Thank you all for your support. This has been a very difficult week. Often, just thinking about blogging makes me cry, because it makes the whole thing real. I've been in the denial phase, I suppose. Watching a lot of DVDs at nights instead of thinking.
Everywhere I go, I wonder: will this be where I miscarry? Will this be where I lose my baby?
But now, today, I think it will be here, at home. I'm having some spotting and horrible, horrible cramps, and I am not going anywhere. The cramps woke me up this morning, and I decided to just stay home. My husband asked if I wanted him to call in as well, but I told him to just go. In a way, I want this day alone with my baby. 7w6d, technically, and I think it may be my last day.
I'm still crying, a lot.
This year, our wedding anniversary is on Mother's Day. Weeks ago, my husband had told me he was so excited, that it would be such a special day, that he was making secret plans. I assume those plans are cancelled. I will have another babyless, pregnancy-free Mother's Day. We will not have a baby this Thanksgiving. We will not have a baby this Christmas. We will not ring in the New Year with a midnight feeding. We will not be bringing a newborn to my niece's 2nd birthday. We will not celebrate Valentine's Day with our baby in my arms.
How is it that the good can be uncertain, but the bad is horribly set in stone?
Yes, I am wallowing in self-pity. As awful as it sounds: I think I am ready to miscarry. I want to move on from this wait, I want to discuss trying again with our last 2 embryos, I want to stop being afraid that I will see blood. I accept that it is inevitable. My uterus, today, is making that extremely clear. So I want my life back, my hopes back. And I hate myself for feeling this way.
Thursday, March 31, 2011
Sunday, March 27, 2011
Saddest Story in Six Words
Rumor has it that Ernest Hemingway made a bet that he could write a short story in only six words. The story he wrote, on a napkin, is the saddest story in the world.
For Sale: Baby shoes, never worn.
When I first heard this, years and years and years ago, I assumed it was about a baby who died before he was big enough to fit into the shoes.
When I spent nearly two years chasing (but not catching) a BFP, I came to believe the story was about a couple who bought a pair of shoes when they began trying, eager to fill those shoes with a baby made from their love, their hopes, their dreams. And they did not succeed, and decided to sell the shoes as a way of making peace with their childless existence.
And now...now I think those shoes were for my baby. The baby I was pregnant with. The baby that I am (I assume) still pregnant with. The baby who will never wear shoes, never even have feet. The baby I am waiting to "pass".
Not to pass away, because that has, according to my terse doctor, already happened. I am waiting for it to pass through.
This is the hardest wait I have ever had.
For Sale: Baby shoes, never worn.
When I first heard this, years and years and years ago, I assumed it was about a baby who died before he was big enough to fit into the shoes.
When I spent nearly two years chasing (but not catching) a BFP, I came to believe the story was about a couple who bought a pair of shoes when they began trying, eager to fill those shoes with a baby made from their love, their hopes, their dreams. And they did not succeed, and decided to sell the shoes as a way of making peace with their childless existence.
And now...now I think those shoes were for my baby. The baby I was pregnant with. The baby that I am (I assume) still pregnant with. The baby who will never wear shoes, never even have feet. The baby I am waiting to "pass".
Not to pass away, because that has, according to my terse doctor, already happened. I am waiting for it to pass through.
This is the hardest wait I have ever had.
Saturday, March 26, 2011
No baby
No heartbeat. No baby. Not even a yolk sac. Just a gestational sac, measuring behind, though I don't know how behind.
No progesterone. No estrogen. No hope.
I wait, now, to lose my baby. The baby that isn't there, but should have been. The baby I loved, talked to, planned for.
I am lost.
No progesterone. No estrogen. No hope.
I wait, now, to lose my baby. The baby that isn't there, but should have been. The baby I loved, talked to, planned for.
I am lost.
Friday, March 25, 2011
7w0d: Scan tomorrow
I'm worried sick. Or at least, I'm worried, and I'm sick. I threw up three times at work today. I went home early and now (20 minutes later), I realized I left my ginger at work!! I guess I'll have to buy more. (Which is code for, when I give my husband money to go get dinner tonight, since I'm sure as hell not cooking, I'll ask him to get some.)
That's really it. My entire life is consumed with "please let there be a heartbeat".
I'll be normal (or distraught) after tomorrow.
That's really it. My entire life is consumed with "please let there be a heartbeat".
I'll be normal (or distraught) after tomorrow.
Wednesday, March 23, 2011
6w5d: Me and my CPA
This year, we decided to have an accountant do our taxes. I am (technically, though really, not so much) an independent contractor, so I have to take care of all my own tax stuff. Add that to our medical deductions this year (umm...huge, thank you failed IVFs), and we figured it would be safer, and hopefully audit-avoiding, to pay someone else to sort through it all.
Yesterday (what? I'm only kind of a slacker, there's still almost a month to go), I took all the stuff in and sat down with the CPA. He surprised me by, when I told him our medical expenses and handed over a huge folder of receipts, asking if we'd done IVF.
"Well, yes..." I replied, kind of unsure where this was going. He looked maybe 50ish? And, well, he's a dude.
"What's it run these days?"
"Umm..." Ok, I mean, he does have my receipts in his hands, but I still feel totally, totally awkward talking about money. God, the fact that we spent all our savings on this is private!
"Because when my wife and I did it, 7 years ago, it was like 10 grand a pop. Took us four times to get our little girl."
Well holy shit! We then proceeded to have a huge conversation about it. He went to the other clinic in town, but one of our doctors was the same (Dr. H...my clinic poached him). He and his wife never had any frozen embryos, and he thinks its awesome that we did and that that's how I'm pregnant. (Oh come on, like you wouldn't have shared.) He asked me if my hips were killing me, and then told me his wife still has some intramuscular welts. Oh dear. He wanted to go back for more kids, but his wife didn't agree, and now he takes his daughter mini-golfing and such.
Despite the fact that he used "implanted" for "transferred", it was an incredibly conversation. Outside of my clinic and the internet, he's the first person who's ever discussed his IVF with me. It was very random, and also...it felt really good.
