Tag Archives: miscarriage

This week we had a major scare.  Late Tuesday night I began passing lots of bright red blood.  We visited the maternity hospital, however by the time we arrived I’d stopped bleeding and after a speculum examination the doctor was unable to determine the reason for the bleed.   They performed a trace of the baby’s heartbeat and seemed happy enough that it was a healthy rate and so at 4am they attributed the bleed to my ectropian cervix & let me go home.  At 8am I woke up for work and went to the toilet.  I hadn’t bled overnight but when I stood up after using the toilet I began to bleed all over the floor.  I quickly put a pad onto my knickers and rang the hospital.  “It’s probably the ectropian again” they said “but come in just to be sure”.  By the time I’d walked into the bedroom to tell The Boy I’d soaked my way through the sanitary towel and was bleeding all over the place.  In my daze I didn’t think to check which hospital I should go to and assumed it was the one nearest to me as the antenatal assessment unit (AAU) was open from 8am.  We eventually arrived at the AAU (rush hour was definitely not on our side), only to be informed that I’d made a mistake – emergencies such as this had to be seen at the maternity hospital, not my local AAU, as they didn’t have any doctors on-site.  Within fifteen minutes they’d bleeped a consultant, checked baby’s heartbeat (still fine) and an ambulance had arrived to take me across to the correct hospital – blue lights, sirens, the lot.  As luck would have it The Boy is really good friends with one of the paramedics assigned to transfer us.  It was surreal but nice to see a friendly face – although she looked genuinely frightened when she realised it was us.  One of the midwives cancelled her clinic to accompany me and The Boy drove separately and met us there.

I was taken to the delivery unit and hooked up to the CTG machine that monitors baby’s heartbeat, movements and uterine activity – i.e. whether I’m having any contractions or not.  All seemed fine.  Again, they couldn’t work out the cause for the bleed but by this time I had soaked through another pad so they could see for themselves it was serious.  I was admitted overnight and had regular observations taken of both me and the baby over the next thirty-six hours.  They also scanned the baby which revealed that he or she had grown really well since the last scan and there was no evidence of any bleeding inside the womb.  The sonographer also checked the placental and umbilical cord blood flow and they were fine too.

The medics have ruled out the ectropian because I bled too much, plus I hadn’t had intercourse within 24 hours so there was no reason for it to bleed without any kind of “trauma” to bring it on.  They ruled out a placental abruption – again, because there was too much blood plus I wasn’t in any pain.  It wasn’t a clot because the baby’s heartbeat was too good – plus they would have seen it on the scan.  So the only diagnosis left was “unexplained cause”.

They discharged me on Thursday night with advice to rest, but not too much as this could cause a blood clot – no pressure to get the balance right then!  My community midwife arranged for me to be seen every day for a week to check baby’s heartbeat for reassurance which was amazing of her.   The next day I returned to the AAU that I’d thrown into such a panic earlier that week.  Apparently they’d been ringing up the maternity hospital to check on me as they’d been so worried!  They repeated a CTG on the baby which again was fine, however my pulse-rate ranged from 106-120 (anything above 100 is abnormal) so I was advised to rest more.  Yesterday and today my pulse appears to have settled and I am feeling a bit happier about things.  My community midwife has just been to visit me at home and the baby’s heartbeat is fine at the moment.

So here’s my dilemma.  I feel well and the baby seems to be okay at the moment.  So I feel that I should return to work.  But my midwife thinks I should be signed off for a few weeks because it might happen again and the baby’s life is at risk.  Ridiculous as this might sound I’m not sure what to do for the best.  If I go off for a few weeks chances are that my work might insist that I start materity leave early and if all goes well with the baby I’d rather not lose out on precious time that I could be having with him or her next year by starting my leave early.  On the other hand, more importantly,  I don’t want to risk having no baby at all just because I want to maximise my maternity leave.  All the medics and other midwives have said that bleeding can just happen and that it can be fine, but having lost multiple pregnancies already do I want to take that risk?  Would it help?  Undoubtedly my work is busy and incredibly intense and under my new boss I find myself working late almost every day.  In addition I was getting up early, rushing to the swimming baths before work, and then trying to fit in some yoga at the end of the day.  The day I began to bleed I remember I’d texted The Boy saying “I feel like death”.  Perhaps I’ve been pushing myself too hard?  I wonder if there’s a way to reduce my hours and my caseload instead?  When I initially found out I was pregnant my boss referred me to Occupational Health at five weeks pregnant.  I’ll be twenty-nine weeks tomorrow and I’m still waiting for an appointment despite having chased it twice.

