I suppose if I was writing this a few months from now, I could make this entry funny. But, quite frankly, I’m not in the mood. I’m still experiencing a high level of pain. Went to A&E on the weekend, and I was there for ages. They were checking me for this trauma-related syndrome and said I would probably need surgery. My left foot was ice cold and they were having trouble finding a pulse.
I was freaked out about x-rays and medications during pregnancy, but resigned that if it had to happen it had to happen. It was more painful considering what x-rays might do than my leg could ever be – and that’s saying quite a lot. I’ve never felt such intense, agonising pain in my life – and such persistance as well. We’re trying to find little ways to make things bearable, but it’s difficult. TMD has now taken half days the rest of the week, because I can’t get off the couch to go to the toilet, get food, etc.
Morning sickness is also in full flow again. Dry heaving and vomiting every day. AWESOME stuff.
So. What happened?
I came out of a meeting at a client’s house. It was dark, just after 6 pm. This particular road has crossings but very few of them. I realised I was walking the wrong way. I could see a crossing, and actually had the thought that maybe I should walk up to it and use it. (Though I have crossed this road about six million times in the past 5 years.) Then I saw that I was directly across the street from the bus stop I needed to use.
I waited until all the traffic on my side of the road was stationary, and there was no traffic coming the other way. I started crossing the road, and the next thing I knew everything was black and I was sat on the road. Immediate pain flared in my left knee, and then a mental voice screamed, ‘The babies! THE BABIES!’ I started to struggle to get up and out of the road. A man at the side began to rush over and yelled, ‘Don’t move. Stay still!’
I yelled, ‘I’m pregnant and I am not staying in the middle of the road!’ The p-word was miraculous. Suddenly people were running from every direction to help me up. The man who hit me yelled, ‘You shouldn’t have crossed the road like that!’ at me, and I just said, ‘I’m pregnant.’
An ambulance and the police were called. The pain in my left leg was terrible, but I was much more concerned about the babies. In the ambulance my whole body was shaking uncontrollably. I called TMD and couldn’t stop sobbing. The ambulance lady was lovely and kept me talking, which calmed me a bit. She kept trying to check my knee and other injuries, and I kept saying, ‘I don’t care about any of this. I just want to see if the baby or babies are okay.’
At the hospital, I started shaking again. I was seen pretty quickly (again, I think the p-word opens a lot of doors) and the consultant only seemed interested in my knee. He asked me to bend it and said there was no fracture if I could bend it, and that they couldn’t do an x-ray at that stage in the pregnancy (six weeks). There was a dull ache in my calf, but at that point it didn’t really register.
Then they did an over-the-tummy scan. I said to the doctor, ‘I don’t know if I have one baby or two. And I don’t care if there is one or seven, I just want them to be okay.’
I figured things were alright when he began to give lessons in how to diagnose pregnancy via ultrasound to another doctor, but still. He put the thingie on my stomach, smiled, and said, ‘Well, well, well.’ That also relieved me, though he didn’t take the trouble to tell me things were okay at that point. I heard him begin talking to the other doctor, and the words ‘two gestational sacks’ were definitely mentioned.
He said the sacs were intact, that there were two yolk sacks, etc. He then swivelled the screen and said, ‘Well, miss, did you hear what I said?’
I replied, ‘I have two?’
He said, ‘You definitely have two, maybe more.’ MAYBE MORE? What the fuck? He said that the pregnancy was fine. He showed me both sacks and attempted to let me listen to both heartbeats. This all freaked me out as one sack was much larger than the other, and the heartbeat was mostly audible and I could see it registering on the monitor under the ultrasound. Baby #2’s heartbeat wasn’t so simple.
The weird thing about all of this was how I felt. Emotionally. Normally even a papercut (maybe a slight exaggeration) would require me to have mood swings – fear and needing TMD there, to RAGE that she was not there. I did not care that she was not there. I did not care about being alone at the hospital. (After I got hit, the woman chairing the meeting came along and said she would go to the hospital with me. I refused. My co-worker offered to come – I refused. And then there was a knocking on the back door of the ambulance and my friend G was there! He hugged me and said, ‘How are you?’ He too offered to come.)
Nothing mattered. I didn’t feel like my being supported was the priority, I felt like making sure those babies were okay was the absolutely most important thing on the planet. In the hospital, I was so worried about miscarriage and the fact that I would feel responsible for it. This was a terrible pain that was all consuming.
So. Since the accident, a range of problems have occured. Muscle spasms in my foot, calf, thigh, back. Pain in my hip, knee, and ankle. Assorted cuts and bruises.
But my calf? Incomparable. Apparently it’s a tear of the calf muscle – it might take 3 to 4 weeks for the pain to begin to go away. AWESOME. I’ve not been back to work since the accident, as obviously at this point I can’t even pee without assistance. I’m worried about some sort of nerve problem as well. I’ve had tingling in my left foot. Yesterday if I pushed my toes, I had very painful tingling.
I don’t know if this is normal pain associated with this type of injury, from being mostly immobile, or something more serious. Going to do some hardcore googling.
Anyway. We went for the proper scan in the city on Monday. I vomited in the car the whole way there, managing to open the car door and tip out my sick bowl in the middle of the road. We parked about a (normally) 30 second walk from the clinic, and had to take a cab the rest of the way because I just couldn’t manage it, even with my snazzy new crutches.
The scan confirmed the two babies. We saw and heard both heartbeats. The woman confirmed that it was normal to have one smaller sack than the other in twins. She also measured the babies and said both were in normal range. I’ve got about a zillion pictures and an official scan report. Essentially, one baby (as of Monday) was just over 9 mm. The other was just over 6 mm. The idea of seeing the heartbeat of such tiny things is just unreal.
The sonographer counted my due date from the embryo transfer, not the egg collection – so that pushed my due date back to August 29. It also made me three days ‘less’ pregnant. When my mom was pregnant with me, she was due on August 29. I think that’s quite cool. Also moderately disturbing to think about my parents having sex.
We met with the doctor who did the embryo transfer very briefly after the scan (after we’d had a longer meeting with the nurse). She warned us about vanishing twin syndrome – that in 50% of twin pregnancies, they reduce down to one baby. I asked when this would happen by, and she said twelve weeks. I confirmed with her that if there were two babies at my twelve week scan, chances are things would officially be good to go.
She said I could choose to come in for a nine week scan, but she didn’t really see a reason for that as both babies were in the normal range and everything was healthy.
I think that’s everything. I need to not be sitting up any more.