I've been very worried this past week. My symptoms are still present, but...well, the notion of me having a baby with an actual heartbeat is hard to grasp. I so hope it happens, but I'm terrified it won't.
Seeing the pictures of his little girl gave me (as lame as it sounds) a bit of hope. And it sure made doing my taxes a heck of a lot more pleasant.
Yesterday (what? I'm only kind of a slacker, there's still almost a month to go), I took all the stuff in and sat down with the CPA. He surprised me by, when I told him our medical expenses and handed over a huge folder of receipts, asking if we'd done IVF.
"Well, yes..." I replied, kind of unsure where this was going. He looked maybe 50ish? And, well, he's a dude.
"What's it run these days?"
"Umm..." Ok, I mean, he does have my receipts in his hands, but I still feel totally, totally awkward talking about money. God, the fact that we spent all our savings on this is private!
"Because when my wife and I did it, 7 years ago, it was like 10 grand a pop. Took us four times to get our little girl."
Well holy shit! We then proceeded to have a huge conversation about it. He went to the other clinic in town, but one of our doctors was the same (Dr. H...my clinic poached him). He and his wife never had any frozen embryos, and he thinks its awesome that we did and that that's how I'm pregnant. (Oh come on, like you wouldn't have shared.) He asked me if my hips were killing me, and then told me his wife still has some intramuscular welts. Oh dear. He wanted to go back for more kids, but his wife didn't agree, and now he takes his daughter mini-golfing and such.
Despite the fact that he used "implanted" for "transferred", it was an incredibly conversation. Outside of my clinic and the internet, he's the first person who's ever discussed his IVF with me. It was very random, and also...it felt really good.
I've been very worried this past week. My symptoms are still present, but...well, the notion of me having a baby with an actual heartbeat is hard to grasp. I so hope it happens, but I'm terrified it won't.
Seeing the pictures of his little girl gave me (as lame as it sounds) a bit of hope. And it sure made doing my taxes a heck of a lot more pleasant.
Sunday, March 20, 2011
6w2d: Mixed Bag
I was asked why my clinic added Crinone to the mix. My p4 at 17DPO was 22. Not bad, but not stellar, so my dose was increased to 1.5ml. At 19DPO, it was 21, so that extra half a ml didn't seem to be doing much. Then at 22DPO, it was 16. I was clearly trending in the wrong direction. I take my PIO shot at night, so it's possible my levels get even lower in the afternoon/evening. When I started spotting, because the pregnancy is not ectopic after all, my doom and gloom clinic brought up two scenarios: blighted ovum (SHUT UP!) or low progesterone.
They thought I should either increase the PIO to 2ml, one in the morning and one at night, or go vaginal. My ass...is full of bruises and welts. Which isn't just unsightly and ouchy, but it also makes it more difficult for the progesterone to be absorbed. (There's bad circulation in the welts and bruises, and oftentimes the body kind of "walls off" those areas until they're repaired.) So increasing the frequency of injections, they said, probably would not be the best idea. So I agreed to go vaginal, and I hated Endometrin and just simply strongly disliked Crinone, so Crinone it is.
I'm also off the aspirin.
I know I said I didn't ask how my pregnancy was measuring. And I wasn't lying. But they did print off several sheets of information along with my ultrasound pictures. I had a dinner-date with some friends right after our appointment, so my husband took the papers home and I never asked about them. Yesterday I found them and flipped through them.
At 5w3d, my sac was measuring 4w6d. So 4 days behind, which I've read is within the margin of error for ultrasounds. But with my low hCG levels, I do think my baby might be a bit small.
I'm not super-concerned, but I'm not exactly reassured either. I'm starting to get a bit anxious for my next ultrasound. My doctor-sister is flying out for it. My mother is insisting on going as well. My forensics-sister will probably insist on coming as well, because she won't want to be left out. So there will be a lot of people in this little room. I hope it's good news.
I guess part of me is afraid to be as joyful as I was during my first week, because the fall was so hard. But I really want to be back in that place: pregnant and thrilled. I do continue to have morning sickness and exhaustion and breast soreness (and crazy dreams...), so I'm hopeful. But I don't think I can throw caution to the winds till after next Saturday's results.
They thought I should either increase the PIO to 2ml, one in the morning and one at night, or go vaginal. My ass...is full of bruises and welts. Which isn't just unsightly and ouchy, but it also makes it more difficult for the progesterone to be absorbed. (There's bad circulation in the welts and bruises, and oftentimes the body kind of "walls off" those areas until they're repaired.) So increasing the frequency of injections, they said, probably would not be the best idea. So I agreed to go vaginal, and I hated Endometrin and just simply strongly disliked Crinone, so Crinone it is.
I'm also off the aspirin.
I know I said I didn't ask how my pregnancy was measuring. And I wasn't lying. But they did print off several sheets of information along with my ultrasound pictures. I had a dinner-date with some friends right after our appointment, so my husband took the papers home and I never asked about them. Yesterday I found them and flipped through them.
At 5w3d, my sac was measuring 4w6d. So 4 days behind, which I've read is within the margin of error for ultrasounds. But with my low hCG levels, I do think my baby might be a bit small.
I'm not super-concerned, but I'm not exactly reassured either. I'm starting to get a bit anxious for my next ultrasound. My doctor-sister is flying out for it. My mother is insisting on going as well. My forensics-sister will probably insist on coming as well, because she won't want to be left out. So there will be a lot of people in this little room. I hope it's good news.
I guess part of me is afraid to be as joyful as I was during my first week, because the fall was so hard. But I really want to be back in that place: pregnant and thrilled. I do continue to have morning sickness and exhaustion and breast soreness (and crazy dreams...), so I'm hopeful. But I don't think I can throw caution to the winds till after next Saturday's results.
Thursday, March 17, 2011
5w6d: Two Secrets
I have kept two big secrets from you guys.
The first: I spotted/bled on Monday. It was beyond terrifying. I figured my pregnancy was, indeed, ectopic, and that the end was near. I didn't write about it, because I was too scared, too sad. I just held my breath until my ultrasound. And, of course, my clinic was running late. I sat numbly in the chair, waiting, while my husband held my hand. I just kept thinking "this is so unfair, so horrible, this simply cannot be happening".
