This is yet another continuation from the last two blog posts, that I would suggest you read first to be able to get an understanding of how we go to this point. They are as titled;
- “We created a rainbow in a world of clouds, albeit temporary.”
- “We weren’t going to be that 2% were we?”
All of these are openly discussing miscarriage, ectopic pregnancy, and all aspects that surround it. Please take this into consideration before reading ahead and do not continue if any of these subjects are sensitive to you. That being said I believe this has been done with the up most respect with much care and love. There are no unnecessary details and nothing that can be considered graphic. But please take all of these things into consideration; do not continue if any of these are a triggering subject to you.
All My Love.
Once we’d decided that methotrexate was the right choice for where we were at that point it started to get moving at what seemed like a thousand miles an hour, people rushing round all around me in a blur. There were consent forms flying left right and Centre, information coming at me from all angles and not one part of it I was taking in. It then got to the point where we discussed the procedure and what the injections instilled.
It was a lot.
“Now we have to tell you this because Google is a thing and many people Google all the drugs they are given, methotrexate is a drug used to treat some kinds of tumors and a cancers, its primary use is to treat cancers and tumors. But please don’t get the two confused your pregnancy is not a tumor but methotrexate is used to stop rapidly dividing cells. Like a tumor.”
This stopped me in my tracks.
My baby is not a tumor; it doesn’t need to be treated like one. I was panicking and planning my escape with all the nearest exits. In that moment I think my SO saw the fear in my eyes and held my hands, mainly to stop me running I think. All the other side effects where then told to me while my eyes glazed over, thinking about all the things they were going to me and my body, many of these scenarios I had created in my mind never happened and never would have into today modern day medicine. Our biggest enemy is our own imagination.
Many of these side effects were the usual kinds that I had come to expect, stomach cramps, sweats, sickness, diarrhea a bruise where the injections where given. All of these I was expecting, these were “normal and to be expected”. How ever two of the side effects brought me back from the imaginary land I had created where I was going to live happily ever after with my baby and the love of my life, back to the world I was sat in where was were talking about the best way to end my pregnancy and lower my chance of future problems, the biggest of which was fatality.
“Now this is very rare and I’ve never seen it BUT a recorded side effect is hair lose as a result of the methotrexate.” This one upset me a little bit more but once again I just didn’t care. I needed this to be over. The next one however made me very confused, which I was not expecting from something that so far hadn’t affected me nearly as much as I initially thought.
“It causes extreme sensitivity to the sun, this means no extending time in the sun or any better 12-3, always wear sun cream even in cloud.”
Now this wouldn’t usually be much of a problem in the UK considering its reputations of always raining or over cast but this year we were in the middle of a 2 month long heat wave with temperatures of 32 degrees plus and 25 plus at night.
This for some reason this caused me the only emotion I had not had in time it had taken to get to where we were, it made me angry. Ridiculously angry about not only the least controllable part of my life but the world, the sun.
One I had stopped my sulking about the sun and had signed the consent form for this route to be taken, it was time to start. I was then weighed and measured to find out just how much I needed to be given, this seemed weird to me that my body surface area was needed rather then the usual just weight. I stopped my protesting and just let the people that knew what they were doing do there jobs. An hour later I was lying on a bed facing the wall as my SO started his usual verbal diarrhea about the wall art as I was told to brace myself for the injections.
All 5 of them.
I choose to have them given in my hip/buttock as it is the “meatiest” part and what I thought was the least likely to hurt. This was pointless because the elastic band flick of pain was nothing compared to the ache that took over my entire leg and bottom, for nearly a day. It was less then 30 seconds to a minute before I requested a break better the first three to the last two. I took this break to complain once again that my bottom hurt and that none of this was fair. I didn’t even notice the last two because quiet frankly I was complaining once again.
After these were given I was told of what was going to happen to me over the next few days and that I was likely to feel very drained and weak. I then had to wait at the hospital for an additional hour just to check for any unwanted side effects.
