Hope. It's a loaded word. It's a word I have struggled with over the last few years, but it's also a word that I cling to in the dark times, that I force myself to believe in because if I don't, all is lost. A new year means new beginnings, new possibilities, renewed energy that comes with the hope of positive change. Maybe this will be our year. 2008 wasn't, 2009 certainly wasn't, neither was 2010. 2011 almost was, but we didn't quite make it this year, either. So maybe 2012. And why not? Why shouldn't it be our year? Jason is hoping to begin a doctoral program in the Fall, which means we'll be moving out of state. Already, that plan is the definition of a fresh start: new state, new home, new school, new jobs, new people, new surroundings, new everything.
All of the new in that scenario scares the bejeezus out of me, but it's also quite exciting. We have never lived out of state. We have never lived so far away from our families {which is the only non-exciting thing about the move}. But it will be an adventure, and perhaps an adventure is just what we need. Maybe 2012 will be the year we turn the page and begin a new chapter. It feels like it will be.
Today is CD17, and I think, if I had to guess, I am ovulating. I didn't do a predictor kit. I didn't want to be tempted to break the doctor's orders to not try for 3 whole cycles. If I found out I was ovulating, I know I would want to try, and we can't. Not yet. But, that time is coming. CD1 of my next cycle, I will call the clinic and let them know, and I will start my femara again. We will do an IUI in January. And maybe, just maybe, luck will be on our side and 2012 will begin with the greatest of joys.
Here's to hoping...
Wednesday, December 28, 2011
Tuesday, December 13, 2011
A first
First of all, thank you all for your kind words of support following my last post. As I'm sure you can tell, I'm struggling with where we are and why we're here, and the uncertain future that we infertiles face, which only seems to worsen after a miscarriage. I think everything is magnified right now due to the holidays and the supposed cheer and joy we usually at least attempt to feel, and I'm just not feeling it this year - which is hard for me, because normally, I'm all about Christmas. I think I'm seriously one of the merriest people I know around the holidays and it pains me to feel so anti-everything cheerful this season. But I'm hopeful that I'll still find my Christmas spirit, that it's just tucked away somewhere safe and will show itself before the holidays come to a close. At any rate, I'm so grateful to have you all on my side - thank you, friends, from the bottom of my heart.
Secondly, I started my period yesterday and get this: it was a perfect 28-day cycle. Can you believe it?? My first post-miscarriage period last month was almost exactly 4 weeks after the miscarriage occurred, which surprised me. I've never been on time when it comes to my cycles, and I thought for sure the miscarriage would mess me up further. So this current period really shocked me. 28 days. Me. I used to have 28-day cycles when I was on the pill, but even before the pill I was a 32-34 day cycle gal, and after stopping the pill, I was all over the freaking map. And now, perfect cycle status. I'm hesitant to even think it but...could my system have actually semi-regulated itself following my miscarriage? I've heard of it happening, but I really, honestly didn't think it would happen to me. I'm definitely encouraged, although my pessimistic infertile mind cautions me against feeling encouraged. But how can I not? If my cycles stay consistent, it would be a huge step in the right direction. I'm tempted to do an ovulation kit next month and see if I'm ovulating on my own. But for now, let's not get ahead of ourselves. That's how people get their hopes dashed.
Still, there is cause to feel "up". And I'll take it, that's for damn sure.
Secondly, I started my period yesterday and get this: it was a perfect 28-day cycle. Can you believe it?? My first post-miscarriage period last month was almost exactly 4 weeks after the miscarriage occurred, which surprised me. I've never been on time when it comes to my cycles, and I thought for sure the miscarriage would mess me up further. So this current period really shocked me. 28 days. Me. I used to have 28-day cycles when I was on the pill, but even before the pill I was a 32-34 day cycle gal, and after stopping the pill, I was all over the freaking map. And now, perfect cycle status. I'm hesitant to even think it but...could my system have actually semi-regulated itself following my miscarriage? I've heard of it happening, but I really, honestly didn't think it would happen to me. I'm definitely encouraged, although my pessimistic infertile mind cautions me against feeling encouraged. But how can I not? If my cycles stay consistent, it would be a huge step in the right direction. I'm tempted to do an ovulation kit next month and see if I'm ovulating on my own. But for now, let's not get ahead of ourselves. That's how people get their hopes dashed.
Still, there is cause to feel "up". And I'll take it, that's for damn sure.
