The dream I seem to be having over and over these days is one that haunts me in my waking hours. Probably something to do with the freshness of having been told 10 days ago that our baby’s heart was no longer beating and waiting for the impending ERPC this Thursday.
In my dream I can feel our baby is still alive and strong and wriggling comfortably about inside when they force me into anaesthesia and rip out the baby in an ERPC only to realise afterwards that they made a huge mistake and they should have read the scan report properly. They confirm sheepishly that 1) this was my last chance to have a child and 2) I will have a 99% chance of developing Alzheimer’s later in life as a result of my choice to have the ERPC but that not to be discouraged because at least I’ll forget about the need to have my own child. They briskly, sheepishly apologise and ask us to please leave quickly because the waiting room is filling up with happy couples who are waiting for their positive 12 week scan report in order to be discharged to a local hospital for the duration of their joyously uneventful pregnancies.
The strongest feelings I get from this dream? Dread. Regret. The recognition the authorities got it wrong.