After everything I’ve been through I can’t quite believe that I’m facing the possibility of losing this baby, particularly as it seems to be developing okay.  I know that the right thing to do is to ask to be signed off now and hope for the best.  But if I stay off work will I let myself get even more worried about losing the baby?  Is it better to have some distraction? Having read through this I think I’ve talked myself into visiting my GP and asking for some time off.  My baby’s life is just too important.

What would you do?

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26 weeks!

This time last year was probably the most difficult stage of our journey to have a child so far.  I was in the midst of fighting my case to persuade our CCG to grant funding for IVF and I was terrified that they’d say no again.  If I’d known then that just a year later I’d have a decent-sized bump, looking at my baby on an ultrasound scan at twenty-six weeks I really don’t think I’d have believed it.

Of course it hasn’t been plain sailing.  I never really allow it be!  I have started to enjoy being pregnant and I check out my bump multiple times a day.  But as I became more aware of our baby’s pattern of movement I knew it would lead to a meltdown when I couldn’t feel the baby in the same way as I’d become used to.  This happened over the last two days.  On Sunday I’d noticed a slight reduction in movements but I put it down to being out of my weekday routine.  By the end of Monday I’d barely felt the baby kick and I spent 3.5 hours lying on my left side, eating ice-cream and drinking cold, fizzy sugary drinks.  It worked and the baby kicked a few times but that was largely it.  I am used to being kicked a lot now!  Eventually The Boy & I visited our local triage unit.  As soon as I sat on the blue sofa in the waiting area the baby kicked!  They measured me, checked the heartbeat & asked me to stay for half an hour to take a trace of the baby’s movements and heartbeat.  It turns out this baby was moving a lot but I just couldn’t feel it at all.  I have a posterior placenta so I should have good sensation of the movements so they couldn’t really explain why, but thought it had probably just moved to somewhere with more space to move its limbs around.  Just as we were leaving the midwife mentioned I was measuring small and asked us to return this morning for a growth scan.  By this point it was about 2am so you can imagine I didn’t get much sleep last night!  On a side note a couple who had also gone to triage last night left shortly before us WITH THEIR BABY!  The man looked completely shell-shocked whilst the woman was beaming.  The Boy overheard him saying the baby was premature and he became worried (& a little bit excited) that we too might leave with a baby in tow!  I’m assuming they were wheeled off to a ward somewhere but I think she must have been further along than I am, because she was holding it in a blanket.

Anyway, after a sleepless night the growth scan turned out to be fine.  The baby was back in the range of normal and it was suggested that because I’m tall (6ft) my bump may be smaller because the baby has more space? Who knows!  The sonographer checked my fluid levels and my placenta so I feel like I’ve had a fairly robust MOT.  It was also really lovely to see the baby again.  I tried to sneak a peak at the gender area – there was nothing obvious but even the sonographer wasn’t sure if she was looking at an arm or a leg at one point so it probably wasn’t the clearest picture!  My husband wants a surprise & I do too really but I’d also love to know.

On another side note I made the epic mistake of buying myself a second-hand swimsuit on eBay.  Never do this!  In hindsight I don’t know why I thought it was a good idea but I begrudged spending £30 on something I’d only wear for a few months so I went on eBay instead and found a really pretty costume.  When it arrived I naturally checked the crotch to make sure it was clean and there was a crusty layer of something resembling vaginal discharge on it!!  I had to construct an awkward message explaining that it wasn’t clean ( I didn’t go into details but figured she’d find the stain when I sent it back) & requested a refund.  I know I could have washed it myself but I just couldn’t have worn it knowing what had been there – yikes!!