Friday, December 9, 2011
Fall on your knees
I had a thought yesterday and it almost brought me to my knees: I may never experience a full pregnancy.
It was while I was on Facebook, aka The Devil, and I was reading through my 'friends' posts and one of them was going to the doctor to have an ultrasound and it hit me like a freaking ton of bricks. I may never see that breathtaking flicker of a heartbeat on the ultrasound screen. I may never have that euphoric feeling of "this is the moment we find out if we're having a daughter or a son." I may never feel our child move within my womb. I may never get past week 12. I may never get to wear maternity clothes, or make a pregnancy announcement. I may never get that far. And even if I do, what if I can't enjoy it because I'm so fearful of another devastating end? I already know that if I am blessed to get pregnant again, I'll be holding my breath at least through week 6, wondering if it's still alive, or if it's already passed on like our first. I remember that magical moment of seeing that plus sign, of shaking so uncontrollably with disbelief and elation, of Jason picking me up and twirling me around our bedroom, tears streaming down both of our faces. And I want to scream. I want to scream because it was taken away so suddenly, just as quickly as it came, and although it's such a shallow, hollow word, the only one I can think of is "unfair." The whole damn thing is so freaking unfair.
And cruel. The infertility "game" is so horribly, undeniably, unabashedly cruel. We have been on this journey since February of 2008, and I am so tired.of.it.all. I see my friends with their children, and I want to run away with my grief and hide until this hell is over. And I see our newlywed friends with their excitement about what's surely to come, and it takes every ounce of inner strength not to caution them against their optimism, because it's not always "first comes love, then comes marriage, then comes the baby in the baby carriage." Although it certainly seems that way for everyone else but us. And I see my yet-to-be-married friends and I don't know what to think because I remember being them, and I remember that care free feeling of "someday" and somehow, someday has gotten away from me and I can't find it anymore. And I don't want to ruin "someday" for them, too. Because the reality is, they'll probably be fine.
I might never carry a child to term. That's the sick reality. And that reality makes me want to simultaneously throw up and fall on my knees, curl up in a ball and let my fear and grief swallow me whole.
It was while I was on Facebook, aka The Devil, and I was reading through my 'friends' posts and one of them was going to the doctor to have an ultrasound and it hit me like a freaking ton of bricks. I may never see that breathtaking flicker of a heartbeat on the ultrasound screen. I may never have that euphoric feeling of "this is the moment we find out if we're having a daughter or a son." I may never feel our child move within my womb. I may never get past week 12. I may never get to wear maternity clothes, or make a pregnancy announcement. I may never get that far. And even if I do, what if I can't enjoy it because I'm so fearful of another devastating end? I already know that if I am blessed to get pregnant again, I'll be holding my breath at least through week 6, wondering if it's still alive, or if it's already passed on like our first. I remember that magical moment of seeing that plus sign, of shaking so uncontrollably with disbelief and elation, of Jason picking me up and twirling me around our bedroom, tears streaming down both of our faces. And I want to scream. I want to scream because it was taken away so suddenly, just as quickly as it came, and although it's such a shallow, hollow word, the only one I can think of is "unfair." The whole damn thing is so freaking unfair.
And cruel. The infertility "game" is so horribly, undeniably, unabashedly cruel. We have been on this journey since February of 2008, and I am so tired.of.it.all. I see my friends with their children, and I want to run away with my grief and hide until this hell is over. And I see our newlywed friends with their excitement about what's surely to come, and it takes every ounce of inner strength not to caution them against their optimism, because it's not always "first comes love, then comes marriage, then comes the baby in the baby carriage." Although it certainly seems that way for everyone else but us. And I see my yet-to-be-married friends and I don't know what to think because I remember being them, and I remember that care free feeling of "someday" and somehow, someday has gotten away from me and I can't find it anymore. And I don't want to ruin "someday" for them, too. Because the reality is, they'll probably be fine.
I might never carry a child to term. That's the sick reality. And that reality makes me want to simultaneously throw up and fall on my knees, curl up in a ball and let my fear and grief swallow me whole.
Tuesday, December 6, 2011
Christmas Tree of Memories
I feel like a broken record. Loss loss loss. Sad angry fearful lost sad. But it's where I am right now. I don't know what else to say. And I started this blog for me. So I'll talk about my sadness and loss some more.
