Tag Archives: Ectopic pregnancy

Home ed Diary 09/05/16 – 21/05/16 part IV

As if 2 birthdays within 5 days weren’t enough, Wednesday 18th of May was my nephew Billys 6th Birthday. (My sisters little big boy) We spent the morning starting a project on Romans, sparked by our recent visit to Bignor Roman Villa. Inky also started her own project on Egypt. I spent a couple of hours reading and printing things off from this VERY valuable pdf file ANCIENT ROME. I’ve had it saved for a while after coming across it on one of my home ed groups and it is finally being used. It’s Grade 4-8 whatever that is, but we don’t go by the age of stuff anyway. Just whether its appropriate for what Inky is currently studying and that its not too ‘young’ for her. Even after 2 hours of looking through it, it wasn’t enough. I ordered a second hand Usborne book about Rome on Amazon to add to our collection of books we already have on Rome. Most of these we found in charity shops. From around 1430 – 1700 we looked after Mums doggy and done some more work on Romans/Egyptians. Then when Mum picked Shadow up, she also picked us up to take us to my sisters for Billys birthday party with just family there. He has another football themed birthday party this Saturday which Inky will be going to. It was a lovely afternoon and Sam my man came there straight from work for a few hours before we all headed off home.

On Thursday 19th May the children and I went for a long walk in our gorgeous local woods. The weather was beautiful and we only needed light cardigans on, which we all eventually took off. We all love to explore the less beaten track (especially our dalmation, Shadow!) and wound our way through the trees. Perfect. On our way back home we stopped at a local organic farm shop and bought a couple of bits before heading home for lunch. After lunch Bri had a long nap and Ink and I continued with our Roman project.

ink shad

Friday 20th March Inky didn’t fancy walking but I really did so she stayed with my Grandma, Oma, (obviosuly her great Grandma) for a couple hours and I got some alone time with my Mum and Bri. Inky ended up going to a local street market with Oma and Omas partner from where we had to collect her after our walk. The rest of the day was pretty much the same as yesterday…. which brings us to the last day of this particular diary entry…

Saturday 21st May. In the morning Inky and I had chiropractor appointments – Inkys gets aches in her neck sometimes, since she started back at gymnastics in September last year and this would be her 3rd session. 1 more to go and she will be ‘fixed’. Me on the other hand, I have more aches and pains which need ‘fixing’. Especially since my MY ECTOPIC EXPERIENCE. We came straight home after and Inky had just about enough time to get ready before my sister and her partner picked her up to take her to B’s 6th Birthday football party. Mum and I went to pick Inky up from the party when it had finished.  She had an amazing time, even if it was a 6 year olds party :p she was happy that she got to spend the time with her cousins, Aunt and Uncle. And that Mummy wasn’t there to regulate the sweet intake. As it was Saturday night, Inky stayed at Mums after to watch Britains Got Talent, their little thing they like to watch together.  What a ‘social’ life our home educated children have. Oh, and they learn along the way too for those who only care about the ‘fact’ (NOT TRUE) that home educated children don’t socialise… not just ‘book’ stuff, but also real wordl stuff through interacting with family, friends, strangers, tutors, trampolining/gym coaches… they definitely aren’t ‘hidden’ and right now i feel a bit like saying nah nah nah nah nah (sticks out tongue 😉 )