So there we are.  Twenty-six weeks, still totally anxious and expecting to miscarry any day but enjoying being pregnant more and more, finding fun in the little things again and even managing to relax at times!

Awakening the unconscious mind

So it’s been a while!  I signed myself off work after my last post – that turned into several weeks as I continued to faint, posing a risk to both myself and more importantly to my patients.  I wasn’t allowed back and this kind of forced my hand.  I was suddenly in a position where I had no choice but to take stock, to grieve properly and to start living again. Otherwise my health was really going to suffer.  During this period I have changed a lot.

I began to see a cognitive hypnotherapist (the one that’s pregnant!).  I have to say she’s been amazing and by some small miracle she has turned me into a positive thinker!  Anybody who has read my blog will not have failed to notice that I have erred on the side of pessismism throughout this journey.  This is a natural protective mechanism that often helps us not to be too disapointed when things don’t go so well.  But it was starting to do me some harm.  I had become struck with terror the moment I discovered I was pregnant for fear of miscarrying (which I inevitably did) and when I collapsed at work back in January I had started to project this terror into my proposed IVF.  I’d convinced myself it couldn’t work.  Then I convinced myself that I had already ruined it with my negative thoughts and I began blaming myself (somewhat pre-emptively!).  I couldn’t break away from this awful circle of negativity.

My “homework” was to spend time listening to hypnosis recordings developed specifically for me, walking in the woods (my happy place), going out for coffee and cake, doing yoga, reading for pleasure, sitting by the fire, enjoying a glass of wine and painting.  Slowly but surely the weight literally lifted from my shoulders.  I’d been having regular massages as my shoulder stiffness was causing headaches – they stopped about six weeks ago.  I began to laugh at my husband’s bad jokes.  I could begin to see positive intentions behind people’s actions – something I’d always struggled to do before, believing that the entire world was somehow against me.  I began to smile more and more, about nothing in particular.  Now, and I can’t believe I am actually writing this, I AM EXCITED ABOUT IVF!  I’m still fully aware of the stats; there is still a chance it won’t work.  But I don’t know the outcome yet, so I have nothing to be fearful of yet.  Who knows, it might actually work!  Stats-wise I seem to have good odds.  I have a 42% chance of success with the first cycle; this rises to 65% in cycle 2 and rises again to about 78% in cycle 3.  At some point it plateaus but we can only really manage 3 cycles (2 on the NHS & we’ll fund 1).

I’m starting to lean away from the herbs & all the alternative stuff.  I’m still organic where I can be but I’m not rigid about it.  I’m not massaging my belly anymore – it was always done in such a rush with no feelings of positivity & it put pressure on my bladder.  It just wasn’t pleasant so I’ve binned that.  I thought I’d feel guilty about giving it all up but for the first time in ages I think I am finally thinking clearly.  My most successful pregnancies (as a good friend pointed out) were when I wasn’t doing any of this stuff.  I’m still having acupuncture because the evidence for this is well-established.

I finally had my surgery by the way.  It hurt like a mother!  That was ten days ago.  Apparently it went really well and the cycst (which had grown again) came away easily.  She checked my the outside of my tubes and the right ovary – all normal – and said the endo wasn’t that bad so she didn’t need to remove it.  She said I might lose some follicles through the surgery but said that we have millions so to lose a few is okay.  Millions?!  I pointed out that I only had five on my right ovary in December and that my follicles were pretty precious to me.  Hopefully none were lost but I’ll never know because the cyst was blocking them anyway.