Most unfortunately, the overwhelming sense of loss is dominating my holiday season this year. I find myself crying with too much ease, the familiar ache of longing for a child so intense it's sometimes hard to breathe. I feel like a hostage to our situation, like someone is sitting on my chest and pinning my arms to my sides. Admittedly, I'm increasingly envious of those around me who have what we so desire. I know I'm not alone. The holidays are especially tough for infertiles, but it's our 4th Christmas since starting on this journey, and just mere months ago, I thought this Christmas was going to be different. Turns out it would be more painful than ever.
On top of our miscarriage, we lost my beloved Grandpa Harry (my mom's dad) this year, a loss still so very fresh nearly 8 months later. I can't believe that he's really, truly gone. Forever. What will the rest of my life be like without him? Without any of the grandparents I've lost? And our sweet family dog, Nikki, my mom's constant companion, passed away in August, less than 4 months after my grandpa. My grandma in many ways is lost to us as well - her grief and battle with dementia have left a shell where my grandma used to be. I miss her, too, and worry incessantly about how my mom can juggle all of this stress and loss that she must deal with on a daily basis, on top of her full-time work schedule.
This year, Jason and I decided to decorate our Christmas tree only with ornaments that meant something to us, ornaments that we have collected on our travels, or ones from my childhood, or ones that just have a special meaning. Every single ornament has a story, and I love that. I feel like I could give a tour of our tree, take a guest on a walk down memory lane. As I mentioned in my last post, we bought a gold angel to symbolize our losses this year, and hung her up high to watch over us this holiday season, and hold our loved ones in heaven close to her heart. We needed a tree that stood for something this year, that we could look at and find ourselves in: see where we've been, where we are, and maybe even a little of where we're headed.
And you know what? For the most part, our lovely tree of memories makes me smile; warms my heart, if even for just a little while. And for that, I am so very glad. Maybe in time, the gladness will spread, and I'll find my holiday cheer in time for Christmas.
On top of our miscarriage, we lost my beloved Grandpa Harry (my mom's dad) this year, a loss still so very fresh nearly 8 months later. I can't believe that he's really, truly gone. Forever. What will the rest of my life be like without him? Without any of the grandparents I've lost? And our sweet family dog, Nikki, my mom's constant companion, passed away in August, less than 4 months after my grandpa. My grandma in many ways is lost to us as well - her grief and battle with dementia have left a shell where my grandma used to be. I miss her, too, and worry incessantly about how my mom can juggle all of this stress and loss that she must deal with on a daily basis, on top of her full-time work schedule.
And I've lost my spark. I don't know where it's gone, but holiday cheer is hard to come by this year. I try, but it's only with half a heart. It just doesn't FEEL like Christmas, not really, because the holiday spirit comes from within and if you're partially frozen inside...the season just doesn't feel right.
This year, Jason and I decided to decorate our Christmas tree only with ornaments that meant something to us, ornaments that we have collected on our travels, or ones from my childhood, or ones that just have a special meaning. Every single ornament has a story, and I love that. I feel like I could give a tour of our tree, take a guest on a walk down memory lane. As I mentioned in my last post, we bought a gold angel to symbolize our losses this year, and hung her up high to watch over us this holiday season, and hold our loved ones in heaven close to her heart. We needed a tree that stood for something this year, that we could look at and find ourselves in: see where we've been, where we are, and maybe even a little of where we're headed.And you know what? For the most part, our lovely tree of memories makes me smile; warms my heart, if even for just a little while. And for that, I am so very glad. Maybe in time, the gladness will spread, and I'll find my holiday cheer in time for Christmas.
Thursday, December 1, 2011
What's Written on your Heart
I awoke this morning feeling kind of down. If I'm being truthful, I've felt like that for the past few days. We trimmed our tree on Tuesday night. On Sunday night, the same night we purchased our tree, we bought an angel ornament to hang this year to represent all of the loss our family has suffered in the last 7.5 months: my grandpa's passing, our family dog's passing, our miscarriage, and in many ways, we've also lost my grandmother to dementia and depression. As I was hanging the ornament, I started to cry. It was so emotional, hanging that angel up on a high branch so it could watch over us all month long. I just looked at Jason before he enveloped me in his arms and whimpered, "There's just been so much loss."
So today, I awoke feeling sluggish and slightly overwhelmed without good cause, and as I started my shower, I had a sudden fleeting thought, and it was this: "God knows what's written on your heart, and has a plan for you." I'm a religious person. Not overtly so, but I would identify myself as a woman of faith. My faith has wavered over the last few years, I'll admit it. Life has been hard. But in the end, I know that my future is not entirely up to me. Yes, I have choices, and yes, I am free to make them and I do exercise that right, but there are some things that are not up to me, and I have to have faith that God knows what I so desire and has a plan. I have to trust that He sees what is written on my heart, and has a plan. And right now, I need to let go of some of the anger I feel, some of the helplessness and grief and anxiety, and give it to God, because I can't handle it all on my own.