And then it wasn't happening. I cried when I saw the black dot in my uterus. I was so relieved. I felt like I'd been given a second chance. So when my clinic suggested I add Crinone back into the mix, I didn't hesitate. Yes, I will stick that goopy, crumbly, gross shit up my vagina. How many times a day? Only once? Are you sure? Because it's a small price to pay.
And the spotting is gone, the bleeding is gone, when I "evacuate" the Crinone each morning, it is...well, not pink.
That is how Monday was the worst morning and afternoon, but best evening, of my life.
My second secret: I'm glad it's not twins. Before I go on, let me say I would of course welcome twins. I put two embryos back, after all. I have no known medical reason to not carry twins. And twins are so cute, and if we had twins, we might be done building our family right then. I could buy a double stroller! So yes, I am not entirely opposed to twins.
However.
Twin pregnancies are riskier. Twin pregnancies are much less likely to go full term, and much more likely to require time in the NICU. Twin pregnancies can knock you on your ass, what with the increased everything. And twin births are harder. Twins are much more likely to need a C-section. Sections are great and life-saving to moms and babies, but not my first choice. I want as few medications and interventions as possible (but still going to a hospital, not doing it at home!), and I would very much like to take my baby home with me, rather than visiting it in the NICU.
And, to be honest, twins are expensive. No hand-me-downs. Two of everything. Difficult (I imagine) to breastfeed. Difficult to carry at the same time. I bet you get less sleep. I bet the diaper-changing consumes your whole life. I admire moms of multiples. I'm sure I could rise to the challenge if I needed to, but I'm kind of relieved I won't have to test that.
I feel a bit guilty feeling like this. After all, I did love both my embryos, and do wish both of them had made it. But having only one will be easier, and I feel a bit let off the hook.
So yeah. Those are my secrets.
The first: I spotted/bled on Monday. It was beyond terrifying. I figured my pregnancy was, indeed, ectopic, and that the end was near. I didn't write about it, because I was too scared, too sad. I just held my breath until my ultrasound. And, of course, my clinic was running late. I sat numbly in the chair, waiting, while my husband held my hand. I just kept thinking "this is so unfair, so horrible, this simply cannot be happening".
And then it wasn't happening. I cried when I saw the black dot in my uterus. I was so relieved. I felt like I'd been given a second chance. So when my clinic suggested I add Crinone back into the mix, I didn't hesitate. Yes, I will stick that goopy, crumbly, gross shit up my vagina. How many times a day? Only once? Are you sure? Because it's a small price to pay.
And the spotting is gone, the bleeding is gone, when I "evacuate" the Crinone each morning, it is...well, not pink.
That is how Monday was the worst morning and afternoon, but best evening, of my life.
My second secret: I'm glad it's not twins. Before I go on, let me say I would of course welcome twins. I put two embryos back, after all. I have no known medical reason to not carry twins. And twins are so cute, and if we had twins, we might be done building our family right then. I could buy a double stroller! So yes, I am not entirely opposed to twins.
However.
Twin pregnancies are riskier. Twin pregnancies are much less likely to go full term, and much more likely to require time in the NICU. Twin pregnancies can knock you on your ass, what with the increased everything. And twin births are harder. Twins are much more likely to need a C-section. Sections are great and life-saving to moms and babies, but not my first choice. I want as few medications and interventions as possible (but still going to a hospital, not doing it at home!), and I would very much like to take my baby home with me, rather than visiting it in the NICU.
And, to be honest, twins are expensive. No hand-me-downs. Two of everything. Difficult (I imagine) to breastfeed. Difficult to carry at the same time. I bet you get less sleep. I bet the diaper-changing consumes your whole life. I admire moms of multiples. I'm sure I could rise to the challenge if I needed to, but I'm kind of relieved I won't have to test that.
I feel a bit guilty feeling like this. After all, I did love both my embryos, and do wish both of them had made it. But having only one will be easier, and I feel a bit let off the hook.
So yeah. Those are my secrets.
Monday, March 14, 2011
5w3d: Intrauterine!!!
I've got one little guy hanging out IN MY UTERUS! I am thrilled beyond words. They saw the gestational and yolk sacs. Nothing more, but I wasn't expecting anything more. They did not tell me if my baby is measuring behind and frankly, I do not want to know. I also refused additional betas (but took them up on increasing my progesterone).
I go back at 7w1d. In the meantime, I will talk to my uterus and the baby inside (right smack dab in the middle).
Thank god this is over, and thank god I'm pregnant!!!!
I go back at 7w1d. In the meantime, I will talk to my uterus and the baby inside (right smack dab in the middle).
Thank god this is over, and thank god I'm pregnant!!!!
Sunday, March 13, 2011
5w2d: How I've Been Coping
I keep thinking of things I want to write, but then I'm at work or with people and then, when I have time to write, I've just gotten another shitty beta.
So here, in my pre-ultrasound, beta-less day, I will blog.
Last Saturday, when I was filled with joy, I found out a woman about 45 minutes away was having a bog cloth diaper garage sale. She also owns a cloth diaper store and was having steep discounts on some new items as well. I've been very interested in cloth diapering for several years, and brought it up when JimDear suggested we start stocking up on (disposable) diapers now so the cost wouldn't hit us all at once. He was...not entirely excited about the idea, but willing to consider it. So I went to the sale, just to get a feel of cloth diapering (I'd never even seen a cloth diaper in person before). To say I fell in love is an understatement.
I came home with about 12 diapers--most new, some used--for less than $80. I got ones in every style--prefolds, covers, pockets, fitteds, all-in-ones. Adorable. I spent over an hour an and half at this sale, marvelling that I would soon have a tiny bum to put in tiny diapers. I told the woman that I was pregnant with my first, and she got all excited for me. I was so happy. I showed JimDear my "stash" and he immediately said YES! He was envisioning the old-school, pin-and-rinse-in-the-toilet kind, and thinks these will be wonderful.
