This week I've been enjoying the little things. Snuggling up on the sofa with my husband and cats, spending time with friends, watching birds in the garden, and slowly working my way through the Game of Thrones boxset.

This week has been much better than last week, and significantly better than the week before.

The week before, at 11 weeks and 5 days pregnant, I was taken into hospital with severe abdominal pains.

At first I thought I was just constipated - a common 'gift' of pregnancy - I had a dull ache in my lower belly, but after a few hours the pain changed, it got worse, it became a cramping sensation that squeezed my entire abdomen. If I moved the pain intensified, my stomach cramped so violently I felt like I couldn't breathe. It was at this point Andy dialled 111.

They sent an ambulance. It took over two hours to arrive. The paramedics gave me gas and air, and once in the ambulance IV paracetamol, which eased the pain a little. In A&E, they took away the gas and air as it belonged on the ambulance and they couldn't leave without it.

I was left in a corridor for a while, then I was moved and left in a cubicle. It wasn't until a nurse walked by and saw me during a cramping episode that I got some attention. I had no idea how long I'd been there, but Andy tells me it was a few hours. I was given some pain relief that took the edge off the pain, but still it was pretty bad.

I had an IV line in each hand and had my heart rate and blood pressure monitored, but no one could offer any explanation. The medical staff were lovely, and very kind, but no one seemed to know what to do with me.

I willed myself to stay as still as I possibly could, but even then sometimes the cramping would take hold and I'd be doubled up in pain. Sometime in the early hours I was taken to the emergency gynae unit, and left in a corridor. The Doctor was in surgery and had other patients to see. The pain relief I was given in A&E wore off.

When I was seen by the Doctor, she stood watching me as the pain took hold once, twice, and then a third time. She kept asking me questions. I remember thinking 'why aren't you helping me?' I realise now that she was assessing me.

It was at this point, at nearly 5am, over 12 hours after dialling 111, that I was given some pain relief that finally eased the pain. I could relax enough to be examined and was told that my cervix was closed and as I'd had no bleeding, it was a good sign. I allowed myself to hope that our baby would be OK.

I was moved to a room on the gynae ward and told I would have an ultrasound scan at 8:20am that morning. There is no out-of-hours emergency sonographer at my local hospital, which is why they couldn't ascertain what was wrong, and why they could do little to help me.

At 9:45am I was taken for my ultrasound scan. The sonographer took her time to assess the situation, and then she told me that my pregnancy was ectopic, our baby had a heartbeat but was outside of the womb.

She didn't have to tell me what this meant.

Things happened very quickly from here. An ectopic pregnancy can be life threatening and within less half an hour I was being wheeled into surgery. We were told I'd be back on the ward within a few hours, but I didn't return to the ward until gone 6pm that evening.

I can not imagine what Andy must have gone through, sitting alone in that little room, waiting all that time for me to be wheeled back in.

I had laparoscopic surgery and, among other complications, they discovered that I had internal bleeding, which was the cause of the pain. They estimated that I'd been bleeding for a week, and where very surprised that I'd felt no pain before.

These things meant surgery took much longer than expected, I was given six units of blood and stayed in recovery for hours, although I remember little of this.

Despite unexpected complications, the surgery went well. I'd been very lucky.

I stayed in hospital for four nights, being discharged on the day I was meant to have my 12 week scan. As we'd approached our scan date we'd allowed ourselves to relax a little and get excited about telling our family and friends our good news.

I've been home a fortnight. I've been taking it easy, with Andy and my Mum looking after me.

Physically I feel OK, I get tired easily but I can feel myself getting stronger everyday. Small things feel like huge steps forward - being able to yawn without pain, being able to get in and out of the bath unaided, eating a proper sized meal - these things all seem like little victories.

But emotionally I still feel numb. It feels surreal, like it didn't happen, or it happened to someone else. I can feel the aftermath lurking, knowing will hit me one day soon. I've been told that it's common, that my body is focussed on healing physically, and that the emotions will come later.

For now I'm taking it easy, appreciating the little things, enjoying every little victory, comforted by the fact that I'm surrounded by love and support.

Time will heal, I know that, but I can't help but wish I was already on the other side of what's still to come.