Typically the surgery occurred the day before I was due to ovulate so the surgeon said I probably wouldn’t release an egg due to the shock, so this month is out.  But she did say that I could start IVF as soon as I feel ready.  I’ll see what my gynae says on Friday but even if he says we can start this month I think I’ll wait until April.  It’s my sister’s 50th on April 1st and we’re going to Lundy Island for a walking & drinking weekend.  That’s basically all there is to do there and I don’t want to be abstaining or worrying about whether I’ve walked too far and all that crap.  It’s worth waiting just one more month I think.

In other pregnancy news my colleague texted me to confirm that I was right, she is pregnant.  I literally must have guessed the week that she found out.  I haven’t seen her yet but my stomach no longer lurches when I see that she’s texted me – I’m just genuinely pleased for her.  A fellow recurrent miscarrier who I met through a forum has also just discovered she’s pregnant again.  I used to stress about other people getting pregnant before me but I now feel pretty neutral about it, like I used to feel about pregnancy before I started trying.  Of course, I still have sporadic twinges of jealousy but they are momentary and I move on pretty quickly.  Sadly two other friends have miscarried recently. One of them must have miscarried 4-5 times in the last twelve months.  The other one has been told by her husband not to tell anyone about it, which perpetuates this feeling of shame that is so dominant in the miscarriage culture.  I totally see why he feels like this though. Tommy’s has a really good campaign for men and women to speak out about their experiences: https://www.tommys.org/miscourage-stories.  I’ve sent them my story but they’ve been so inundated with stories that they’re struggling to put them all onto the site.  It’s so telling that it’s such an unspoken issue, yet they’ve had such a huge response.

In other non-pregnancy news, I’ve rediscovered furniture painting.  I’ll put some before & after pics up once I’ve worked out how.  It’s amazing for mindful therapy.  And we’re having a new bathrom installed, so we’ll have no shower or bath for two weeks starting today.  I’m going to have to join a gym!

So all in all it’s good.  I think the fainting was my unconscious trying to tell me it couldn’t cope.  Apparently this is super common when an event happens that the mind feels too traumatised by to process, so it comes out in physical symptoms.  I stopped fainting about three weeks ago & my new boss seems to be very supportive.  He stopped me returning early twice to make sure I gave myelf a good rest before and after the surgery.  I’m starting back on Monday so wish me luck!

Moving towards ICSI

In about four weeks time I’ll be starting my first cycle of ICSI.  My feelings about this are bitter sweet.  I’m excited of course.  I’m hopeful that it’ll work and that I can put my sadness behind me.  Sometimes I allow myself to believe, just briefly, that it really might work.  And that’s so lovely!  Then logic kicks in and reminds me that statistics are not on our side; my clinic reports a 35%-40% success rate for ICSI in my age-group.  Positively, I thought the stats would be lower and I like to think I’m in the young end of the age bracket (I’ve recently turned 36) and hopefully that helps our odds somewhat.  On the negative side the incidence of things like cerebral palsy and downs increases with IVF.  My only suggestion for why is that women who do IVF are typically older than those who don’t and developmental disorders are often associated with older women.  Probably I’m now classed as an older woman – maybe those things are a risk for me now too.  I know that my egg quality isn’t great, and I suspect my lining might be too thin.  These things will cause problems for us in ICSI.

Anyway, we’ve signed our consent forms.  We had to watch a couple of hours of videos and complete a quiz after each section.   It’s quite a sobering process, learning about how it all works, what can go wrong, the ethics involved, the storage of embryos etc. they cover a lot to make sure we’re fully informed.

We saw our consultant on the day that Panorama did an expose on the Zita West clinic amongst others, stating that a lot of fertility clinics are extortionists.  Our consultant told us about the programme, suggesting that we watch it.  We have agreed to pay for an extra – £680 for an embryoscope to watch the cells develop without disturbing them.  We’re getting everything else for free so I think it’s okay to pay out for this.  The theory is that some cells might develop quickly but not as well as others, so when you get to day 3 or day 5 you really need to see how they developed as well as how far they developed to make sure you’ve got the best one.