Now, when I am feeling sad, I go into the guest room and hold some of my diapers. I snap and un-snap (or applix and un-applix) them, stuff and un-stuff them, stroke the soft velour, marvel that some of them are actually made from bamboo. This cheers me up without fail. I also "research" on the internet. Which means I've bought another 3 diapers. But from now on, I'm just browsing, I swear.
One way or another, sooner or later, I will have a baby to diaper.
I also bought a maternity bra. I needed a new bra--despite my low betas, my breasts are sure growing--and figured why the hell not. I bought this new bra at Motherhood yesterday. It was the first time I've been in that store. I tried on a whole ton of clothing with their fake-belly thing velcroed around my waist. I looked adorable. I only felt sad at the end, when I was checking out with only the bra. I want a belly to pet while I talk to the baby. This gave me an idea of what I would look like, how others would see me. Just like a mommy-to-be. Which I am, for the time being at the very least.
I've cried about three times. I've moped a lot. I've done way too much research--both in my trusty Mayo book and online--on ectopics. I really don't want one. To say the least.
I've called my sister after every beta. She is surprising me by doing some research. MFI, it turns out, can cause low betas. (It can also cause blighted ovums. (Ovi?) Let's hope my embryologist choose some good ones.) ICSI can cause lower betas. FETs can cause lower betas. 5-day-transfers have lower betas, on average, than 3-days. And boys might have lower numbers than girls. We have MFI, did ICSI, did a FET, had a 5dt, and that stupid Chinese gender predictor thing says I'm having a boy.
I read that the embryos start making hCG before they even implant. It's possible my little guy(s) implanted much later than I thought, even perhaps after my first positive HPT. Anything, I've heard, can happen with FETs.
I pee daily. My line still isn't as dark as the control. I'm not sure if it ever will become as dark, since it's held steady at almost-as-dark for 3 days now. Damn internet cheapies.
JimDear and I discuss names until one of us trails off. We decided to make the guest room into the nursery, not the office as originally planned.
I passed my drug screen and background check and officially accepted the offer for nursing school. I might have to take a semester off. I might not.
I am not spotting. I am not cramping. I am not having any pain. I am nauseous. I vomit about once a day. I can smell things from far away. I can also, I swear, smell mildew all over our house.
I just...cope. My ultrasound is not until 4:45pm tomorrow. JimDear and I will both be going. We are hoping to see a neat little sac, properly placed in my uterus.
Until we have concrete evidence otherwise, I am pregnant, goddamnit.
So here, in my pre-ultrasound, beta-less day, I will blog.
Last Saturday, when I was filled with joy, I found out a woman about 45 minutes away was having a bog cloth diaper garage sale. She also owns a cloth diaper store and was having steep discounts on some new items as well. I've been very interested in cloth diapering for several years, and brought it up when JimDear suggested we start stocking up on (disposable) diapers now so the cost wouldn't hit us all at once. He was...not entirely excited about the idea, but willing to consider it. So I went to the sale, just to get a feel of cloth diapering (I'd never even seen a cloth diaper in person before). To say I fell in love is an understatement.
I came home with about 12 diapers--most new, some used--for less than $80. I got ones in every style--prefolds, covers, pockets, fitteds, all-in-ones. Adorable. I spent over an hour an and half at this sale, marvelling that I would soon have a tiny bum to put in tiny diapers. I told the woman that I was pregnant with my first, and she got all excited for me. I was so happy. I showed JimDear my "stash" and he immediately said YES! He was envisioning the old-school, pin-and-rinse-in-the-toilet kind, and thinks these will be wonderful.
Now, when I am feeling sad, I go into the guest room and hold some of my diapers. I snap and un-snap (or applix and un-applix) them, stuff and un-stuff them, stroke the soft velour, marvel that some of them are actually made from bamboo. This cheers me up without fail. I also "research" on the internet. Which means I've bought another 3 diapers. But from now on, I'm just browsing, I swear.
One way or another, sooner or later, I will have a baby to diaper.
I also bought a maternity bra. I needed a new bra--despite my low betas, my breasts are sure growing--and figured why the hell not. I bought this new bra at Motherhood yesterday. It was the first time I've been in that store. I tried on a whole ton of clothing with their fake-belly thing velcroed around my waist. I looked adorable. I only felt sad at the end, when I was checking out with only the bra. I want a belly to pet while I talk to the baby. This gave me an idea of what I would look like, how others would see me. Just like a mommy-to-be. Which I am, for the time being at the very least.
I've cried about three times. I've moped a lot. I've done way too much research--both in my trusty Mayo book and online--on ectopics. I really don't want one. To say the least.
I've called my sister after every beta. She is surprising me by doing some research. MFI, it turns out, can cause low betas. (It can also cause blighted ovums. (Ovi?) Let's hope my embryologist choose some good ones.) ICSI can cause lower betas. FETs can cause lower betas. 5-day-transfers have lower betas, on average, than 3-days. And boys might have lower numbers than girls. We have MFI, did ICSI, did a FET, had a 5dt, and that stupid Chinese gender predictor thing says I'm having a boy.
I read that the embryos start making hCG before they even implant. It's possible my little guy(s) implanted much later than I thought, even perhaps after my first positive HPT. Anything, I've heard, can happen with FETs.
I pee daily. My line still isn't as dark as the control. I'm not sure if it ever will become as dark, since it's held steady at almost-as-dark for 3 days now. Damn internet cheapies.
JimDear and I discuss names until one of us trails off. We decided to make the guest room into the nursery, not the office as originally planned.
I passed my drug screen and background check and officially accepted the offer for nursing school. I might have to take a semester off. I might not.
I am not spotting. I am not cramping. I am not having any pain. I am nauseous. I vomit about once a day. I can smell things from far away. I can also, I swear, smell mildew all over our house.
I just...cope. My ultrasound is not until 4:45pm tomorrow. JimDear and I will both be going. We are hoping to see a neat little sac, properly placed in my uterus.
Until we have concrete evidence otherwise, I am pregnant, goddamnit.
Saturday, March 12, 2011
5w1d: Beta still low
Well, my third beta is in already--297 at 22 DPO. Doubling time of 73.06.