Home ed Diary 09/05/16 – 21/05/16



Around day 22 after surgery I took my Mums dalmatian for a brisk hour and a half walk alone. It was lovely to be out in the woods but by that evening I had severe lower back ache. Like a band of pain that went round into my belly! I had to take a painkiller. I went to bed early hoping I would not wake up unable to walk, thats how bad it felt. Tummy cramps and feeling weak. 6 days later my first period. Not too bad – I was expecting heavy bleeding It was like a normal period! About a week after my first period ended I had 3 weeks of such bad pains, feeling constipated, like I had trapped wind, aching where my right tube should have been (felt like someone had punched me in there and then left their fist stuck in) and twinging in my left tube. Spasmodic pains and nausea fro 3 nights in a row toward the end of the 3rd week of pain. Then a whole night and day of burning tummy pain the whole area area below my belly button, tingly arms, legs, left shoulder/neck. Wondering if the couple of times we had had sex since the operation with a condom on had been with a faulty condom and I was somehow pregnant and experiencing another ectopic. That’s how bad I felt… well, last week Wednesday, the 6th April (exactly 2 month since my op) I took 2 pregnancy tests at home in the morning because I was so worried, both negative. But still didn’t trust that because of the pain I was having. Also hadn’t eaten for a day and a half as I couldn’t tolerate food, nor even drink coffee again! So my mum dropped me at A&E. Thought I’d go straight there as what would a GP be able to do anyway? Negative pregnancy urine test. Took my vitals. No temperature. Oh yes, I’d been convinced I had a temperature as for 3 nights – I was having hot and cold flushes but my thermometer didn’t work so I was just guessing I had one. Well, it turns out I didn’t! Must have been nerves. In my head my period was 1 day late (it was 29 days since my 1st post op period) and therefore I was very scared I had another ectopic… They also took bloods to check for signs of infection/appendicitis/ UTI’s/HCG levels. All fine. HCG 0. The first triage nurse I saw in A&E I broke down in to tears as I was/am so scared of ever having to go through an ectopic again. It was the most terrifying experience, apart from the still birth I had to go through. But being operated on and being scared I was going to die and leave behind 2 children was in a way worse 🙁 I realised then how traumatised I actually was! But once I’d had all the tests done and told I was OK, some of the pains went and I also realised that they weren’t caused, but were enhanced, by my fear. I had been analysing every little minute detail of my body and reading into it wayyy too much. I’m not berating myself, we need to be kind to ourselves after this kind of experience. It makes us more aware of our mortality, and gives us a new take on life. And guess what, the next day I got my period!

Today is the 15th April, and I have been taking organic Agnus Castus 1000mg capsules (I bought 100 on Amazon for just over £10) for 3 days now. Today is the first time I’ve woken up pain free. It has been a turbulent ride. The question now is, what form of contraception? I cannot tolerate the pill, I get miserable, spotty, moody and tired. Nor do i advocate its long term use due to known side effects.  My GP suggested the coil, but I came across this site www.ectopic.org.uk when looking for a support group. I did call them the day I went to A&E when I was freaking out, but there was a voice recording saying there were no operators available that day due to staff shortage! Anyway, on this website it says if you have had an ectopic pregnancy the coil is not recommended as it only prevents the egg embedding in the uterus, not in the fallopian tube. Therefore it could happen again! So now I am looking for a safe alternative. I am too scared to even contemplate ever trying for a baby again. I know the pregnancy wasnt planned but we would have welcomed that little baby with open arms. Even writing that brings a tear to my eye. I love my babys and it makes me sad thinking about the rupture 🙁

A couple other things – my right stitches came out after 10 days. my left after 14. the belly ones didn’t come out for 6 weeks. I did phone the hospital after 3 weeks as I was worried because on my paperwork although it said no follow up required, it also said stitches should come out after 10-14 day. I spoke to a nurse and she said the stitches can actually take many weeks to come out. I used my Nans sauna and the stitches in my belly suddenly became so loose where I was sweating – haha – that I got some scissors and cut through them and they came out easily.They had become rather tight and were weeping where they went in to the skin. Even now after almost 10 weeks there is one little pin prick hole left over from teh surgery that is still weeping slightly, and when I squeeze a small amount of white stuff comes out. I told the Dr in hospital last week and she said its normal. It doesn’t look infected or anything, but I’m guessing it’s where the camera went in, as my belly button is a little sore now it finally has some feeling back in it. Thinking about the weeks of bruising I had without feeling when touching the belly button area, there must still be a lot of healing going on. If you are going through this, don’t discredit it. Just because the surgical wounds look small, who knows what it looks like beneath the surface. Plus the gas they use to inflate the tummy…And though we were put to sleep to have surgery, I’m sure on a cellular level our bodies must know exactly what happened and there has to be trauma. Love yourself, love your body. Don’t berate yourself for how you feel. Allow yourself to feel. Easier said than done, I know. But try. I DID berate myself. Thinking it can’t be normal to feel like this so many weeks later. Its MAJOR surgery.

