the dreaded d&c….

On return to admissions the midwife puts in the call to “Dr M”, she explains everything to him over the phone, hangs up and informs me I’m going to have a d&c that day. Although I knew there was a chance of having it I still wasn’t prepared, I asked her would I see Dr M but she said not until I went up to the ward. 5 mins later who should appear…… He remembered me straight away, sat down beside me and explained everything that was going to happen, he even told me himself and his wife had a miscarriage and went on to have more children. I felt a little bit better, well for a while anyway….

The midwife warned me it was going to be a long wait and I had to fast!! No one had told me this, all I could think about was the cappuccino I didn’t have that morning, I am nothing without my daily cappuccino. I sat in admissions for 4 hours yawning away(no coffee symptom) trying to keep the caffeine shakes at bay. There is no fear of getting bored in the Limerick Maternity admissions as you can hear every single conversation that goes on because there is absolutely no privacy, it’s amazing the amount of miscarriages there is and pregnancy problems. On my pregnancy with the princess I never went near the hospital until I was due as I had gone private and flew through the pregnancy with no issues whatsoever!

Eventually I got my line in and signed my life away after being told the risks with the d&c, I could bleed to death, I could end up with an infection or they could affect my fertility by damaging the lining of the womb, not quite put that way of course! Gee thanks, it all sounds pretty straight forward. I was brought up to the ward, no private rooms available of course so ended up in a 3 bed ward for d&cers. The bed beside me contained a very young girl with her not very young boyfriend who I was afraid to look at in case he killed me. They spent the day smooching, a curtain doesn’t provide much privacy, smooching was the last thing on my mind, Bru would be lucky to hold my hand again! The midwife brought my lovely gown and Dr M arrived in within seconds and explained to me what was going to happen. He inserted the tablet that opens the cervix while everyone in the room could hear him “open your legs wide now”. I’d swear I heard a snigger from the smoochers next door. He told me I’d be going in to theatre in 4 hours and to ask for pain relief if the pain got too much for me, ah no one told me about any pain. He left with his usual “see you later alligator”…..

The 4 hours passed pretty slowly with my mind going crazy…

“will I wake up from the anesthetic???”

“what if it doesn’t work and I feel everything”?? I had read this in an issue of Take a Break in the hairdressers once, it has stayed with me for life….

“what if it is ectopic”???

and most importantly “god damit why didn’t I have a coffee this morning and what if I never had coffee again…..”

My temperature and blood pressure were checked every hour and I had very little pain which had me all worried then because supposedly pain is a good thing, it means the cervix is opening. I had never wanted pain and coffee so bad!! At 5.30 on the dot as promised Mary the midwife(she was such a sweetie) came to collect me. The smoochers weren’t too happy as they had been there before me and if the d&c didn’t kill me the male smoocher was going to. Mary brought the wheelchair for me and just as I was sitting into it while trying to keep my dignity and my” little” behind covered in my hospital gown, the other midwife screams at the top of her voice “YOUR BRAAAAAAAAAA”. Jesus Christ, I was a bundle of nerves already, she gave me a heart attack, I had forgotten to remove it and it was obviously a very dangerous situation to find oneself in. I attempted to take it off in the wheelchair while the 2 of them discussed #bragate….

“Jesus Mary thank god I noticed it….”

Mary -” god I ever noticed it, thank god you did”

“imagine what would have happened Mary if I hadn’t noticed it” (me wondering what would have happened??)

Mary- I can’t imagine, just as well you noticed it….

disclaimer – slightly exaggerated for entertainment purposes:)

In the meantime I’m struggling to get it off without showing all and sundry my nether regions so I have to take myself back into my quarters to remove the dangerous object and we’re back on the road. The last time I had been in theatre was for my emergency c-section which aren’t the fondest of memories so needless to say I was shxtless…… As we arrived in there was a lady being wheeled out with her little bundle of joy, she looked like she had been to hell and back and had just been treated for a third degree tear but I would have swapped with her there and then.

The theatre nurse accompanies me into theatre, she can tell a mile away I’m a bundle of nerves, the sandpaper mouth gives it away. Normally when you’re nervous and your heart is pounding in your chest you can hide it but oh no, not in theatre. She hooks me up to a 500″ monitor(ok maybe slight exaggeration) with surround sound speakers that can probably be heard down in the cafe, it’s all I can hear. They all smile sympathetically at me, the poor pet she’s nervous, I just want to scream “I DON’T WANNA DIE………….”

 He gives me the injection and asks me do I feel light headed and drunk, eh no but I could do with a drink, a G&T if you’re asking!! He then puts the mask on me and tells me to go to sleep, NO WAY! My eyes start fighting back, I can’t breathe with the stupid mask, it’s not working, I’m not going to fall asleep, I’M GONNA DIE……..

You can wake up now Lorraine…..

As I wake up I hear the nurse say to Dr M “are you sure it’s not ectopic” and my heart sinks. They wheel me out and I tell them

“I wasssh havings lovely dreams aboutch feeching Paul O’Connell, I feech Paul O’Connell 4 chimes a week….”

Ah MORTO, like they care! Dr M replies he must come out to eat in our place sometime and then proceeds to tell me he still can’t rule out ectopic as there wasn’t a lot of “product” and he’s a bit worried so they will have to keep an eye on me and my hcg levels. I’m still trying to get over the embarrassment of bragging about feeding Paul O’Connell and just nod away not really listening. Everything is stable and I’m wheeled back to my quarters. I ring Bru to tell him I didn’t die and to bring me food.

 Ectopic schmopic I’m frickin starving…..


7 thoughts on “the dreaded d&c….

  1. Not many a woman can make an horrendous story sound so funny! I love Reading these even though I know it must have been horrible for you. Your writings rings very much of Ms Keyes ;0) You’re very brave Lor xx

  2. Lor, I’m so sorry to hear about what happened, it sounds like a nightmare, but as Ethans Mommy says, you make a horrendous story sound funny. If you get sick of the italian catering industry there’s a book in you for sure.



    • Thanks Maz and EM:) There is always a funny side I suppose so if I can share my experience with a bit of humour it helps keep me sane too…

      • same first name and same story about d and c!great to hear a funny version of the trauma we had to go through!!went through it only last nite in galway and didnt think i would be sittin here less than twenty fours later laughin at your story……….mine was similar not with the bra but with knickers……..even worse……..but it did distract me from the horrors of entering the theatre!
        im your friend-clarice’s- first cousin so she tipped me off about your blog………glad to hear you have one bundle of joy…….it was our first pregnancy so there is hope!
        thanks again for the humour and will pop in for some yummy food when i eventually get down to clar,donnacha,josh and isabelle.

  3. Irish society is a very closed and private when it comes to this subject matter and its people like you Lors than encourage people to talk. Thank you for sharing.

    • Thanks Maeve, I did debate about writing about it as a lot of people would know me but if my story can help anyone else going through it, it makes it worthwhile. I know when I was going through it, the personal stories of others I found online made it easier because I knew I wasn’t alone. Hope you’re good:)

  4. Pingback: d&c numero 2…. « mamma bella

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