I don't know what put that thought in to my head this morning, but I am so thankful for it. After it went in and through my head, I felt a surge of relief. I think I actually sighed. I know I'm not in this alone, not by a long shot.
So today, I awoke feeling sluggish and slightly overwhelmed without good cause, and as I started my shower, I had a sudden fleeting thought, and it was this: "God knows what's written on your heart, and has a plan for you." I'm a religious person. Not overtly so, but I would identify myself as a woman of faith. My faith has wavered over the last few years, I'll admit it. Life has been hard. But in the end, I know that my future is not entirely up to me. Yes, I have choices, and yes, I am free to make them and I do exercise that right, but there are some things that are not up to me, and I have to have faith that God knows what I so desire and has a plan. I have to trust that He sees what is written on my heart, and has a plan. And right now, I need to let go of some of the anger I feel, some of the helplessness and grief and anxiety, and give it to God, because I can't handle it all on my own.
I don't know what put that thought in to my head this morning, but I am so thankful for it. After it went in and through my head, I felt a surge of relief. I think I actually sighed. I know I'm not in this alone, not by a long shot.
Monday, November 21, 2011
Will it ever end?
I started my period last week...or I should say, I started spotting last Sunday thru Wednesday, then it picked up to a trickle on Thursday and Friday, and then a light version of my period (flow wise, lighter; yucky feeling, greater) started over the weekend and has continued in to today. OVER. IT. I did some research online and from what I can tell, the first post-miscarriage period (especially if you didn't have a D&C) is really...interesting. Every site I found said that the first period after a miscarriage is different from your "normal" cycles: could be longer, shorter, lighter, heavier, more or less painful, or just out and out weird, which seems to be what mine is. Goody. I don't have any signs of infection, and it was a full 4 weeks after my miscarriage that the spotting started, so in that respect, it's on track (your period is supposed to reappear 4-6 wks after a miscarriage) and given my history, I was really suspecting it would be MIA and need to be restarted with progesterone, but it came all on it's own, and on time...but it's weird. Wonky. Different. I feel gross and achy and like I could sleep all week. And I'm OVER. IT.
So, my question to you is this: will it ever end? I just want to be DONE with this miscarriage and all of it's many, many unpleasantries. The grief, the pain (both mental and physical), the lingering discomfort, the sadness, the anger and fear, the wondering "why", the bleeding, all of it...when will it end?
Will it end?
Last night, for the first time that I can remember, while watching Four Christmases, I thought, "I wish I didn't want children." Because then all of this wouldn't be so damn hard. Had we not wanted our baby with all that we are, with every fiber of our beings, it would have been merely "a shame" that we miscarried, maybe even a relief in some horrible way, although I can't even fathom ever feeling such a thing myself. But wanting children so desperately, wanting them so badly that the pain of it all, the injustice, sometimes makes me feel numb, sometimes makes me feel so empty and alone that I don't know who I am or where I'm going. And for the first time, I wished I didn't want them. And the thought made me sick - because here's the thing:
I DO.
Monday, November 14, 2011
Time Travel, and Other Impossibilities
I'm crying. I just saw yet another pregnancy announcement on Facebook and it hit me. Hard. And it's suddenly all too much. I'm spotting, because my period is coming. Because I'm not pregnant anymore and it's awful and I'm sad and I'm crying. I just wish things were different, that I hadn't lost our baby, that my faith wasn't crippled by an overwhelming sense of despair.
I want our baby back. I want to go back in time and relive those 2 weeks all over again, those two precious weeks when we thought we were going to be parents. When our dream had become reality, finally, after so long. I want to go back to reading pregnancy books, and pouring over name options, and the happiness, oh my god, the sheer joy, it was intoxicating. Those two weeks were so short, and went by so fast. I didn't appreciate them enough. I was so worried about miscarriage, so preoccupied with the possibility of my pregnancy ending that I didn't revel in the NOW enough. But the now has become something I wish I could erase and all I want to do is go back in time to Sept. 19. Maybe if I could go back somehow, it would have a different outcome. Like in the movies, maybe if I did one thing differently, the now, today, would be different, too. Maybe our baby would be growing stronger by the day, maybe our dreams wouldn't be shattered in to a million tiny little fragments of light.