My biggest worry is that I don’t know if I’ll manage to produce many eggs.  Apparently my AMH is borderline okay/not okay.  So I’m having the top dose of FSH to maximise my chances of producing lots of eggs.  Some theorists argue this is a bad idea as it could compromise quality in favour of quantity.  At the moment I’m not sure what to think at all; ultimately my consultant needs to get a good look at my eggs and The Boy’s sperm and see what he thinks after the first cycle.  He’s already said he’s got nothing left to throw at it if this cycle doesn’t work.  But at least we’ll know what we’re dealing with I guess.  I think that’s what’s frightening me the most.  What if I don’t produce enough eggs?  What if none fertilise?  What if I miscarry again?  ICSI is potentially our only hope and I’m utterly terrified of finding out there is no hope left for us after this.

I had a phonecall from my best friend a few weeks ago.  She was sobbing; she’d had a miscarriage.  As I heard her speak I felt her pain so deeply that I was transported back to my first miscarriage.  It was interesting that despite all my experiences of miscarriage I didn’t know what to say to her.  I knew what not to say, but I saw her recently too and I didn’t even know how to bring it up to ask where she was up to with it all.  She says that I’m the only person she can speak to about it & I’m grateful that I can put my experiences to some use.  But it’s made me recognise just how hard it is for others to say and do the right thing.  I’ve been so tetchy with people who haven’t responded well to my miscarriages but it was interesting for the shoe to be on the other foot.

In other pregnancy news I think my colleague is pregnant.  She’s one of the loveliest people you could ever meet and I have told her more than once not to make the same mistake as me and wait to have children.  So why did the realisation kick me so hard in the stomach?  I guess the answer is because she’s able to do it so naturally, unlike me.  It’s also highly likely that she’ll make her announcement just as my first ICSI cycle fails.  The last colleague who was pregnant made her announcement while I was waiting for my second miscarriage to be confirmed.  So it’s almost definitely going to happen again.

I’ll try to post how ICSI goes.  Next week we visit the clinic for a scan and to learn how to administer the injections.  I hope The Boy pays attention – I think he’ll need to do them!  I’ll be going back onto the progesterone so I’ve pre-warned my close friends that I’ll be going a little bit loopy and hormonal for a few weeks.  Oh, the joys of subfertility!

Computer Said YES!

It’s been a quiet few months fertility-wise.  I haven’t really been reading many blogs, I’ve not wanted to go onto the forums that much.  I’ve tried to distance myself from the emotional rollercoaster that I’ve been on over the last two and a half years.  I’m still aware that it’s a relatively short period of time, but in that time the majority of “infertile” contacts I’ve had are either pregnant or or they have had their babies by now.  I’m happy for them & it frustrates me that I can’t help perceiving it as a reminder of what I can’t have and I allow it to hurt.  I had thought it would give me hope but none of the other women have the same reason for infertility as us, so I find myself wishing I had an immune condition or a blood clotting condition which is easier to treat.  The success rate for ICSI, which we need, is not as good as I’d hoped.  So I’ve decided that distance is really what I need and I’ve also been trying to start the process of accepting that for me this might not work out.

Emotionally I have started to feel much better and this is for two reasons.  Firstly, I’ve come off the steroids and Progesterone hormones that turned me into a raving, depressed lunatic.  I know that they’re there to help a pregnancy but they failed to stop two of my miscarriages so I don’t think not taking them is a bad thing just yet.  I’ll take them when I do IVF.  Secondly, I am starting to feel that we’re getting towards the end of our journey.  In a year or so we’ll have tried IVF a few times and either it will have worked or it won’t.  But I should hopefully know either way.  This might be a simplistic view – it may take longer than 2 years – but I finally feel like I’m getting somewhere.

Today The Boy & I heard that our request for ICSI funding has been approved.  It took three attempts and six months to get them to say yes.  I used everything I could think of to persuade them: I wrote a literature review about the efficacy of ICSI, I made a Freedom of Information request to find out the cost of my miscarriages to date and totalled how much I’d cost them without ICSI based on the last two years, I was open about how stressed I’d become, I wrote to my MP and she complained to the Chief Executive of the CCG on our behalf.  Our CCG has never said yes to this kind of funding request before but today they did!  I feel quite proud of myself that somehow we may have opened up a precedent for other couples.