Oh, I also still have on and off pain down below. Sometimes it feels like its right up the top of the cervix or womb 🙁 sometimes its a burning pain. But again, since taking http://www.herbwisdom.com/herb-agnus-castus.html Agnus Castus I have been feeling so much better <3

They also took pics of my insides before and after surgery. They asked if I was squeamish. I said no and looked at the pictures. Saw the exploded tube and blood around it. Then the after picture where all the blood was gone etc. I also signed some paper work to cremate what they found and give it a blessing. thought that was a nice touch.

I’ve had a funny appetite for weeks. I mentioned somewhere before that I couldn’t drink coffee for 2 weeks. Also craved coconut water, smoothies and juices made by my mum and fruit and veg. Wheat made me feel bloated and I couldn’t tolerate too many sweets or spicy foods like normal.

Anyways, this is my very personal experience. I’m sure there are those who hardly suffered after. What surprised me is that the first 6 weeks or so were relatively ‘easy’. Then after 6 weeks those horrendous pains. Like a living nightmare. I write this to not only keep it as a form of public diary, but also to reach out to all the other women who have been through this.



As I said, Sam had left Brian at my Dads and Kates where he had inevitably fallen asleep in the lounge downstairs at such a late time of night. Sam was meant to be sleeping at home with Brian so I didn’t hear him wake and potentially cry, asking for me. He is only 2 and is still breastfed. On top of that we co-sleep. I didn’t know if I’d be able to stay away from him if he was calling for me. Also, I didn’t want to breastfeed until the next day in the evening, after expressing out the first lot of ‘hospital’ milk. However, it all worked out fine. Sam slept in teh lounge with Brian, who actually only woke once in the night at my Dads. I heard him call mummy a couple of time and Sam settled him in less than a minute. He didn’t even cry. I couldn’t believe he practically slept through the night with Sam. Never done that with me. Slightly jealous….only joking 😉

As the boys slept in the lounge peacefully, I was meant to be sleeping getting my owm peaceful rest upstairs, but just couldn’t. Not because I was in pain. No pain, not even labour, I don’t think could hurt as much as the week of pain I had to endure before self diagnosing. I think I couldn’t sleep because I still had a bunch of hospital drugs exiting out of my system. I was also buzzing with joy that I was alive and home. Well, at my Dad’s, but still practically home. In the wee hours of the morning, after sleeping from half past midnight until half past 2, I decided to see if my friend in Australia was about to chat on line on my phone. She was. So we spent a couple hours chatting via facebook. I only ended up sleeping from 5-7am!

What I haven’t yet mentioned is the pain in the right shoulder after key-hole surgery. The gases apparently get trapped under the diaphragm and have to work their way out. So they work their way up, then back down and out. Lots of foul smelling wind and bowel movements. Sorry to be so blunt, but there’s not really any other way of describing it. Sunday morning after my 2 hour sleep, I had such bad pain in my shoulder I thought they had somehow messed up in hospital and that this was acute shoulder tip pain that is associated with ectopic pregnancy and they had not taken the tube out correctly. I fidgeted around in bed, shoulder in pain until around 11am when my Dad and Kate served up a lush full english. I hadn’t let on to Brian that I was there until about 1045. I could hear him from about 8am chatting sweetly with Sam in his cute, adorable toddler voice that hasn’t yet fully mastered the English (or German – we are a bilingual family) language. Ahhh, bliss right there (if it wasn’t for the darned shoulder pain), hearing my men, knowing Inky was happy staying at my Mums, being alive, bedroom window open, looking out on tall trees and beautiful blue sky, cool air stroking my face. Breakfast went down better than the fish and chips the previous night, but I still wasn’t up to my usual eating capacity. In the 8 days leading up to surgery my appetite had gotten progressively less anyway, and the last 3/4 days before I hardly even ate because of the whole tummy ache/diarrhea thing.
The next day after surgery I was buzzing and happy to be alive. Then the next day, on the Monday morning, I became really overwhelmed by what had happened and broke down in tears in the morning. From then on I had 3 days of being up and down emotionally. Hormones I guess and post op lack of sleep. Since then I have been entirely fine emotionally, but am still healing physically. As a very active person always out with the kids, flitting from activity to activity, play date to playdate, I found it incredible how my body made me to slow down and rest. Lots of sofa days and films. Luckily Inky got taken to most of her usual activities by friends. Sam had the first week after the op off to help me, especially looking after Brian so I could get some rest.