I want something I can't ever have. I can't go back in time. Nothing I do will change what is. I feel like I spend so much time on my knees, begging, pleading, praying to God for a child. I got my child - yes, my prayers were answered - but our child is in Heaven, and it's not right, it's not how it was supposed to end, and yet...
And yet.
I want our baby back. I want to go back in time and relive those 2 weeks all over again, those two precious weeks when we thought we were going to be parents. When our dream had become reality, finally, after so long. I want to go back to reading pregnancy books, and pouring over name options, and the happiness, oh my god, the sheer joy, it was intoxicating. Those two weeks were so short, and went by so fast. I didn't appreciate them enough. I was so worried about miscarriage, so preoccupied with the possibility of my pregnancy ending that I didn't revel in the NOW enough. But the now has become something I wish I could erase and all I want to do is go back in time to Sept. 19. Maybe if I could go back somehow, it would have a different outcome. Like in the movies, maybe if I did one thing differently, the now, today, would be different, too. Maybe our baby would be growing stronger by the day, maybe our dreams wouldn't be shattered in to a million tiny little fragments of light.
I want something I can't ever have. I can't go back in time. Nothing I do will change what is. I feel like I spend so much time on my knees, begging, pleading, praying to God for a child. I got my child - yes, my prayers were answered - but our child is in Heaven, and it's not right, it's not how it was supposed to end, and yet...
And yet.
Sunday, November 13, 2011
What would have been
Today, I would have been 12 weeks. We would have announced our pregnancy on Facebook sometime this week. I would have said something like, "At long last, Jason and I are thrilled beyond words to announce that our family of two will become a family of three in May." I would have had the beginnings of a little baby bump. We would have taken our first "family portrait" for our holiday card. I would have had my first of three high risk OB appointments at UCLA last Wednesday. I would not feel as lost as I do, nor would I have cried my eyes out two Saturdays ago after having dinner with a sorority sister who is 7 months pregnant. Although I love it so much, and am so appreciative of the dear friend who bought it for me, I would not have the need to wear my memorial necklace, as beautiful as it is.
Today, had I not miscarried 4 weeks ago, I would still be pregnant. I would be far enough along to sigh a little sigh of relief at having made it this far. In six more weeks, we would have found out the gender. We would have probably received a "Baby's First Christmas" something, an ornament, a bib, a onesie, something.
Thinking about what would have been is crippling. So I guess I won't. Not anymore today, at least. Today, I'm going apple picking with my husband and one of my best friends. It's a beautiful autumn day outside: crisp air, blue sky, and the promise of a good time awaits. I'll focus on that - further musings on what would have been can wait.
Today, had I not miscarried 4 weeks ago, I would still be pregnant. I would be far enough along to sigh a little sigh of relief at having made it this far. In six more weeks, we would have found out the gender. We would have probably received a "Baby's First Christmas" something, an ornament, a bib, a onesie, something.
Thinking about what would have been is crippling. So I guess I won't. Not anymore today, at least. Today, I'm going apple picking with my husband and one of my best friends. It's a beautiful autumn day outside: crisp air, blue sky, and the promise of a good time awaits. I'll focus on that - further musings on what would have been can wait.
Monday, November 7, 2011
An odd place to be
I'm having a hard time coming up with topics to blog about. I'm in "tweener" land - we're on hold trying to conceive until January, still recovering from our loss, and still desperately yearning for a baby. It's an odd place to be. I can't write about cycle stuff because I'm not taking any meds, so no procedures, no blood work, no doctor's appointments, no nothing. I've written all I can write, for now at least, about our miscarriage. And I think we all understand the constant yearning to become a family, which seems especially pronounced around the holidays. So, we're just waiting impatiently for January.
I guess the one thing I can report is that I had my annual pap appointment today and it was harder than I thought it would be to fill out the little information page prior to my appointment. For the first time ever, I could check the "yes,I've been pregnant" box, but the next part was the hardest: checking the miscarriage box. I wasn't ready for that little dose of reality this morning.
On a positive note, I really liked my new OB-GYN. I was able to snag an appointment with the doctor who was recommended to me when I was pregnant. He is soft spoken, kind, and gentle. He genuinely seemed sorry for our loss, and handled me with such care. He does want me to go back on Metformin - BLEH. I am NOT a fan of that drug. In fact, I swore I would never go back on it. But never say never, I guess. He said that at even at a low dose, there is substantial documentation that women with PCOS can lower their risk of miscarriage (since women with PCOS have double the risk of "normal" women). I did not know that, I thought it was mostly to help regulate cycles and help you get pregnant, and that is why I'm taking him up on his recommendation. I need to do whatever I can to give us the best odds possible next time, should we be so lucky to be blessed with a next time.