My clinic is pretty unhappy. They're having me in on Monday for an ultrasound to rule out ectopic.
I don't know what to make of it. The time is slower than the last one. It's still low.
But...it's still going up. So that's good, right?
My clinic is pretty unhappy. They're having me in on Monday for an ultrasound to rule out ectopic.
I don't know what to make of it. The time is slower than the last one. It's still low.
But...it's still going up. So that's good, right?
Thursday, March 10, 2011
I Keep Forgetting to Say...
how much I love you all. I don't know what I would do without this blog, and without all you wonderful readers/commenters. My husband is a truly amazing man and is being as supportive as he possibly can...but he asks things like "what's a doubling time?" and "what does ectopic mean?"
Being able to pour my heart out--the good and the bad--and know that someone somewhere gets it means the whole world.
And there were exactly two good things about Tuesday: one is the book my husband bought me to "take my mind off" (which he cleverly screened for pregnant characters), and the other is the lovely, lovely, thoughtful, wonderful gift I received from Ashley (http://onthelanai.blogspot.com/).
I felt like Dobby when he gets his first sock. Something inside me was freed from its prison of sorrow.
Thank you, Ashley. And thank you, all of you.
I love you guys.
Being able to pour my heart out--the good and the bad--and know that someone somewhere gets it means the whole world.
And there were exactly two good things about Tuesday: one is the book my husband bought me to "take my mind off" (which he cleverly screened for pregnant characters), and the other is the lovely, lovely, thoughtful, wonderful gift I received from Ashley (http://onthelanai.blogspot.com/).
I felt like Dobby when he gets his first sock. Something inside me was freed from its prison of sorrow.
Thank you, Ashley. And thank you, all of you.
I love you guys.
Wednesday, March 9, 2011
4w5d: 150
My second beta is 150! So a doubling time of 66.7!
My clinic is still not happy with it, but I am! They're having me go in again on Saturday. But as far as I'm concerned, maybe I lost a twin or maybe it's just a slow starter, but an almost-double means good news to me.
I guess I'm still kinda in beta hell (150 is very low for 19 days past "ovulation" and they want a doubling time of 48 hours or less), but it feels a lot less hellish.
My clinic is still not happy with it, but I am! They're having me go in again on Saturday. But as far as I'm concerned, maybe I lost a twin or maybe it's just a slow starter, but an almost-double means good news to me.
I guess I'm still kinda in beta hell (150 is very low for 19 days past "ovulation" and they want a doubling time of 48 hours or less), but it feels a lot less hellish.
Monday, March 7, 2011
I hurt
My doctor-sister says that, at four weeks, 100-700 is considered normal. I am at 4.5 weeks. For those commenters who are saying that "first betas" and "over 50" and such...please remember that my "first beta" is 3 days later than average. Than anyone I've encountered, frankly, except for those who do it on 15 days (I am 17) because 14 was on a Sunday.
Something is wrong. I am pinning my hopes on a vanishing twin (how else to explain the early HPTs and the puking?). But I just don't know. And how sad is it that my hope is to have ONE dead embryo instead of two? For god's sake. Who hopes for a dead baby?
But I haven't thrown in the towel.
Part of me really thinks this is my punishment for being so happy this past week. I don't know where that is coming from--I don't believe in God or karma or whatever--but I can't shake it. I feel like I "went overboard" with my happiness and so now it is being taken away. Like I brought this upon myself.
I am trying to be hopeful. But I just hurt so bad inside.
Something is wrong. I am pinning my hopes on a vanishing twin (how else to explain the early HPTs and the puking?). But I just don't know. And how sad is it that my hope is to have ONE dead embryo instead of two? For god's sake. Who hopes for a dead baby?
But I haven't thrown in the towel.
Part of me really thinks this is my punishment for being so happy this past week. I don't know where that is coming from--I don't believe in God or karma or whatever--but I can't shake it. I feel like I "went overboard" with my happiness and so now it is being taken away. Like I brought this upon myself.
I am trying to be hopeful. But I just hurt so bad inside.
4w3d: Bad beta
My beta at 17DPO is 90.
They are having me come in and get a 2nd one.
I am heartbroken. I know this is not entirely over, but I've been getting positive HPTs since 9DPO.
I feel sick.
They are having me come in and get a 2nd one.
I am heartbroken. I know this is not entirely over, but I've been getting positive HPTs since 9DPO.
I feel sick.
Sunday, March 6, 2011
4w2d: Major Accomplishments
I feel like I have so much to say. I have a feeling this will be a long and rambling post. I will try to be coherent.
First, I got into my top-choice nursing school. This is awesome. I felt like my application was half-assed, since I procrastinated and was still in the throes of depression when completing it. But I got in. The program starts in mid-May. I need to accept or decline by March 11th. Which is before my first ultrasound. I plan on accepting, but I have to say, I don't quite know what to do. I need to look into their deferment rules. Or what happens if I have to take some time off. Especially if I have twins. This is all very, very good news of course. But it can seem a little overwhelming.
Like, I clicked on the "click here to see your status" link (yes, they told me over email) on Friday at about 5pm. I was overjoyed to see CONGRATULATIONS but then it was followed by "You have 72 hours to get a drug screening test. This website records the time you opened the link." Of course I don't use illegal drugs (although I'll admit to adding the extra 1/1occ of progesterone every now and again...), so no biggie. Except I had to complete this form, and they need a whole background check as well. After I filled out the form, they said they would email me the drug-screen order form within 24 business hours. Look, this was on a Friday night. 72 hours is not 72 business hours. I have to get this test by Monday at 5pm. And they still haven't emailed me the form. Which is annoying. And Monday is my beta day, too. I have a feeling I will be calling the school on Monday morning.
I also might need to discuss the background check with them. They wanted all my addresses for the past 7 years. Their drop-down menu only had the United States as a country. I lived in central Africa from 2003-2005. So...yeah. I don't imagine they'll send out scouts or whatever it is they do, but I was unable to include that address and don't want to lie-by-omission to them. Not that I did anything illegal, but still.
And finally, applications for scholarships and financial aid are due April 1. Which is rather soon.