I am not complacent.  I do not know if this will work.  But I do know that I have literally done everything I possibly can to have a baby.  And that will help a great deal when the time comes to face our reality – whatever that is.

One door closes . . .

So last week I felt pretty sorry for myself … until I visited my herbalist.  For all her wacky ways she has a way of making me feel much better.  She pointed out that I’m on high doses of hormones and I’ve been on and off steroids for the last few months.  She was impressed that I’ve been managing at all!  Her additional take on this is that I’ve also changed a lot and when I go back to these friends I become the person I once was and I don’t like it.  Interestingly my husband has said that over the last three years I’ve not wanted to go on the weekends away with these girls and I’d stopped reporting that I’d been enjoying them – my best friend echoed the same.  I have changed.  My personality when I’m with my new friends is much different.  I’m more fun, more chilled and generally more like who I want to be.  And I really don’t like becoming the whiney, stroppy girl I was last week.  My herbalist thinks it needed to end in a big bang because I was clinging onto a friendship that wasn’t really going anywhere and that was actually dragging me down.  I think I agree.  Having reflected on the support I’ve had from them since MC number 1 it’s been pretty poor.  So for what purpose do I need to keep trying?

Whilst this was happening I put up a forum post about it on a recurrent miscarriage forum and someone contacted me and asked if I’d like to meet up.  It turns out we live in the same area and so we had coffee & cake on Saturday (don’t tell my herbalist!)  – and she’s so lovely!  So, while the door has definitely closed on the three girls from last weekend, this weekend saw a brand new door open.

I’ve also contacted some girls I’ve made tentative friendships with over the last six months and invited them out for dinner.  I have friend-dates lined up every day for the next two weeks :).  I am getting a new life for myself, and I should probably be grateful for the disastrous events of last weekend for giving me the kick I needed.

My herbalist also pointed out that when I was just following her advice my cycles were perfect: 28 days long, ovulation on Day 14, no mid-cycle bleeds.  Now I bleed just about every day, my cycles are getting shorter and my period lasts for less than a day.  She blames the chemicals (she would!).  But she makes a good point.  So for now because we’re just waiting for IVF anyway I’ve gone back to her regime.  I’ve stopped the Cyclogest and the steroids and have picked the diet back up again (almost).

Time to get back to being the new me!

I’ve crashed

Image result for funny pictures with captions depressed

I thought I’d been managing to hold it together but it seems that I haven’t.  The friends thing that I’ve harked on about for a while now came to an abrupt conclusion this weekend.

The three girls that were supposed to come to stay in January last year came to stay in my town.  Two days beforehand I asked if I could be picked up on the way to the hotel as I lived nearby.  Unbeknownst to me the driver has a phobia of driving in my town so she asked if we could just meet in town instead.  I (being overly sensitive) got upset that she wouldn’t take a 5 minute detour when it takes me an hour and twenty to get to town.  I messaged back saying surely the hotel was easier for them too but got no reply.  I tried ringing her but she didn’t pick up.  I could see that she’d read my messages on Facebook because it tells you, so in my mind she was avoiding me and I didn’t know why.  I rang one of the other girls.  She had a migraine and said she’d ring the next day.  But she didn’t get chance.  She said she’d ring the next day too.  But she didn’t.  By then this was the day of and I’d sent a couple of really stressed out messages to the Mutual Friend.  I’d had a text from the Driver who’d said she’d pick me up, but I thought it might actually be out of her way if she was coming in on a different road so I said I’d get the bus.