I will begin taking 250mg once a day for 2 weeks sometime soon. Then, he wants me to try 250mg 2x a day. The last time I was on Metformin, I had a horrible reaction, even at 500mg. I couldn't tolerate it. It made me sicker than sick; couldn't keep anything down. He said that I'm an atypical PCOS case (no weight issues, no insulin issues, just mainly the presence of those pesky cysts!) and as such, he would not recommend I take more than 500mg, ever. My last doctor had me taking 500mg, then 1000mg, then back down to 800mg...no wonder I was sick!! : /
Anywho, that's the report. I wish things were different. I wish I was still pregnant. I would have been 11 weeks yesterday.
I guess the one thing I can report is that I had my annual pap appointment today and it was harder than I thought it would be to fill out the little information page prior to my appointment. For the first time ever, I could check the "yes,I've been pregnant" box, but the next part was the hardest: checking the miscarriage box. I wasn't ready for that little dose of reality this morning.
On a positive note, I really liked my new OB-GYN. I was able to snag an appointment with the doctor who was recommended to me when I was pregnant. He is soft spoken, kind, and gentle. He genuinely seemed sorry for our loss, and handled me with such care. He does want me to go back on Metformin - BLEH. I am NOT a fan of that drug. In fact, I swore I would never go back on it. But never say never, I guess. He said that at even at a low dose, there is substantial documentation that women with PCOS can lower their risk of miscarriage (since women with PCOS have double the risk of "normal" women). I did not know that, I thought it was mostly to help regulate cycles and help you get pregnant, and that is why I'm taking him up on his recommendation. I need to do whatever I can to give us the best odds possible next time, should we be so lucky to be blessed with a next time.
I will begin taking 250mg once a day for 2 weeks sometime soon. Then, he wants me to try 250mg 2x a day. The last time I was on Metformin, I had a horrible reaction, even at 500mg. I couldn't tolerate it. It made me sicker than sick; couldn't keep anything down. He said that I'm an atypical PCOS case (no weight issues, no insulin issues, just mainly the presence of those pesky cysts!) and as such, he would not recommend I take more than 500mg, ever. My last doctor had me taking 500mg, then 1000mg, then back down to 800mg...no wonder I was sick!! : /
Anywho, that's the report. I wish things were different. I wish I was still pregnant. I would have been 11 weeks yesterday.
Sunday, October 30, 2011
The Holiday Funk
{Disclaimer: If we are friends in real life, please know that I in no way, shape or form, mean for this post to offend you or target you. This is simply how it is for me, how it feels to be infertile, to want a child so badly and to be denied time and time again. And it hurts more over the holidays, because the holidays are family time. You know that I love your kids, I just wish that we had some children of our own to love.}
It's started early this year. The inevitable, made worse by our miscarriage, infertility holiday funk. The babies and the children - they are everywhere. And they look precious and adorable and they aren't ours. None of them are ours.
The Halloween costumes, the pumpkin patch photos, the family portraits. We don't have a child to dress up for Halloween. We go to the pumpkin patch because I love it, and this year is was painful because of all the babies, kids and pregnant women. Family portraits still consist of Jason and me...and sometimes our furry babies. For the first time ever, I'm actually dreading Christmas a little bit, and that hurts for me to admit because Christmas is by far my favorite holiday.
Facebook has made this whole IF thing exponentially harder. Every time someone posts a picture of their adorable child or pregnant belly or makes a pregnancy announcement or talks about something to do with their child or being a parent, it's right there. And it hurts.