So there we have it: one major accomplishment that has a few complications with it as well.
Second major accomplishment: last night I had sex. Look, my RE said, in front of my husband, that sex was fine 48 hours after transfer. My Mayo clinic guide says it's fine all the time unless I have placenta previa or other conditions (in which case I should follow my doctor's advice). But I was very, very scared. And also, frankly, really pissed off that infertility was still controlling my sex life. I mean, for god's sake, I'm pregnant! Time to move on. (Although I don't think I'll ever "move on" from infertility, which is a subject for another post.)
My husband has been very understanding. We haven't had sex since the night before transfer (so 16 days, for those of you playing at home). Which is very unusual for us. We've done "other things", but I haven't orgasmed and frankly haven't felt all that intimate either.
So yeah, we did "it" last night. And no, I didn't orgasm (still too scared of shaking that little passenger (passengers?) loose). And honestly, no, I didn't really enjoy it. Because I was still very scared. But when we were done, I immediately checked and: no spotting. And this morning, still no spotting. I think we are in the clear and can go about having sex like normal married couples do in early pregnancy.
(Especially since I'm only 2 days "late". I mean hell, most married couples probably wouldn't even know they were pregnant yet. I am under the impression that normal people don't test until they are about a week late. I might be wrong, but still. And plus, it's not like HPTs have been around forever, or are even available in most parts of the world. So, yeah.)
So major accomplishment number two: saying fuck you to infertility and taking steps to reclaim my sex life.
Major accomplishment number three: Not stabbing all the fertiles in the face. Look, I joined my due date board on Fertility Friend. And all these fertiles are getting betas!!! WTF??? I'd never even heard of betas before entering the land if IF! So it makes me mad that they're all getting 2-3, whereas I, someone who actually did ART, only get the lousy one. I am taking a bit of a break from that board, because, although there are a few IFers, most are not, and they make me mad. And then I get mad at myself for being mad at them, because it's not like they're the reason I only get one beta or that I was infertile to begin with. I also went to a garage sale that had baby stuff and had to listen to a bunch of mommies talking about their 6 children blah blah. Wanted to punch them all too. I didn't, though, because I have self control.
So there's my third accomplishment: still being bitter but not acting on it.
I hope you're all doing well.
First, I got into my top-choice nursing school. This is awesome. I felt like my application was half-assed, since I procrastinated and was still in the throes of depression when completing it. But I got in. The program starts in mid-May. I need to accept or decline by March 11th. Which is before my first ultrasound. I plan on accepting, but I have to say, I don't quite know what to do. I need to look into their deferment rules. Or what happens if I have to take some time off. Especially if I have twins. This is all very, very good news of course. But it can seem a little overwhelming.
Like, I clicked on the "click here to see your status" link (yes, they told me over email) on Friday at about 5pm. I was overjoyed to see CONGRATULATIONS but then it was followed by "You have 72 hours to get a drug screening test. This website records the time you opened the link." Of course I don't use illegal drugs (although I'll admit to adding the extra 1/1occ of progesterone every now and again...), so no biggie. Except I had to complete this form, and they need a whole background check as well. After I filled out the form, they said they would email me the drug-screen order form within 24 business hours. Look, this was on a Friday night. 72 hours is not 72 business hours. I have to get this test by Monday at 5pm. And they still haven't emailed me the form. Which is annoying. And Monday is my beta day, too. I have a feeling I will be calling the school on Monday morning.
I also might need to discuss the background check with them. They wanted all my addresses for the past 7 years. Their drop-down menu only had the United States as a country. I lived in central Africa from 2003-2005. So...yeah. I don't imagine they'll send out scouts or whatever it is they do, but I was unable to include that address and don't want to lie-by-omission to them. Not that I did anything illegal, but still.
And finally, applications for scholarships and financial aid are due April 1. Which is rather soon.
So there we have it: one major accomplishment that has a few complications with it as well.
Second major accomplishment: last night I had sex. Look, my RE said, in front of my husband, that sex was fine 48 hours after transfer. My Mayo clinic guide says it's fine all the time unless I have placenta previa or other conditions (in which case I should follow my doctor's advice). But I was very, very scared. And also, frankly, really pissed off that infertility was still controlling my sex life. I mean, for god's sake, I'm pregnant! Time to move on. (Although I don't think I'll ever "move on" from infertility, which is a subject for another post.)
My husband has been very understanding. We haven't had sex since the night before transfer (so 16 days, for those of you playing at home). Which is very unusual for us. We've done "other things", but I haven't orgasmed and frankly haven't felt all that intimate either.
So yeah, we did "it" last night. And no, I didn't orgasm (still too scared of shaking that little passenger (passengers?) loose). And honestly, no, I didn't really enjoy it. Because I was still very scared. But when we were done, I immediately checked and: no spotting. And this morning, still no spotting. I think we are in the clear and can go about having sex like normal married couples do in early pregnancy.
(Especially since I'm only 2 days "late". I mean hell, most married couples probably wouldn't even know they were pregnant yet. I am under the impression that normal people don't test until they are about a week late. I might be wrong, but still. And plus, it's not like HPTs have been around forever, or are even available in most parts of the world. So, yeah.)
So major accomplishment number two: saying fuck you to infertility and taking steps to reclaim my sex life.
Major accomplishment number three: Not stabbing all the fertiles in the face. Look, I joined my due date board on Fertility Friend. And all these fertiles are getting betas!!! WTF??? I'd never even heard of betas before entering the land if IF! So it makes me mad that they're all getting 2-3, whereas I, someone who actually did ART, only get the lousy one. I am taking a bit of a break from that board, because, although there are a few IFers, most are not, and they make me mad. And then I get mad at myself for being mad at them, because it's not like they're the reason I only get one beta or that I was infertile to begin with. I also went to a garage sale that had baby stuff and had to listen to a bunch of mommies talking about their 6 children blah blah. Wanted to punch them all too. I didn't, though, because I have self control.
So there's my third accomplishment: still being bitter but not acting on it.
I hope you're all doing well.
