Sub Chorionic Haematoma?

On Monday I’ll be thirteen weeks. I lost his baby at Thirteen weeks 5 days I don’t know what it will feel like to get past that stage, but I’ll certainly be thinking about it.

This baby was conceived in Seattle, a product of our sense of adventure. In November 2010 we moved from our 2 bed room flat into a large open plan house away from the center. At the same time my husband got a new job that meant travel. I remember sitting at my desk at work receiving an email from him saying he could be away on and off for months. I’d been at my company for 10 years and decided to ask for three months off, or I would consider quitting (the job is a subject for another blog “memoirs of a public sector recruitment consultant – am not ready for that one just yet!”.  So in April I left the treadmill of frequent commutes to London and I flew to join my husband who was already in Seattle. What a place. I did miss Murphy though, my bundle of fluff, but if she could see what I was up to I was hoping she could make that sacrifice for me!

I started hot bikram yoga about 3-4 times a week, I joined an art course and came out with pieces I was most proud of, I basked in the sun when it didn’t rain, I spent ages cruising the isles of the American Super Markets feeding another passion of mine FOOD, I ran loads. I was a picture of health and the break was so good for me! Back in the UK I was getting emails from my colleagues, a large number of staff had left and the MD was eventually moved out of post. Bit gloomy. But I didn’t care, I lived in the moment.

We came back to the UK fully refreshed and energised and I still had a month left. We bought furniture for our new house, I started to learn to garden, I forgot to continue my art! I socialised and I tried some yoga. I remember feeling strange before a yoga class, so I bought a test and did it in the studio toilets. I was pregnant. It was July, it had taken us 18 months  between the first and the second which made me believe conceiving was tough. All proceeded normally. I spotted at 6 weeks and had a reassuring scan. We continued along, digging around for some internal belief system to tell us this could work and to forget about the first one.

I can’t remember it all but around 11.5 weeks I had a significant blood loss and my midwife encouraged me to get a private scan. My husband was away in Amsterdam and I was meant to be joining him that weekend. The perks of having a husband that travels. I went along paid my dews, saw our baby but was told in no uncertain terms you are going to loose a large amount of blood over the next few days. She could not say how much and she couldn’t say when. It was a Monday. I worked from home until Wednesday and by Thursday when no blood loss had come I decided to pack some basic sanitary provisions and get myself into London. I had missed enough meetings and things were stacking up. By midday I had had a normal morning, then things took a turn. I felt dampness, I rushed to the toilet in time for a large golf ball sized clot to escape. And lots more blood. It poured out of me. Need I say I didn’t have enough sanitary preparations to cope. I prepared lots of toilet role enough to make the journey from Victoria to London by cab, told my boss I needed to go through this in the comfort of my home and I left the office panic stricken. I called my midwife on the way home keeping her posted. She completely panicked and told me that as soon as I got to Paddington I had to get to the nearest hospital. By now I was hysterical. A guard placed me in a room, prying customer eyes everywhere, I called my husband in Amsterdam just so he knew where I was. Soon I was in an ambulance off to St Mary’s. I was checked, told this was not a really big blood loss and that it could be worse. That did reassure me. They made me eat and then I discharged myself so I could go home. The bleeding eased but I was told there could be more and not to fly to Holland. I was gutted. My husband flew to me instead.

A week later at my dating scan I was eventually diagnosed with a sub chorionic haematoma. Was told I could bleed anytime, was told many women reach full term labour needing blood transfusions but that it doesn’t need to be the end of the road. I tried to carry on as normal. The next bleed was so serious. So glad my husband was around. It was Monday again and I was going to see a client locally with a friend. I got up to go too the toilet and the heavens opened. I called my husband and he was shocked. We called our sister in law who was a midwife and I practically fainted I was so weak and had lost so much blood. She really helped us though over the phone. I was put in the recovery position and I had a sweet drink for energy. We called my doctor. He called the emergency ward for pregnant women. They insisted I also called, so there I was on the toilet, weak explaining things were bad. It was agreed I should be admitted for a scan.

The lady who scanned me said baby fine, but you my dear are so pale am worried about you. Lets admit you and lets get you seen by our top sonographer and consultant tomorrow. I was relieved to be admitted because at this stage, I really needed work to understand that this was serious and not the hysterics of a panicky pregnant lady. I got my own room. I was lonely and I was scared, but I was glad to be admitted and at least I had doctors and nurses there to check on me and monitor me. I saw the lead sonographer the next day and she said my baby was doing really fine and getting really strong but she couldn’t quite see where the bleeding was coming from and she would admit me until it ceased for 24 hours. There would be no more commutes to London as I was vulnerable to bleeds at anytime and I needed rest anyway. That was bad news but at that stage with so much time to reflect all I wanted to do was save my baby at all costs. They moved my room again but I was on my own still with my own toilet. By this time I was starting to feel institutionalised! Wearing nappies and eating, going to the toilet and watching rubbish TV. Looking forward to my visits from my husband.

On Wednesday they moved me to an open ward. I’ll be honest with my constant bleeding and trips to the loo I was really gutted because this time the loo was quite a trip. I also didn’t feel comfortable with people around me. Then I had a visit from a trainee doctor. She told me they had looked at my scans and that I had a problem with my kidney and would have to operate. I screamed hysterically “are you sure? Do you know I have a sub chorionic haematoma, me and my baby have been through enough, do you have to operate?” The nurses came running and it was quickly established that she had got the wrong patient. Her face summed it up. I had to get her out of my flimsy curtained cubicle. I was calm. I had a visitor that day, a good friend. I needed it. She bought books and laughter.

I settled down for sleep that night, aware of all the other patients around me. A girl opposite had a problem with her appendix and cyst in her ovary. Her operation was late at night and she would be returning late morning. At 2am I was experiencing more blood than normal and it was bright red. Then again at 4am. It didn’t feel right. I bumped into a doctor and asked would I know if I was loosing my baby he said for sure. At 6am I experienced mild contractions I went to the toilet to pass the blood in my bed pan as I always did for analysis. What I saw wasn’t a blood clot, I rang the  emergency buzzer a nurse came running. She saw what was happening, she told me not to look back. I passed our baby and I returned to our ward. I knew other ladies knew as I heard them gasping in their cubicles it was horrible. I called my husband. He came rushing over and he had to tell everyone, our families, my work. HELL. I had to be operated on again. By Thursday 6pm I was out and relieved to be home. I felt numb and shocked.

It hit me really hard when I had a shower, the tears and cries of pain that came out, I’d never heard them before.

I had three weeks off. I called miscarriage lines, I prepared my CV, I went to interviews, I cried, I felt strong, I was going to quit my job, I was all over the place. I don’t need to go on, as this note is long enough. What I needed was time and inner courage. And by now our doctor because of my age 36 had referred us to a fertility specialist. So help was on its way………….

While I was in hospital a big delivery of spring flowers and tulip bulbs had arrived at the house for me. That weekend myself and my husband planted them all  in memory of our loss, as a symbol of hope but also a symbol not to forget how precious life is and how touch and go it can be. I can’t wait to see them again next March as they really are stunning.