Overall, I'm doing better. I'm really focusing on taking it one day at a time. I've felt like crying several times over the last few days and yet the tears won't come. Mainly because I won't let them. I keep holding them back because I'm afraid to allow them to flow - like if I let one go, it'll be the beginning of a downpour that won't ever stop. It's where I am right now. The hardest part? Knowing that I'm trying to not be so sad for other people's benefit. Because I know that my being sad is uncomfortable for them. Many of the people in our life don't even know that I was ever pregnant, so they don't know about the loss. What's to account for my sadness around those people? And I figure that the ones who do know don't want to hear about how sad I am all the time, how angry I am, how much it hurts and sucks that I'm no longer pregnant. Frankly, that gets old, I know that, and they don't know what to say or do, and my sadness worries them. So I work hard to sound/seem fine. And mostly, I am. Better, at least. But there is a still a large part of me that wants to scream, pout, punch, wallow. And really, perhaps it is better that I try to seem fine - maybe putting forth all that effort will eventually translate into reality. I don't want to be that person: the one who spoils it all because she's sad. I don't want to drag a black cloud around with me wherever I go. But I do need to grieve. I guess I just haven't figured out exactly how to go about doing that yet...and I fear the holidays aren't going to make it any easier for me.
It's started early this year. The inevitable, made worse by our miscarriage, infertility holiday funk. The babies and the children - they are everywhere. And they look precious and adorable and they aren't ours. None of them are ours.
The Halloween costumes, the pumpkin patch photos, the family portraits. We don't have a child to dress up for Halloween. We go to the pumpkin patch because I love it, and this year is was painful because of all the babies, kids and pregnant women. Family portraits still consist of Jason and me...and sometimes our furry babies. For the first time ever, I'm actually dreading Christmas a little bit, and that hurts for me to admit because Christmas is by far my favorite holiday.
Facebook has made this whole IF thing exponentially harder. Every time someone posts a picture of their adorable child or pregnant belly or makes a pregnancy announcement or talks about something to do with their child or being a parent, it's right there. And it hurts.
Overall, I'm doing better. I'm really focusing on taking it one day at a time. I've felt like crying several times over the last few days and yet the tears won't come. Mainly because I won't let them. I keep holding them back because I'm afraid to allow them to flow - like if I let one go, it'll be the beginning of a downpour that won't ever stop. It's where I am right now. The hardest part? Knowing that I'm trying to not be so sad for other people's benefit. Because I know that my being sad is uncomfortable for them. Many of the people in our life don't even know that I was ever pregnant, so they don't know about the loss. What's to account for my sadness around those people? And I figure that the ones who do know don't want to hear about how sad I am all the time, how angry I am, how much it hurts and sucks that I'm no longer pregnant. Frankly, that gets old, I know that, and they don't know what to say or do, and my sadness worries them. So I work hard to sound/seem fine. And mostly, I am. Better, at least. But there is a still a large part of me that wants to scream, pout, punch, wallow. And really, perhaps it is better that I try to seem fine - maybe putting forth all that effort will eventually translate into reality. I don't want to be that person: the one who spoils it all because she's sad. I don't want to drag a black cloud around with me wherever I go. But I do need to grieve. I guess I just haven't figured out exactly how to go about doing that yet...and I fear the holidays aren't going to make it any easier for me.
Saturday, October 29, 2011
Resilience
Two years ago today, I underwent open heart surgery at UCLA. It was the single most terrifying day of my life, a day that has left me forever changed, in many more ways than one. Two years later, I am healthy, strong and resilient: a survivor. I am so thankful, and so very blessed. Today is a beautiful day.
Happy surgiversary to me!
To read more about my surgery and recovery experience, click on the link:
Monday, October 24, 2011
So much
By and large, my blogging experience has been nothing but positive. The support and love I receive from complete strangers in addition to my family and friends is nothing short of amazing. I have a place to write: write about what I'm feeling, experiencing, doing, wishing, hoping. It's all documented, this entire journey, the good, the bad, the REALLY bad, and the downright ugly. A place I can just let it out, let the tears fall onto this cyber page in the form of words, for others to read, but mostly, for me. I need this space.
But there is a dark side to blogging about something so serious. I follow many blogs and we cheer each other on, my fellow bloggers and me. We're each other's cheering squad, and we pick each other up, dust one another off and give soft nudges back into the horrid game that is Infertility, because we can't give up - giving up means giving up our dreams of becoming parents, our dreams of holding our little ones in our arms. But it's so very hard to keep going...to watch everyone else keep plodding forward...cycle after cycle, month after endless month, year after year.
Lately, there has been so much sadness. Too much. Twins lost at 20 months, renewed hope raised against all odds only to be dashed for the 8th agonizing time, failed IVF cycles, failed IUI cycles, adoptions that have fallen through at the last minute. Why so much pain? Why must we endure such heartbreak, time and time again? It's gotten to the point where I'm almost afraid to check my bloglist. I read through my blogs and I'm driven to tears by the pain in the words I'm reading. Each sentence is dripping with angst, real honest-to-goodness misery brought on by our nemesis, Infertility. I'm sickened and saddened by the grief we're all suffering - and now that I've felt that deep cut of loss, I am not only sympathetic but empathetic as well. I've felt what they've felt, thought what they've thought, and feared what they've feared. To lose a baby is sheer hell. It truly is. And it's not fair. I keep thinking that all of this, all of the pain we've all endured, is just so unfair.
