sister-in-law wasn't sure how to share the news with us. It's fantastic news, don't dilute it at all!
I'm halfway through my PGDE, I've passed the first two parts, two more to go. I am going through a course that's known to be very stressful. I have had a lot of miscarriages since I started that course. Funnily enough, the stress of each helps distract from the stress of the other.
I'm happy. I have a lot of joy in my life.
I last published anything on here one year and ten days ago. A lot has happened since that time, and my perspective has changed somewhat. I wrote of "next time", referring to future pregnancies. I wrote of work, and I wrote of genetics appointments.
Lets start with changes in work:
My need to get away from a place that initially promised me "occasional weekend working" and "for events" only to hit me with every Saturday in December and full days, meant that I was spurred to try to apply to get into teaching again. I had a few days at home around Christmas where I put together an application and was offered interviews to 2 institutions. One on 19 January 2017, thankfully I had a midweek day off that worked for me, as I yet again had another "event" that wasn't a proper event that I had to work a weekend day for. The second on 25 January 2018, I called in sick for that one. The only time in my life I've ever been off work illegitimately. It was worth it. On 2 February 2018 I found out I had been accepted to that university to study for a "Professional Graduate Diploma in Education." (I always thought it stood for post-grad!)
19 March 2018
Another positive pregnancy test. Pregnancy number two. Hope, Joy, Dreams for the future.
We had decided to start trying again naturally, not to wait for IVF. After an appointment in December 2017 left us a bit more befuddled and distraught about our options, and we worked things out in our heads. So we tried again naturally, and hit the bullseye first try again. I knew before I took the test, knew for a while.
That pregnancy wound up lasting 10 days.
We had agreed to try the following month, and then hold off until after I had started my course. My employers had other ideas however. After my second miscarriage (which they were aware of) they tried to change my terms of employment, without my consent, and with immediate notice, to rotational 7 day working - and put me on the rota for every weekend for the foreseeable future. Obviously I fought that. It was quite helpful that I had not been given a statement of terms, or a contract. I was right. I had a few meetings with my managers, none with any notice, a few where I ended up in tears, admitting things I didn't truly believe. I was made redundant. "The business is moving towards the leisure market, and away from conference business, which is why you were taken on, and why we need to let you go." Ha! At least they gave me £1000 on top of my notice pay. I drove away that Monday morning laughing ecstatically.
Unfortunately the stress around my job, and not being able to afford to hand in notice without another job to go into, meant that we didn't really try to get pregnant that month, our half-hearted attempts resulted in a period appearing during my brief unemployment period. I managed to find a temp job relatively quickly, I hadn't told them initially that I wouldn't be staying, I was bitten too many times by employers, and didn't want to risk it. It didn't take long to start telling people there that I was leaving to study, nor did it take long to tell people the difficulties I face with conception. I almost wanted to stay, except for really wanting a more fulfilling career. I would however like to return in the summer break after my one year at uni. It turns out, that job, and my unhappiness in it, pushed me to re-applying to teaching, and moved me to a much better (albeit temporary) job, where I made some very good friends. Had that very first pregnancy worked out, I'm not sure I would have given the same effort to my application process, I'm not sure I would have been able to.
20 August 2018 I started uni.
8 September 2018 I attended my best friend's wedding, I didn't drink a lot, but probably a little more than I normally would, and realised shortly after that I was pregnant. I lost that one on 12 September 2018, my best friend's 30th birthday.
24 October 2018 and 5 December 2018 gave me two more losses. None of my four more recent pregnancies lasted long, however we were told by that geneticist back in July 2017 that given where on the chromosomes the breaks were, it was unlikely that any unbalanced possibility (besides that which we had in our first pregnancy) would make it to a positive pregnancy test. So actually knowing about them has amazed me, how quickly I find out about my pregnancies, and notice symptoms.
It's difficult to condense the previous year into a few paragraphs. My mental health has massively improved over the past year though, even with all that. I think because I have been able to come to terms with our new normal. Each loss is difficult, but I'm able to rationalise that this child, this life, was never meant to be.
Each life, when I know that it has been created, gives me joy, gives me hope. That's the hardest part of each pregnancy, it's not the loss. It's not being able to share that joy, share those dreams of a life with our family and friends. The next hardest part is that with each pregnancy it's hard not to feel disappointed, disappointed that I have to have that niggly thought at the back of my head, that I can't relax, that I must start to worry, to pay attention to every little thing and question it. I will never again feel like I did with my first pregnancy, the joy and the hope is now tangled up with fear, but with each loss, hope still wins.
With my first pregnancy, I did the done thing, I didn't tell anyone about the baby until after our 12 week scan. Except for family, who we couldn't hide it from, given they were visiting over Christmas! I then had to pull that joy back. Change that great news for the news of an altered future. Since we found out about the balanced translocation my viewpoint has changed. I want to share my joy, I want to scream it from the rooftops. I want people to know that I am growing a whole other human, and I have dreams for my future with them, for their future with siblings, for our future as a family, and for their life beyond childhood. I hope that they do not share my husband's balanced translocation, but are as lucky as my husband's sister, who is clear of it, and has her third child on the way! I have been very open about our struggles to create a family, and my husband and I discussed last year that with any future pregnancy, we would rather share our joy early. Although we know that we have a much higher risk of loss than most, we want to share that joy. There are hopes and dreams for so many miscarried babies that are never shared, I wish we didn't have to keep that grief so private, as it's such a difficult and unusual form of grief.
I wish people could share pregnancy news and it would be normal to acknowledge that there needs to be luck wished towards the pregnancy, that there was no unwritten rule to wait until 12 weeks. I wish people could share it when it suits them, and people don't question when they share it. I know a couple of people who don't like to share widely until much later than that, and those who want to share earlier but feel that they can't. I know someone who last year didn't share because she wasn't sure if the baby was going to survive, yet it was a planned for pregnancy, why should she feel fear about sharing that news? No one hides the news that their terminally ill relative/friend has only a few days/weeks/months to live, they share, and they receive emotional support. Why are so many women denied this? Why should the mothers and fathers suffer in silence?
I don't bring up my miscarriages with my friends often, I don't hide them, but I honestly have no idea which friends know about which ones. It's not exactly something you chat about during a trip to the cinema, is it?
I had another friend tell me about a pregnancy recently, due around the same sort of time as my sister-in-law. She phoned, she admitted she wasn't sure about how to tell me. I wrote about that before, in a post dated 2 June 2017, with two other friends. It's hard to know how to share happy news with someone who you know wants to be able to share the same kind of news. I wish my friends did not feel like they have to dilute their joy for me. Even my sister-in-law wasn't sure how to share the news with us. It's fantastic news, don't dilute it at all!
I'm halfway through my PGDE, I've passed the first two parts, two more to go. I am going through a course that's known to be very stressful. I have had a lot of miscarriages since I started that course. Funnily enough, the stress of each helps distract from the stress of the other.
I'm happy. I have a lot of joy in my life.
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