Once in town I received a text saying they were at the hotel.  Really?  I replied.  So I could have had a lift…  Cue massive row.  Underlying all this is that I’d texted the Driver in May to say I’d had a miscarriage and she never replied.  I’d assumed she’d forgotten but I was still hurt.  Normally I don’t confront this sort of issue but I’d planned to and had told our Mutual Friend about this.  I didn’t get the chance.  The Driver rang me saying that they’d discussed it on the way over and that they were all “in bits” about seeing me and didn’t really want to.  She said she was ringing to say sorry but she didn’t know what it was she’d done & that it was unintentional.  When I say she said sorry, she said “SORRY!!!!!”.  It turns out she’s been having problems herself and has nearly had two nervous breakdowns this year.  Again I didn’t realise & my heart broke as she told me that.  I realised that as much as I have things going on, so does everyone else.  She puts up a facade on Facebook – it looks like she’s living the dream – but apparently it’s not real.

I felt awful but I was still hurting and tried to explain why.  Although she did listen I didn’t really feel that she processed what I had said.  Eventually we met up but we didn’t discuss it at all.  For the whole weekend.  The mutual friend and I did and she gave me a reality check.  A harsh one but probably a fair one.  She said that it was my problem and that although she understood I’m going through a difficult time she couldn’t get to the bottom of why I felt that the Driver didn’t have a very high opinion of me.  It’s cliche I know but  I don’t think anyone should have a high opinion of me.  I can’t have children.  It’s not that I don’t want them.  I desperately want them but I can’t.  It’s such a basic flaw in my schema and when I meet these three, obviously they all talk about their children and I feel very out of place. (I only think this about myself by the way, not anyone else struggling to have children & I’m aware that that’s not rational).   The mutual friend said I needed to sort it out (she acknowledged that this is not easy) and said I needed to consider whether my move abroad will actually fix my issues.

The next day they left together and I spent the entire day in tears.  I also sent the Driver some flowers to apologise for being over-sensitive and hurting her.  She texted me today to thank me but said she’s still struggling to let go of the hurt caused at the weekend.  She was tactful not to say the hurt that I had caused.  She then said she can’t get over the fact that I thought that she’d been intentionally hurtful.  This is something I was careful not to say because genuinely I don’t think for a second she was.  Somehow I’ve given out a misconception which I feel I need to put right but feel it could cause more stress.  She ended the text by saying we’re both too sensitive to be around each other and advised that I find a safe place and look after myself.  So I’ve ruined an eleven year friendship in one weekend.  Well done me!

It’s probably deserved but I’m hurting again.  I’m hurting because I think very highly of this friend and I suppose this is why I felt so rejected when I thought she didn’t acknowledge my miscarriage or when she wouldn’t pick me up or answer the phone.  Plus I’m ridiculously over-sensitive and hormonal at the moment.  Confrontation is really not me and I am truly scarred by this experience.  I’m hurting because I went to meet the three of them, knowing they’d discussed it, knowing they were upset with me, but I still went because the friendship had meant something to me and I’d wanted to sort it out.  I’m hurting because I don’t think I got my message across at all and the fact that they thought I’d believed her behaviour was intentional demonstrates that they didn’t fully hear what I was trying to say.  I’m hurting because essentially I’ve lost those three friends now.

I’m really, really hurting.

I read somewhere that people with recurrent miscarriage have the same anxiety levels as soldiers with PTSD.  I was a bit dismissive of that statement at first although it came from a credible source.  Lately I’ve been thinking how true it sounds.  I’m currently agonising over every last thing I do. Particularly on my 2WW but even more so when I’m pregnant.  I cannot move for worrying about whether or not a) I’m possibly pregant and b) whether what I’m doing might kill any potential baby.  I live with this night and day.  I eat fruit because I need the vitamin C but then I stress about eating too much sugar.  Then I eat chocolate because I feel I’m not enjoying myself enough and then I stress about that too.  Then I stress about being stressed!  I’m on alert every minute of every day and my fight or flight response is on a knife edge.  Every time I feel threatened I react.  I’m not excusing this.  Of course not, this is an awful problem to have.  I’m trying really hard to understand it.  Otherwise the three friends I have just lost will be joined by everyone else I care about.  And then I really will be depressed.