IT HAS NOW BEEN 10 WEEKS TOMORROW – below are some bits I’d like to include and also to update you, the reader, about how I’m feeling physically and emotionally after just over 2 months….

For the first 2 weeks I had to take a lot of paracetamol to dim the pain! Even after my cesarean with Inky I had only taken them for a week, and don’t remember being in so much pain! However, after the cesarean I had with my still born son 15 years ago, I had mega pain for ages. I’m positive how we feel emotionally effects the pain we have….It took ages to be able to walk as far as I normally would. The first 2 weeks even walking around a supermarket I would get so weak. My right leg (the one on the side where the tube got removed) would start lagging behind a bit and I would proper slow down. Couldn’t have coffee for 2 weeks because I would get light headed and feel like I was going to faint or get a panic attack. My pubic bone felt like it had been hit with a sledge hammer. When looking in mirror could see bruising over my pubic area, as well as my right hip being surrounded with bruises! It was tender to touch. Its still slightly sore now after 10 weeks! I had severe bruising below my belly button, which went through every shade of blue, purple, green and yellow imaginable. It took 7 weeks to fully fade! As did the bruising around right hip bone, which went through these varying shades. After 1 week out of hospital Brian and I came down with flu or something which lasted for 7 weeks! Think being in hospital lowered my immune system so much I got very ill – I NEVER get ill! Brian was not able to breathe through his nose properly at night for weeks and was coughing. For several nights he had a temperature. He was waking around 5 or 6 (sometimes more ) a night for a feed and some nights I had to get up with him and sit on the sofa. When he’s ill he wants me, not Daddy. On top of that I started carrying him again around 6 weeks after surgery. One day I felt so well I carried him on a one and a half hour walk with Inky, my Mum and her dalmatian Shadow. It was a sunny day and Brian wasn’t up for walking but I had to get out. I totally over did it that day.




I was wheeled through in to a tiny little room full of drugs and chemical concoctions, some of which were going to help save my life. I cannot remember the anaesthetists name, but she was a very young, pretty looking girl. She held my hand as I went under and told me to think of a place where I would like to be right now where I felt safe and calm. Oddly enough I thought of Brazil, not Sam and the kids, where I had spent 6 months with living with Shamans in 2004 before I’d had Inky, right by the beach with virgin rainforest directly behind us. Then I remembered that I’d had a dream the previous week that I was finally going to visit Brazil after 12 years of missing this vibrant, beautiful, yet in areas devastated by deforestation country, in a tiny business plane. In the dream I’d forgotten something and had to get off the plane whilst it was flying and the pilot said I’d be able to get back on (even though the plane was still airborne?!?)… Brian woke me before the dream finished.

