Consultant Appointment

We had an appointment with a Consultant at the hospital at 2:30pm yesterday afternoon.

What a waste of time that was; or maybe not I can’t decide to be honest. Somehow though, I managed to walk out of there with some sort of slight closure even though we were not told anything new.

We arrived there to be greeted by the Consultant, the head M/W {I think} and a wacky looking Counsellor.

We spent 45 minutes there, which consisted of the Consultant reading through my notes and me adding my pointers as to what he had missed out or gotten wrong. He explained why I was left there for 3 hours waiting to be seen by a Doctor when Bobby had a heartbeat and I explained how it felt to be left there waiting to be seen by a Doctor for 3 hours when Bobby had a heartbeat, wondering WTF was going on and if our boy was going to make it or not.

I explained how I was told by the ambulance woman that they would be able to put the cord back in and how I was told it was quite common. I explained how I got there and waited for that to happen but it didn’t. I explained how it felt to be left there asking when the Doctor would arrive time and time again only to be told each time that he was in an emergency operation and how I thought ‘Well what exactly am I, not an emergency?’

You get my point…

All the way through this the Counsellor butted in asking me questions on how this made me feel blah blah blah.

The Consultant explained that the tests from the bloods and placenta showed nothing abnormal and how because we didn’t opt for a PM they couldn’t confirm exactly why he died.

I explained how we didn’t want a PM as we knew how he died. It was the infection.

I explained how I went to the hospital three days before my waters broke and how my urine sample showed no signs of infection and how my cervix was closed and how when three days later my Doctor confirmed that the waters hadn’t broken and yes I had an infection and yet then two days later when I had my 20 week ultrasound; everything was finally made clear…

I also brought up that I had written a formal complaint about the way we were left and what the response letter had said.

The head M/W asked me if there was anything I would like to take back to her staff to help deal with any future women in my position and I simply said ‘tell them what’s going on, let them know what is going to happen instead of letting them imagine what would happen and if it’s bad news then its bad news, just don’t let them get their hopes up for no reason like I did’.

They made a note of it.

The Councillor asked my OH how he felt to which I thought ‘oh dear’ because he had refused to attend at first because he didn’t want to speak to the Councillor but he simply said ‘well it’s sh * t but we are coping and I don’t have any unanswered questions’.

We were then asked if we had thought about trying again or if we thought it was too soon but I explained that we were trying but without any pressure this time; if it happens then it happens.

The Consultant advised that as soon as I know I am pregnant I should call his department so that he can set the wheels in motion for me to have an early scan and swabs taken to monitor any possible future infection.

The M/W went on to explain the difference between trying to save a baby at 22 weeks and a baby at 23 weeks. Simply put as I understood it; Bobby was unlucky. Had my cord prolapsed a week later, they most probably would have delivered him there and then. It was simply a lottery we didn’t win.

We were advised that if we wanted to see a Councillor then the service was there. I’m not sure if I will be seeing a Councillor. The one I met this afternoon I definitely wont be seeing. If I am going to open my heart to someone I want to gel with them and I certainly didn’t with her. She has given me her card if I would like to book an appointment so I think I will sleep on it for a couple of days and see how my emotions go.

This whole grief malarkey is confusing as hell.

I took a pregnancy test on Friday; of course it was negative but now I know that the moment I do get a positive, it’s the new pregnancy and no longer Bobby. In a way the negative gives me a fresh start but as strange as it may sound, it is the final confirmation that Bobby is gone, that my pregnancy with him is over and there is absolutely no trace of my boy left within my body.