Friday, March 4, 2011
4w0d: Pretty Sure I Didn't Imagine That
Ok, so, as thrilled as I am about this pregnancy, I still can't entirely believe it's happening to me. It feels like one big game of let's-pretend: Let's pretend I'm pregnant!! And I have positive home pregnancy tests! And we can talk about names and diapers! I walk around saying "I'm pregnant, I'm pregnant, I'm pregnant" under my breath.
When I'm home, I say it aloud. To my husband, to our cats, to myself. I'm obnoxious. I know it. It happens everywhere--last night my brother and his (awesome) girlfriend came over to watch the Jazz game. Within two minutes, I spilled the news. I couldn't help it! And then, we got into a random conversation about small-market teams and how much bigger is Denver than SLC and such. We had to go google the population of both Salt Lake proper and the Salt Lake Valley. "1.7 million in the valley," says my husband. "1.7 million and one," I correct, gleefully. "Or two!" chimes in the awesome girlfriend.
Boarders is going out of business, so I had my husband pick up a baby-name book. If anything feels pretend, it's having serious conversations about names for an unknown number of children, complete with my husband's suggestions of "Darth Conan" and "Ragnar" and such. Because we can only do serious for so long.
And yes, my beloved Mayo guide. "This week, your baby..." My baby? Y'all, my baby (or babies!) is smaller than a grain of rice. "Actual size" pictures aren't even there for 4 weeks, but since I'm, like, technically starting my 5th week, there it is: actual size is tiny.
But really, let's be honest: when I was first trying to conceive, I thought I was pregnant all the time. I spent my first 3 2ww convinced of it. I thought of baby names, on the embarrassing occasion admittedly addressed my belly, made food choices and such all based around Baby. And guess what? No baby.
This time is different, right? I mean, the lines are there and are darkening. Except today's wasn't any darker than yesterday's, so I had a few (completely irrational: why yes, I know HPTs aren't exactly quantitative hard science about how wonderfully the pregnancy is or is not progressing) moments of freaking out.
But only a few.
Because then, honest to god:
I puked.
Now, for the past 3 days, I've been feeling kind of queasy. But I was pretty sure I was making it up, just like I (and/or my 1cc of PIO) am making up the sore boobs. The vivid dreams I can attribute to the estrogen and/or my heightened emotional state. (Everything makes me smile. My god, just a week ago I would have stabbed my own cheerful self in the smug stupid face because life ain't that grand, bitch.) And that's about all I've got, aside from increased thirst (easily imagined, I drink all the time anyway) and increased urination (explained by increased drinking and/or the fact that, even at work when I'm not even close to a Wondfo, I still think "this pee would give me two lines! Neato!").
But yeah, pretty sure my puking wasn't imagined.
Especially not the second time.
Or the third time, at work.
Or the forth time, at work, again, when it was suggested I go home.
My trusty Mayo guide says this is fine, as long as I can drink and eat between bouts of vomiting. Which I can. And I'm not really puking that much, just enough to...not feel better at all, actually.
It's the coolest fucking thing ever. I have morning sickness!!! Me!
I don't get how lines that still aren't darker than the control can cause it so early (my mom, and why yes I called her, says she began at "probably 6-7 weeks, but we didn't really know how far along we were back in my day". It seems like 5-7 is average (so says Mayo), but here I am, puking at 4 weeks exactly. And I'm pretty sure it's nothing I ate or drank, because of how I felt the past two days and how I don't actually feel sick, just...queasy. And it comes and goes, and eating a handful of cereal seems to help. And...stuff.
God, I cannot wait for my beta! I am so excited!!
When I'm home, I say it aloud. To my husband, to our cats, to myself. I'm obnoxious. I know it. It happens everywhere--last night my brother and his (awesome) girlfriend came over to watch the Jazz game. Within two minutes, I spilled the news. I couldn't help it! And then, we got into a random conversation about small-market teams and how much bigger is Denver than SLC and such. We had to go google the population of both Salt Lake proper and the Salt Lake Valley. "1.7 million in the valley," says my husband. "1.7 million and one," I correct, gleefully. "Or two!" chimes in the awesome girlfriend.
Boarders is going out of business, so I had my husband pick up a baby-name book. If anything feels pretend, it's having serious conversations about names for an unknown number of children, complete with my husband's suggestions of "Darth Conan" and "Ragnar" and such. Because we can only do serious for so long.
And yes, my beloved Mayo guide. "This week, your baby..." My baby? Y'all, my baby (or babies!) is smaller than a grain of rice. "Actual size" pictures aren't even there for 4 weeks, but since I'm, like, technically starting my 5th week, there it is: actual size is tiny.
But really, let's be honest: when I was first trying to conceive, I thought I was pregnant all the time. I spent my first 3 2ww convinced of it. I thought of baby names, on the embarrassing occasion admittedly addressed my belly, made food choices and such all based around Baby. And guess what? No baby.
This time is different, right? I mean, the lines are there and are darkening. Except today's wasn't any darker than yesterday's, so I had a few (completely irrational: why yes, I know HPTs aren't exactly quantitative hard science about how wonderfully the pregnancy is or is not progressing) moments of freaking out.
But only a few.
Because then, honest to god:
I puked.
Now, for the past 3 days, I've been feeling kind of queasy. But I was pretty sure I was making it up, just like I (and/or my 1cc of PIO) am making up the sore boobs. The vivid dreams I can attribute to the estrogen and/or my heightened emotional state. (Everything makes me smile. My god, just a week ago I would have stabbed my own cheerful self in the smug stupid face because life ain't that grand, bitch.) And that's about all I've got, aside from increased thirst (easily imagined, I drink all the time anyway) and increased urination (explained by increased drinking and/or the fact that, even at work when I'm not even close to a Wondfo, I still think "this pee would give me two lines! Neato!").
But yeah, pretty sure my puking wasn't imagined.
Especially not the second time.
Or the third time, at work.
Or the forth time, at work, again, when it was suggested I go home.
My trusty Mayo guide says this is fine, as long as I can drink and eat between bouts of vomiting. Which I can. And I'm not really puking that much, just enough to...not feel better at all, actually.