The next thing I knew I was in recovery. My eyes had trouble focusing at first. Eventually I spotted a clock on the wall and fixed my eyes on that. Only thing was I could see about 4 of them. Not like double vision, quadruple vision. as i couldn’t read the time I have no idea how long it was until I thought, ahh, it’s 130. So 1330. About 3 hours or slightly more/less since I’d been knocked out. I stayed focused on the clock, breathing fresh oxygen through my mask. My body wanted to go back to sleep, but all I could think was OMG IM ALIVE. MUST STAY AWAKE. MUST NOT GO TO SLEEP. WANT TO SEE SAM AND BRIAN AND INKY. WANT MY MUM. I WANT TO GO HOME. I don’t know how long I lay there, a nurse at my side, talking to her. Oral morphine at some point. Then my Mum was allowed in. ‘MUUUUM!!!!’ I introduced, or tried to introduce her to my nurse. Until about 15:00 I kept forgetting her name, although it was SAM!!! And each time, my Mum told me, I would say ‘but how can I forget that name when my partner is called Sam.’ Hehe. Pretty funny. Another thing, Mum made me aware that I was having a blood transfusion through a drip… something I felt icky about, other peoples blood, but in an emergency… Sam told us it was my own blood they had salvaged, cleaned up and were putting back in. WOW 🙂 Mum left for a bit, and I lay there till 16:30 chatting with lovely Sam. I actually felt like I’d made a new friend. Maybe everyone is, or appears, that kind and angelic though when you’ve woken with an euphoric feeling of gratitude, marvelling gratefulness at still being alive and allowed home at some point and to be reunited with my sweet family. I wondered if I’d ever see her again.
So, at 16:30 a male nurse called SAMMY wheels me back to my ward. My Mum comes to say hi for a bit and make sure I’m OK. Then leaves. I have called Sam already and he arranged for my Dad to have Brian. Actually, my Dad was going to have Brian anyways so I could go to the baby shower with just my big girly Inky and also give Dad’s girlfriend, Kate, a lift over. Nonetheless, Sam arrived around 6pm with fish and chips (he’d told me this is what him and Brian ate and I got a real craving for it). Up until this point I had drunk about 10 glasses of ice cold water (I was parched!) and not eaten yet. Saying that, I did get some hospital soup, potato and chive, which was cooling on my little hospital table when Sam arrived. I tried to eat some fish and chips, which was only luke warm by the time it was delivered, but it hurt my throat to swallow. I guess where I’d had a pipe down my throat when I was unconscious. Also I’d been on my phone a helluva lot talking to a good friend of mine, telling her what had happened, texting friends/family etc. I was buzzing with joy the whole time. I felt pure love and gratitude for the hospital staff (or life saving angels, I thought of them now, for they had saved my life), who had so changed my opinion of this hospital I could only ever associate with bad memories and the deep scars left by it. And now… I felt like something I didn’t realise needed healing had been healed. I thought if ever I need to take either of the kids to A&E/hospital for anything (god forbid), I would be OK with it now and not associate hopsitals (especially Worthing) as a place of sorrow. So, as I was saying, the fish and chips were a bit of a let-down, but I have to say – and even the hospital staff said no one had ever said this – the soup was perfect. Slightly salty, creamy and easy to swallow. I asked for more…

Sam stayed until around 20:30pm. At 9 my last blood test was done (I’d had one immediately upon waking in recovery – the results were already better than when I’d come in in the morning) and then the night staff came on. From here on I didn’t enjoy my stay as much. Where I’d drunk so much water, I was going for regular pee’s. I done 3 with help, the last 2 I walked myself to the loo, passing the desk of nurses. My blood results were meant to be back by 21:45. Every time I passed the desk I asked for my results after 21:45. They tried to coax me in to staying the night saying I needed rest and sleep. I couldn’t. The lady opposite me was off her face on drugs and kept on asking for more, on top of that surrounded by moaning groaning people, whistling nurses who feigned cheerfulness but got snappy when asked a question… and then hearing A&E staff who came up to the ward saying they would have to start wheeling patients up here because they were full down there, and also that they were short 2 beds… then a couple patients arriving from A&E. How was I meant to rest, plus I had my heart set on going to my Dads.My Mum and Inky were waiting to come and pick me up. At 23:30 I’d had enough of waiting. I went to the desk and said that I would be discharging myself if they didn’t get my results in the next 10 minutes. I had them in my hand in 2. All good 🙂 I messaged my Mum to come and get me. Yippeeee!!! I now had to get dressed alone. The staff were pretty unhelpful. T’was slightly laboursome but I managed and didn’t even get escorted out by anyone. Walked myself down 2 flights of stairs and several long corridors to the great outdoors. INNNNNKYYYY!!! My big girly. So happy to see each other, holding hands the whole way to my dads. I would have stayed at Mums, but I was worried her/our gorgeous dalmation would jump on me, hurting my fresh scars. I was glad I had seen Inky too as I had been worried about how she was feeling. She was going back to my mums to stay as there wasn’t enough space at Dad’s for all of us. My Mum would drop her to my Dads in the morning.