I thought that was it and it was over with, I was once again going to be proven wrong.
I was then given an appointment to come back four days later for yet another blood draw to check my HCG, which commonly increases over those three days.
This was exactly what it did.
From 467 to 565.
I had already expected this but it still stung a little more then I had thought it was going to.
But that okay I still had 3 days to get those to drop even though I knew I had no control over it at all. The HCG level needed to drop by at least 15% on those what I assumed to be final bloods on the Thursday.
“ If your feeling okay you don’t need to wait for the results you can go home and I’ll phone you with the results, we expect them to drop dramatically with the bleeding”
I felt okay, I 80% did not think that I needed to wait behind, I felt okay I still had the worn out ache that I had pretty much instantly hit me the needle did, but that I had expected.
I went home optimistic that those numbers were going to have dropped the required 15% that was needed for me to go back to normality and the daily visit was decrease to only weekly until me levels were no longer that of a pregnant person.
This was why I was so shocked to receive the phone call to say once again my levels had gone up from 565 to 606.
What was even happening? From tem minutes previous I was planning how I was going to spend the weekend “recovering” with my SO lovingly and romantically to now where I was crying and planning my next visit for yet for drugs to be pumped into my bum cheek.
If only id stayed for the results I could already have them done and be recovering but no id had foolishly believe I was “better”. It was yet another restless nice planned waiting to go back in the morning with me best friend in tow for 5 more shots in the bottom. I found comfort in the fact that no one had ever needed a third round.
The morning came and I was prepared I had water, a charger and I was not going to be left hopeless again.
We nailed that visit we were there early enough to be home before my appointment and even had breakfast before we went in. This was yet another false starts to the ending. Well going along hoping for the ending I was putting all the warning signs that something was wrong to the back of my mind, the extreme cramps, pain while urinating and rectal pressure. These should of all be massive warning signs, but they died down over the next few days so that worry was over.
However the Wednesday came and it came speeding to a head of pain and upset. The day was fine with just the occasional cramp and the pre discussed weird rectal pressure until exactly 6.37pm when I had a cramp that made me stop eating my dinner and just remembers to breathe, it took over my entire body, shaking and sweating. It just kept going and going. But then it passed with some bleeding. I assumed this to be normal but as the night continue the pain continued. Now I am always pretty good with pain and have a relatively good pain thresh hold but these were beginning to stop me in my tracks. With each “round of pain” they began to last that little bit longer.
I decided that I was just going to go to bed and wait it out until my appointment in the morning. It was only a night after all.
That wasn’t how the plan ended up unfolding. I did not get any sleep and gave up trying and started pacing the house while breathing through the cramps. I ended up throwing the towel and waking the SO at 11:30 while huffing and puffing and of course over dramatically wailing and crying.
There was no way I could wait till the morning; I had no choice but to go to A&E for help.
My face dropped as I got there and saw there was a 4 hours wait, thankfully I had to wait seconds before I was whisked off into a room to be hooked up to all the machines and a catheter in my hands incase I needed an medication.
I didn’t need medication because as easy as that we were left alone, exact for an hourly check to make sure my blood pressure hadn’t dropped. No one read the paperwork i was forced to carry for this exact occasion for 3 weeks, no one so much as asked if the bleeding had stopped. Once again i felt alone in a ward full of people, except for the man that had been through and saw more then any partner should ever have to see, for that i will alway been saddened.
It was then exactly to the minute 6 hours later when I was discharged still in the same unable to walk kind of pain because “well its probably just the methotrexate doing its job” after getting a rather patronizing “You do realize what the drug is for, its to stop the pregnancy, that’s the pain, you know that right”.
We went the long way home just to avoid the bumps that caused me to cry.
I wanted it to be over and that was what the pain was but in my heart of hearts I knew that wasn’t the case. I didn’t sleep when I got home at 6am before my appointment at 10am, we just lied there, in silence as once again he stroked my hair and wiped my tears.