I don't even know how to start this. From the beginning, I guess, which will make it long, but I know that some folk out there want the whole story (and I want you to know it!) I could blog it, but I really want to make it available to all so I don't have to relate the story too many times, because it hurts.
My initial hormone levels were quite high when I was first tested at 4 wks. This, combined with my certainty around date of conception and the fact that I'd been experiencing quite a lot of nausea and vomiting, meant that we opted not to have a dating/viability scan at 7 weeks. I went for our twelve week scan on Tuesday. Genetic counselling before the scan suggested that my hormone levels were so low as to indicate a discrepancy of dates or a problem. As a total charting nerd, I knew there was no discrepancy of dates, so I got nervous. When we went in for the scan, it became clear that there was no heartbeat or visible structure within the gestational sac, measured at 7 weeks. There was, however, a full sized placenta, which displayed some cystic spaces, thought to be indicative of a molar pregnancy. (google it if you're feeling brave)
At this stage we were told that the pregnancy was not viable. Completely obvious, but they thought it appropriate to leave a big gap where they didn't speak to us before they mentioned it. The clinic made and appointment for me with my GP, who referred me to the Early Pregnancy Assessment Unit at the Mater. We had an appointment there at 11:30 Wednesday morning, with the expectation that I would have to have a D & C the following day. Thinking that this would be the case, we walked up to the hospital. The EPAU were very supportive and understanding of our situation, and, concerned with the potential of a molar pregnancy, felt it would be best to get me in for a D & C as soon as possible. They booked me in for that afternoon and we waited for a bed. While we were waiting, I had blood tests for HCG levels, which will be the story of my life for a while, I think.
At 1:00 we were shown into our room, and at 1:30 began prep for surgery, which involved a stunning looking hospital gown and some groovy compression tights. Because I was rushed onto the ward, and had never been to the Mater before, there wasn't time for my chart to arrive in the room, so I had to relay the whole story to the midwife, which was very distressing, although she was very kind. It was expected that I'd be wheeled away at 2:00, but we'd been told 3:00, by Rochelle the gynae. So we weren't surprised at all that it was closer to 4:00 when I was taken downstairs. I went into theatre just before 5:00, and woke up in recovery at 5:30, and after that initial confusion over where I was, I felt the pain in my abdomen and I remembered why I was there, and I just wanted to cry so much, but there were no familiar faces around, so I held it in.
I was given oxygen, which was awesome, and then intravenous paracetamol and a hot pack for the pain. The staff were considerate enough to put me in adult recovery where there were no babies, which was a relief. After half an hour in recovery, I was taken back to the ward. I was wheeled in to the room exactly in time for Tour de France highlights, which brightened me a bit, but as soon as all the nurses had left, I just cried. It felt so good to cry. I spent a lot of time just feeling numb and awful, and not able to smile at all. After three more hours of general observations, and once I'd got up to go to the toilet, we were able to go home.
We went down to the cab rank, and I mentioned to DH that I didn't want to get int he first cab, as I had a bad feeling about it (we had a recent run-in with the cab company) But we got in. DH had to give the driver some tips on his driving skills, he was a real leadfoot, and would accelerate right up to the red light and then stop. DH kept saying to him "Go easy, she's just come out of surgery, we're not in a rush" but the guy wasn't listening, so DH got quite short with him. Just a horrible end to a horrible day.
The gynae has told me today that it looked like it was a molar pregnancy, but we will have to wait for pathology results to know for sure. If it is the case, I'll be hanging out with the EPAU a lot from now on. Which is OK, because they've been brilliant.
So that's where I'm at now. I'm starting to take phone calls - those first two days I would just cry as soon as the phone even rang. I can't stand the thought of making everyone else feel sad. Telling people is horrible, but having them know is just great. Some of my friends have been amazing.
I'm in my PJs today - if I'm feeling adventurous later I might get dressed. My eyes are enormous and red, and the skin is just about peeling off my face from being wiped so much (me and my lefto pinko hanky habit) But I'm feeling better with every day.

So, I hoped I'd never have to use this, but here it is...