Blood matters

I went to my first scan today. I know: it's early, but I need to start the Clexane as early as I can. I'm officially 5 weeks and 6 days pregnant. I didn't realise that I would be scanned today, because I've always thought 6 weeks was too early to see anything. I thought that today's appointment was just to confirm that I was pregnant, get a blood test, write the Clexane scrip, that kind of thing. I was therefore pleasantly surprised that there was a scan.

Having said that, it was a vaginal scan. I've had one before, so I knew what to expect, but it still came as a bit of a shock. You can't see anything on the scan (or nothing recognisable as human), so I won't put the scan up here. (If you really want to see it, let me know and I'll email it to you.) However, just about the only thing you CAN see is the heart beating! How amazing is that?!?! It's a much slower heartbeat than the 180 beats per minute of most fetuses, but that's normal at this stage, because the heart isn't properly formed yet. (It doesn't even have the two pumps/ 4 chambers yet.) I got tears in my eyes listening to it... knowing just what a miracle it is that there is a baby in the making. If I'd known there was going to be a scan, I would have had Graeme come along to share that moment. To see that little heart beating, even at 5 weeks, suddenly makes you realise that this little blob of cells is a little person. How amazing is that?!?!

Anyway, then we had a discussion about how we're going to get our medical aid to pay and what help the gynae can give us to achieve that aim. This was followed by a discussion about starting the Clexane TONIGHT. Somehow, I wasn't prepared for that. I have to inject myself every day until 6 weeks after the birth. I'm not sure how one gets over the mental hurdle, but I guess I'm about to figure that out.

Then it was off to the clinic downstairs to have my blood taken. The nurse on duty knew nothing of my condition, so it was with some amusement that I watched her reaction to my blood. Within seconds of the vials being taken, she was squinting at them and shaking them. I could see she was alarmed, but didn't want to unnecessarily alarm me. After a short while, I put her out of her misery and commented that I hoped the samples didn't clot before they'd got to the lab for testing (which is just across the corridor). I then told her I have APS, and I could see the relief on her face as she realised that I was aware there was something very wrong with my blood. After chatting about it a bit, she did comment that for only 5 weeks gestation, my blood was already pretty thick.

I guess it was good for me to hear that, because I was already thinking that unless taking the Clexane is ABSOLUTELY necessary, I would really rather forego. I really don't like the idea of injecting myself, plus it's hellishly expensive stuff and we still don't know whether the medical aid will pay for it, blah, blah. But seeing my blood today, and hearing her comment, made me realise that this little one is already at a disadvantage, because my blood just isn't doing what it's supposed to - it's already getting less oxygen and nutrients than it should. As a parent I have a responsibility to do whatever it takes to give this little one the best possible chance of survival... so if we have to scrap the building works and use the bond money to pay for this treatment instead, then I guess that's what we'll have to do. After all, what price do you put on a life?

On another level it was good to see my blood and hear the nurse's comment, because it's been so long since I was diagnosed (and I've been pretty much symptom free since then) that I've begun to doubt the diagnosis. I was contemplating going to a specialist haematologist and getting a repeat blood test done, just to check. I mean, who knows - maybe I've been miraculously healed???? Seeing those vials today though, it was so obvious, even to my untrained eye, that my blood was gloopy rather than runny, and gloopy ain't normal (unless you're talking about Bar-One sauce on ice cream...mmmm). A repeat blood test therefore is no longer necessary. If my blood is that thick even WITH the Ecotrin I've been taking, then imagine what it would be like without it. That freaks me out slightly. It's one thing having a diagnosis, or cause of stillbirth, written on a piece of paper. It's quite something else seeing the physical evidence in front of you when it's literally just come out of your arm. It's not like my blood had been sitting around for a while - 5 seconds at most!

It kind of puts things into perspective for me. It makes me more willing to haggle and fight with the medical aid. It makes me a little more desperate, a little more paranoid, a little more determined to win this 'fight'. Now that I KNOW what I'm up against, and what my baby is up against, I really am going to do everything in my power short of killing someone to make sure I can get these drugs.

It turns out that my gynae's patients have this unwritten code between them - anyone who no longer needs their Clexane donates it to her. While with her today, she gave me about a week's supply of injections - free of charge (that's about a quarter of my salary's worth). The only condition is that if I have any left over at the end of the 9 months, I donate it back in return. Seems fair to me. It means that while we haggle with the medical aid, I can get started on the drugs, rather than having to wait a week (or more) for approval (of course they're going to approve the drugs! I have faith.) Later tonight then, I'm heading back to the hospital to meet with the matron on duty who will show me how to do it. Tomorrow and the next day I will have to inject myself, but still at the hospital in front of her, so she can check I'm doing it right. Then I'm on my own.

Guess what song's playing my head now?? 'The things we do for love... the things we do for love.'

I have to admit that I'm a bit scared of this injecting business. I'm not scared of needles per se, but I have been injected by out-of-practice GPs before, and by very experienced nurses. With the nurses, it never hurts. With the GPs it ALWAYS hurts. I'm a lot less experienced than a GP. You figure it out.

Another incredible thing is that I already have ALL of my antenatal appointments booked, right up until the week we're planning to induce (which will be around the 10th June). That is so different to the UK, where you can only book the subsequent appointment at the time of the current one. Of course, as my gynae said, if the baby doesn't grow right (also a consequence of my APS), then we'll induce as early as we have to to give it the best shot at life, so we're taking this one week at a time.

My nausea has been in evidence for the past week or so. Horrible, yucky, all-day kind of nausea. I've come close to throwing up about twice so far, but fortunately nothing more. I've just discovered ginger sweets, which work a treat at keeping the nausea at bay, but of course, being so spicy, I can only have a limited amount every day.

But this too shall pass. In the mean time, I'm thrilled that everything is going well with the baby. In that I rejoice.