Once upstairs I met the Dr in charge of me, a lovely lady called Petra. She unsuccessfully tried putting a canula in me twice. I needed an IV drip to top up my missing fluids apparently. Whilst I was being man-handled, I called my Mum. She was meant to be working, but instantly took the day off when I said i needed her. I tried to be strong and say that I would be fine by myself and that she should work, but she’s my Mum. She KNEW I needed her. My, how have times changed regarding mobile phone use in hospitals since I last was in this hospital, Worthing, 15 years ago, where my first-born Joel had died due to several serious errors on the part of the midwife I had. The labour ended in an emergency c-section under general anesthetic. When I awoke the emergency team who had to be assembled to try to rescue our baby, were crying around me and I knew that our baby was dead. Read about that HERE. I had had my 2nd child Inky at a different hospital by planned c-section though I desperately wanted nothing to do with hospitals ever again and wanted her at home, and my son at home naturally…. quick time to reflect whilst waiting to meet the lady i thought would be giving me just a second opinion, hopefully followed by the wonder drug I’d been told about rather than surgery… but it was actually my surgeon, an Indian (I think) lady Dr, called Dr Buddha… I asked them 5 times at least if that was actually her name, said I loved Buddhism and that I knew I was in safe hands now… until she said they’d have to put a camera through my belly button to check which tube was afflicted.
‘You’re not doing THAT to ME,’ I said

‘What do you suggest we do then?’ said Dr Buddha in an Indian accent.

‘I don’t know, but not THAT.’

‘You’ll be asleep and won’t know about it.’

‘Asleep?!?’ I thought about it for 10 seconds and a great calm and acceptance came over me.

‘Fine, do it then.’ I said realising I didn’t really have a choice and this was the only way for me to get better.

‘ Also, we need to see which fallopian tube has the ectopic pregnancy as they couldn’t tell on the scan as you are so early in pregnancy. Then we can treat this at the same time ‘ said Dr Buddha.

‘ Can I go home after? I need to be with my children and Sam’.

‘Yes, we treat this as day surgery now. And as its early morning we will take bloods at 9pm and if they are ok you can go home.’ PHEW. What a relief to hear that.

Ahhh, so they had known downstairs, they had just wanted to keep me calm. My Mum arrived around this point and I went from calm acceptance to literally breaking down. I was sobbing and squeezing the life out of her hands. Until I saw her I didn’t realise how much I really needed my Mum there. I Didn’t realise how much I’d been holding it together after my first little cry straight after the scan when I had called Sam, my Mum and his Mum. I suddenly felt relieved yet scared stiff. My worry was not waking up from the general anesthetic and never seeing my 2 beautiful children again, or my Sam. I worried that I hadn’t written down some kind of will, nor had life insurance. (Almost 4 weeks later – have I sorted this – NO!! It IS on my to-do-list 😉 ) Then I calmed down. I think it helped that my Mum asked if she should slap me to snap me out of my hysteria, haha. (Not that she would have… or would she…??) So I was told that I was going in to theatre in 10 minutes. I begged them to wait until Sam and Brian got there as I so desperately wanted to see the two of them. As I mentioned before, I also desperately wanted to see my big girl Inky. But I didn’t want her to see me like THIS. Then that fear again that I would not see her again… or Brian….or Sam… also what would my sister think of me not turning up to the baby shower. silly thought. On the flip side of wanting to see Inky, I was glad she was having a day with Uncle Stevie and would be distracted by all the going-ons of the day. Eventually they could wait no longer (it was Saturday and apparently there were people queued up for surgery with just 1 operating theatre) for Sam and I was wheeled away on the bed to theatre. Just as they opened the theatre doors to push me through, I looked to my right and saw 2 of the loves of my life walking toward me. I didn’t mean to but I called ‘Sam’. Brian heard me and called ‘Mummy’ and started running toward me. The reason I said I hadn’t meant to is because I was worried he would start crying if he wasn’t allowed to stay with me. But he was so happy to see me. The nurses or Drs who were wheeling me to theatre stopped and Sam lifted Brian up on to the bed next to me and he gave me a big cuddle and kiss. I felt so happy yet part of me thought ‘is this a sign that I won’t wake up from surgery and that I’ll never see my 2 men again?’… needless to say this was just an unfounded worry (note to self, don’t look for/imagine signs in EVERYTHING.




