Hi ladies
Thanks for your lovely messages and glittery dog shit. You all ROCK
The catalogue of fuck ups on Monday was absolutely epic. If being told your baby has died isn't enough to make it a bad start to the week.
Just to explain the setup, I am seeing a private gynae / fertility doc who has done both my IVF cycles and who also did the ERPC for me. For the IVF he works with a fertility clinic, so EC and ET are there, and it's their embryology lab, but I have all my scans with him at his consulting rooms. For the HFEA purposes my cycle counts towards their figures, but they don't deal with me directly - I'm his patient, not theirs.
In a piece of spectacular timing, no sooner than I get off the phone with my lovely consultant who says he will arrange for the ERPC ASAP, than it rings. Woman from the clinic is calling to ask about the outcome of my cycle - have I taken a pregnancy test yet? For the egg collection and embryo transfer I had 2 months ago? Have I taken a test? No, I came in for IVF and I just thought I'd wait and see if a baby popped out in 9 months. Have I taken a FUCKING test?!!! Now she wasn't to know I'd just been told our baby had died, but FFS, firstly she was supposed to liaise with my Dr's office about everything pertaining to my cycle, but secondly, if we hadn't taken a test then I think the welfare of the child form should probably be rescinded as that would raise some serious questions about our competency as future parents!
Then once we got to the hospital, the comedy of errors continued.
I'm waiting in the room to be admitted and a nurse breezes in saying 'I hear you're very anxious about the procedure today? It's really very routine and absolutely nothing to worry about!'
I'm like, 'er, I'm not worried about the procedure itself, I'm just not wildly happy about the fact that we found out 5 hours ago that I'd had a missed miscarriage and that I'm now here to have my dead baby surgically removed'
She shits herself - it turns out who thought I was in for an ERCP (a routine endoscopic procedure to look at the pancreas) and not an ERPC (evacuation of remaining products of conception). ANOTHER nurse comes in to do blood pressure and asks what exactly an ERPC is as she wasn't familiar with the procedure.
There are only so many times you can explain you are here to have your dead baby surgically removed from your body before you want to stab someone.
At least when it was called a D&C there was less margin for confusion
It didn't end there though.
As I'm coming round from the general anaesthetic, and I remember why I'm in hospital, and that I was pregnant this morning, but now I'm not - recovery nurse sees me crying and pats me on the shoulder and tells me ‘everything happens for a reason’
What fucking reason is that then? Cos right now, as I’m bleeding from having my dead baby scraped out of me, I don’t really give a flying fuck
Then ANOTHER nurse tells me I have an angel now.
I KNOW they mean well and don’t know what to say. But just no. Don’t say anything. It is not helpful to tell me I have an angel now. I was happier when I had a baby thank you very much.
Oh, and did I mention this was all in a PRIVATE hospital. We were like, is this incompetence included or are we paying extra?
Thankfully BUPA cover ERPCs so I wasn't paying directly for the privilege of this incompetence
My Dr said to me, that when he and his wife had a miscarriage and she went in for an ERPC, they had remarked that BUPA aren't interested in normal pregnancies - only dead babies.
The one shining light in all this catastrophic day, was that my Dr was completely and utterly lovely. He was so kind and sympathetic - he said doing ERPCs was the saddest part of his job and said he felt so personally responsible - even though obv it's no one's 'fault' . It also meant a lot that he shared something so very personal, as he wasn't just being a kindly Dr but had genuine empathy having been on the other side of the fence.
He was also absolutely horrified and completely disgusted all the fuck ups had happened. Because I was an urgent admission, there weren't any beds available on the gynae floor with his usual team, and so I was admitted to a different floor where they didn't usually get gynae patients. However he said that was absolutely no excuse and would write to the director of nursing to raise a complaint. He also said he would ring the director of the fertility clinic to give them a bollocking.
The song 'I don't like Mondays' literally could not have been more applicable this week.
Oh and the icing on the cake was when the following day a chugger shouted at DH 'cheer up mate, things can't be that bad!'
DH nearly lamped the guy.
Sorry for epic post, that was pretty cathartic to write that rant down!
Proper reply with personals that's less 'me me me' to follow
xxx