After last post, I decided to call both of my doctors – Dr D, and our new obstetrician (although we haven’t even met yet).
Dr D’s receptionist remained true to form and was … brisk. She effectively told me that at 7 weeks I was no longer under Dr D’s care and they couldn’t really help me. While I’m not technically under the obstetrician’s care until 10 weeks, I tried her office and the receptionist was wonderful. Warm, caring – and very focused on what I was saying. I explained my drop-off in symptoms had occurred after the 6 week scan and she suggested I go in for another scan immediately.
So, on Tuesday we drove across the city in the rain to a weird, poky little office (our usual scan place is more exclusive than a three-hatted restaurant – you need to book in three weeks in advance!) And, at 7 weeks we saw the heartbeat. Still drumming away.
Sweet, sweet relief.
Now, I feel like I’ve moved into a different stage. I feel a little more positive. I feel like I need to focus on being optimistic, rather than pessimistic. I need to concentrate on hoping that everything will be OK, instead of expecting everything to fail. I need to set aside the miscarriage demons, even though I fear leaving them behind will encourage something bad to happen.
I won’t say the approach is perfect. Every day that I feel a little more hopeful is another day we have further to fall if something goes wrong. And, I did find myself lying in the dark, reading ‘miscarriage after heartbeat’ stories online at 4am today … which is clearly not healthy or helpful. But I’m trying hard.
This may seem phenomenally negative, but I think it’s important to be honest. Infertility isn’t a condition that switches off at a positive pregnancy test. This is what us women have to bear – a trauma over years that affects our very psyche.
I’ve received the OK to travel, have sex, and exercise again (but not at the same time! – boom boom). I need to trust the medical advice I receive and go with it, rather than second guess with the ‘aid’ of the sad stories scattered throughout the pages of Dr Google.
So, here I am. At 8 weeks and focusing on the good – the amazing luck we have had up to now, the beautiful blurry grey images we’ve seen, the happiness in the faces of those we’ve told. Focus, focus, focus!