I call the surgery in the morning. No appt til 1540, and it wouldn’t be my regular GP. She’s not in on a Friday (how would I know that, I’m never ill. Nor are the kids.) I tell the receptionist what I suspect is the matter with me. She tells me to go to A&E if that’s what I think. Sam took the day day of to look after kids and I drove myself to hospital. Wishing that Sam could’ve come but grateful he is with the kids. As I have diarrhea, I’m quarantined in to a room by myself and get to sit on a comfy bed with the back up and get my book out. Good distraction tactic and a way to pass the time. 2 nurses and 1 pregnancy test later I’m told ‘congratulations, you’re pregnant.’ ‘Thanks’, I say with a slight hint of sarcasm, ‘but I’m in pain or I wouldn’t be here. I think I have an ectopic pregnancy. I need to see a Dr.’ ‘You’ll be fine says the nurse….

Dr eventually comes to see me, after a short exchange of words he starts prodding my belly and asking where the pain is. i respond accordingly, to which he said he was no expert but because I look so healthy he doubted it was an ectopic and to come back on MONDAY AFTERNOON for scan. Well I could’ve been dead by then if I hadn’t told him I wanted one sooner! I told him I’m a mum, I’ve given birth. I can handle pain, I have a very high pain threshold and I may look well, but please check my records. There is virtually no history on me because I’m never ill. I wouldn’t be here unless I felt extremely concerned . I wanted to add that just because I wasn’t crawling my way along the hospital floor, blood dripping from some gaping wound didn’t mean I was well. But I thought it best not to. Anyway, the Dr leaves me be for half hour, in which time I carry on reading, and says to come back in the morning for an 850am scan. I was fairly happy with this and drove home. It was actually hard turning the steering wheel at this point. Really hurt my tummy. As the day went on, pain was now and again present in the right side of my neck and a little in my right shoulder, especially when smiling or laughing.

Strangely I felt a lot better in the morning – I decided I would still go for the scan and check our new baby OK. Perhaps it was just one helluva start to this pregnancy. Sam had Brian and Inky had stayed at my Mums the night before. I was thinking that after the scan I could go food shopping ALONE, and then go look for a gift for my sisters baby shower I was meant to be going to that same afternoon. Part of me thought why even bother going now I feel better…. my fallopian tube/embryo must’ve burst over night, taking off the pressure, leading to internal bleeding and less pain??

I had to have an internal scan as I was only around 6 weeks pregnant and a regular scan wasn’t showing much. I had the top scan lady look at me, she said that she could see a lot of liquid around the uterus and one of the tubes, as well as a soft collapsed tissue mass. After the scan I had to go back in to the waiting room. I was told that because it was so early in the pregnancy they couldn’t tell what tube was effected so I would be going up to the surgery ward for further investigation, and not to worry I wasn’t going for surgery, just a second opinion. As i sat there by myself waiting, just one other lady in the waiting room tears started pouring down my face and I called Sam, my Mum, Sam’s Mum. I had taken the car with Brian’s car seat and wanted Sam and Brian there NOW. I didn’t want to worry Inky as she was obviously a lot more clued up at age 10 and I didn’t want her worrying. She ended up staying with my brother Steven for most of the day, he took her shopping for a baby shower gift as she would be going without me, good for her to be distracted and not worried about old mummy here. She ended up with a whole new outfit too 🙂 I asked Sam’s Mum to bring Sam and Brian over to see me, sobbing uncontrollably. I was deadly afraid of what was facing me, not knowing what was really happening and kind of calmed by the words of the scan lady saying I would need a second opinion, but also that it was possible to progress an ectopic with medicine nowadays (if the tube hadn’t actually ruptured!)

The other nurse who had also been present at the scan wheeled me upstairs in a wheelchair, saying I wasn’t allowed to walk as I had lost so much fluid. She was surprised I hadn’t collapsed yet and it was too risky for me to walk. I laughed at this, good to maintain a small amount of humour in such a situation and said I was perfectly capable of walking… but I seriously wasn’t allowed.