It's the coolest fucking thing ever. I have morning sickness!!! Me!
I don't get how lines that still aren't darker than the control can cause it so early (my mom, and why yes I called her, says she began at "probably 6-7 weeks, but we didn't really know how far along we were back in my day". It seems like 5-7 is average (so says Mayo), but here I am, puking at 4 weeks exactly. And I'm pretty sure it's nothing I ate or drank, because of how I felt the past two days and how I don't actually feel sick, just...queasy. And it comes and goes, and eating a handful of cereal seems to help. And...stuff.
God, I cannot wait for my beta! I am so excited!!
Wednesday, March 2, 2011
Pictures of Tests
Warning: contains items on which I have peed.
I am not very good with lighting, apparently. But in real life, the lines are there and very visible.
I am not very good with lighting, apparently. But in real life, the lines are there and very visible.
7dp5dt: Surreal
The lines continue to darken. I took a digital pregnancy test this morning and it flashed "pregnant" at me. (I was extremely dismayed to read in the instructions that the battery--or whatever it is that powers it--will only last "about a day". I want to keep this test. It's way more awesome than my internet strips. But only, you know, while it's alive.)
My husband is hilarious. Every time I go to the bathroom (which is somewhat often, since I drink a ton of water), he asks if I tested. I had to explain to him about holding it in, and all that. But he still keeps asking! This from the man who didn't want to see my earlier tests because he didn't want to get his hopes up. He suggested I buy more, since I've only got about 5 (he peeked at my stash!) left and "you'll want to keep testing till the heartbeat, right?" What a cutie.
I don't know if I'm having any symptoms. I switched (thank god!) to PIO on 2-3dp5dt, so I can either ascribe everything to that, or to my growing embryo(s?). I've got crazy dreams, the occasional cramp, increased sex drive (not doing "it" though, because I'm chickenshit), and...long and intense fits of joy. And the giggles.
I sometimes have intense doubt. I want this so badly, and I have been wanting it so badly for quite some time (not comparing length of TTC journey with anyone here, I'm simply stating that I have always wanted to be a mommy). Now that I am so close to it, I am terrified it will once again be snatched away. I know so many, many things can go wrong.
But I'm also a little scared by how easily I forget that. I've told my mother, my doctor-sister (who, despite our rocky relationship this fall, wants to fly out and give me my heartbeat ultrasound), and all the internet. My husband and I had an honest-to-god conversation about diapers last night.
I bought the Anji pregnancy meditations. I bought the Mayo Clinic pregnancy book. (I like it because all the reviews say it tells you "way more than you need to know". Those reviewers do not know me and my need to know, and the fact that I am considering robbing the embryologist of all his textbooks on early development.)
And my husband got a totally unexpected raise.
It seems like the good news just keeps coming.
Which can terrify me, of course. I don't want the gods to decide we've got too much happiness, that somehow they mistakenly gave us something good when they meant to give it to the fertile couple down the street. (I don't believe in gods, but, well, this is making me all a bit superstitious. I want my tarot cards read, too.)
My clinic only does one beta, on 17DPO. I'm considering going to get one on 14DPO from a LabCorp or Planned Parenthood. (I researched this after my last awful experience, when I knew I was not pregnant, and my clinic would not let me come in "early" to test.) This way, I can have a "doubling time" like everyone else on the internet seems to get. Which would be awesome if it's good and dreadful if it's bad.
I have a lot of emotions: guilt (when I think of everyone who hasn't yet gotten their BFP), joy, disbelief, worry, anger (that I can't just enjoy this and that I had to do ART in the first place), joy, joy, and joy.
I am overcome. I want this baby--these babies?--to make it. I want it all.
My husband is hilarious. Every time I go to the bathroom (which is somewhat often, since I drink a ton of water), he asks if I tested. I had to explain to him about holding it in, and all that. But he still keeps asking! This from the man who didn't want to see my earlier tests because he didn't want to get his hopes up. He suggested I buy more, since I've only got about 5 (he peeked at my stash!) left and "you'll want to keep testing till the heartbeat, right?" What a cutie.
I don't know if I'm having any symptoms. I switched (thank god!) to PIO on 2-3dp5dt, so I can either ascribe everything to that, or to my growing embryo(s?). I've got crazy dreams, the occasional cramp, increased sex drive (not doing "it" though, because I'm chickenshit), and...long and intense fits of joy. And the giggles.
I sometimes have intense doubt. I want this so badly, and I have been wanting it so badly for quite some time (not comparing length of TTC journey with anyone here, I'm simply stating that I have always wanted to be a mommy). Now that I am so close to it, I am terrified it will once again be snatched away. I know so many, many things can go wrong.
But I'm also a little scared by how easily I forget that. I've told my mother, my doctor-sister (who, despite our rocky relationship this fall, wants to fly out and give me my heartbeat ultrasound), and all the internet. My husband and I had an honest-to-god conversation about diapers last night.
I bought the Anji pregnancy meditations. I bought the Mayo Clinic pregnancy book. (I like it because all the reviews say it tells you "way more than you need to know". Those reviewers do not know me and my need to know, and the fact that I am considering robbing the embryologist of all his textbooks on early development.)
And my husband got a totally unexpected raise.
It seems like the good news just keeps coming.
Which can terrify me, of course. I don't want the gods to decide we've got too much happiness, that somehow they mistakenly gave us something good when they meant to give it to the fertile couple down the street. (I don't believe in gods, but, well, this is making me all a bit superstitious. I want my tarot cards read, too.)
My clinic only does one beta, on 17DPO. I'm considering going to get one on 14DPO from a LabCorp or Planned Parenthood. (I researched this after my last awful experience, when I knew I was not pregnant, and my clinic would not let me come in "early" to test.) This way, I can have a "doubling time" like everyone else on the internet seems to get. Which would be awesome if it's good and dreadful if it's bad.
I have a lot of emotions: guilt (when I think of everyone who hasn't yet gotten their BFP), joy, disbelief, worry, anger (that I can't just enjoy this and that I had to do ART in the first place), joy, joy, and joy.
I am overcome. I want this baby--these babies?--to make it. I want it all.
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