Aww, you're all lovely. I'm catching up slowly with emails. TMAM, thank you for the message earlier this week, and you Indith, I will reply, things have piled up a bit here. I'm absolutely not ignoring you.
BoF, I will email you. I have a very important question to ask you, oh wise one.
I've toyed with how much information to put here because it's such a sensitive subject but I think in the interests of anybody who happens to finds themselves here and stumbles across this whingy thread, I'll give some information about what happened.
Please don't read the rest if you are sensitive to the subject but go and read a bumsex thread instead. Actually, that might be more traumatic. Go and see if you can start an AIBU thread where every reply is YANBU. It's the holy grail of MN.
Why do the curtains in hospital cubicles never quite reach both walls at once?
Why is it when you're mid disrobing, hopping around with one leg in your knickers and one out, baring your arse to the general vicinity does the surgeon breeze in for a chat? And why doesn't he go away and come back later when it's clear that you and your bare arse are busy?
Why is the woman in the bed opposite never under the duvet? More specifically why is she on top of it, in an ill fitting gown, legs akimbo and putting you off your tea and toast? Is the correct response "I CAN SEE YOUR SNATCH!"? I tried not to look but she kept talking to me about Wayne Rooney. I barely know who he is fgs and I couldn't concentrate on account of the Brief Encounter style flashing going on.
Anyway, the NHS is a clever beast. You see after 6hrs of waiting in a cubicle with legs akimbo woman airing her bits at you, the glare of strip lighting and the assorted noises of the hospital (including two nurses discussing things men put up their bottoms and claim they 'fell on them'), I was practically begging for them to get on with it. I read The Turn of the Screw and Lord of the Flies cover to cover in the wait.
I had to have a pessary which I wasn't prepared for. The fpc thought I might not have to as I've had a child already but have one I did. The joy was that I had to insert it myself. I did consider doing it in full view of snatch woman but thought she'd take it as some kind of creepy gauntlet and tbh I didn't know quite what she'd do with double page spread of aforementione potato-headed footballer.
The pessary had to work for a couple of hours, it was mildly uncomfortable. They gave me two enormous horse tranquilisers to take as a precaution along with a thimble full of water as I was nil by mouth. The heady combination of morning sickness, no food for 24hrs, an over excitable gag reflex, an inadequate amount of water and enormous tablets was not pleasant. Keeping them down was hard work.
I was taken to theatre in the bed as I'd had the pessary and wasn't supposed to walk. That was a relief as I was fairly shaky with fear and was worried about walking.
The pre-op staff were bloody lovely. The chap talked to me about all the things he thought I should do before I turn 30 at the end of this year. It was very funny. And we discovered in a roundabout way that the female nurse's husband was at school with me. They put something else into the canula first, no idea what it was but the room started spinning and I asked them to stop it. That was the only bit where I worried about keeping control. I assume it was a pre-med but I don't know why as they put the GA in a minute later anyway.
They didn't tell me they were putting the GA in, no counting, no warning. I looked down and the anaesthetist was injecting it. It made me cough a lot which they said was normal. I don't remember anything beyond that.
I woke up as I was wheeled out of recovery and back to the ward, sat up immediately and tried to leave. I was made to stay for toast and tea and was told not to get out of bed or dress myself until somebody had checked me over.
I got out of bed, hid behind the ill-fitting curtain (snatch woman still airing her goods to the world btw only by this point she'd had an allergic reaction to codeine so had hitched her gown up to her waist to air the red scaly skin), got dressed and packed my bag. I stopped long enough for them to remove my canula and then got shouted at a bit more because I refused to let them carry my bag. I just wanted to get out.
DH sat in the waiting room for 7.5hrs. He also fell asleep the receptionist told me. I suspect the whole thing was harder for him than me. My parents looked after dd for the day and when I got back she was fast asleep but had been promised that I'd wake her up when I got in. Waking her up and her eyes lighting up was the only time I cried all day. She asked me if the doctors had made me better and could we do painting tomorrow before falling back to sleep.
Physically I'm well. Slightly uncomfortable but they fitted a coil too which they said might cause some cramping. Bleeding was heavyish at first but nothing beyond a period and it has slowed down a lot today and is already turning brown (sorry I know tmi, but these are the sort of things I wondered about). I was tired last night but still sat up till 1.30am reading so not too exhausted really. I also have no nausea which after 4 weeks of vomitting and retching, is a blessed relief. I weighed myself this morning. I've lost a stone.
Emotionally, I am 100% better than I was. The day procedure unit wasn't at all like the rest of the hospital. It was all leather chairs and pot plants. The radio was on and they had sculptures and poetry all over the place. It didn't feel like a hospital and that helped enormously. I feel relieved. I'm so sad that I was in that position but it was the right decision and I think I did all of my crying, wailing, whinging and grieving before the op. Ironically, the wait on the NHS helped in that. I had so much time to know that I was doing the right thing and come to terms with it. I was asked 4 times if I'd changed my mind yesterday and didn't hesitate once.
I feel in control again. The feelings of revulsion and invasion and guilt have subsided. I will always be sad and regretful that it ever came to that and I think it will alter me slightly but there is no part of me that doesn't know it was the right thing.
I've started a list of things to achieve this year before I'm 30 and I feel positive, more positive than I have done in a while. It's altered some of the perspective I have around dd's birth. I didn't expect that. I feel like I can do hard things, I've proved to myself that my reproductivity is a mix of luck and determination and in all the things I can control, I've done my best. I know her birth must have been the same. I've remembered how hard I tried when in labour, it's been right there in the forefront of my mind and it's started making more sense. Is that weird?
Oh and I had to have a suppository but the less said about that the better.
Thank you, each one of you for replying and listening. I know that I've only coped because of people to talk to on here. Apart from DH, MN is the only place that knows what has happened and I've appreciated the support more than I can tell you.
It's done. I'm tired. DD is making me a cup of tea, mainly snow and gravel in my best china but it's the loveliest thing I've seen in a long time.