So I'm sorry, dear blogger friends, as limp as that word "sorry" sometimes seems, for the pain you're all experiencing. I truly am. I know we all hear that word so often, but I want you to know that I do think of you all, and I do pray for your peace and for your prayers to be answered. Life isn't fair, I think we've all figured that one out by now, but by God is it ever a blessing, a blessing I sincerely hope you get to share with a family of your own one day, as you so deserve.
Strength comes from within and you all have more strength than you realize, especially when being strong is the only option you have. We'll get through this together, one day at a time.
Tuesday, October 18, 2011
Where I am: musings on the fragility of hope
It's strange. I was pregnant for such a short while, but now that our baby has left my womb, an unsettling, phantom emptiness has set in. I find myself absentmindedly rubbing my still very bloated belly. Although I saw the placenta, and I know that our baby is no longer inside of me, I still cannot quite believe that it's over. I am no longer pregnant. And it hurts.
Sad doesn't even begin to adequately describe it. I don't know what to say, really. Right now, I'm still bleeding, still passing a piece of tissue here and there or the occasional blood clot, and the image of the deflated placenta still haunts me, especially when I lie down at night to go to sleep. Right now, I'm afraid to try again. Afraid to fail again, afraid to feel the pain I have felt both emotionally and physically. I'm afraid to go down that path again: the treatments, the money, the time, the hope, the expectations, the potential let down's. It's such a process, and I'm just not ready right now. Even if we could try again next month, I wouldn't.
I suppose it's a good thing we can't try again until January. It gives my body time to heal, but it also gives us a chance to mentally prepare for what lies ahead. There is the very real possibility that I will miscarry again. And what if it's later in the pregnancy? Miscarrying a 5 week placenta and embryo at 8 weeks pregnant was painful enough - what if I'm farther along next time? And how long will it take to actually get pregnant again? Will we be lucky and get another positive with our very next IUI? Or will it take a few months? Maybe even years? Will we have to do IVF? The fear of the unknown is quite debilitating. I need to get past the fear, but right now, it's all too fresh. I'm afraid, plain and simple.
On the flip side, there is, of course, the possibility that the next time will be IT. And that is the sole driving force for getting my body and mind back on track. We so desperately want a family and this pregnancy has only intensified that desire. We were so close, closer than we have ever been before, and it's crushing that it ended in miscarriage, but what if the next time it doesn't? We have to hold fast to that hope - we have to in order to get our family. I'm a fighter - always have been, always will be and Jason is a hopeless optimist, able to find the positive in every situation, so together we'll get through this. I have no doubt. I'll get back on track - it'll take some time, and I need to grieve, but come January, I think I'll be ready. We have another little soul in heaven cheering us on and we can't, we won't, let it down.
I truly can't thank you all enough for your love and support, but please know that your kind words and encouragement have indeed helped us in our time of need. Good, bad, or indifferent, this is all part of a bigger journey, and we have to accept what is in order to get to what will be. Everything happens for a reason - we just have to believe.
Monday, October 17, 2011
After spending 5 hours in the ER...
...we are finally home. Exhausted, worn out both emotionally and physically, but home.
Let me back it up a bit.
I passed a large piece of tissue around 11am this morning, and we thought it was the embryo. It was light pink/flesh colored and had a spongy texture. We were extremely emotional, but at the same time relieved that it had finally happened, the miscarriage was over and we could begin our healing process. We wrapped it in tissue and put it in a little box and then Jason took it to an orange orchard and buried it. After seeing it, we couldn't bear to flush it down the toilet. We felt like we had had closure.
Then the heavy bleeding and intense cramping started. Didn't really think anything of it, I had been told to expect both. So when I went to the bathroom, peed, and stood up, I was really not expecting to feel anything slide out of me.
It was the placenta. Fully intact. Roughly the size of an apricot, and we could see a large mass inside.
I started shaking, sobbing and called for Jason. This was our baby, not what we had cried over, mourned and buried hours before.
I didn't know what to do. Do I somehow preserve it to take to our clinic tomorrow for testing? How does one go about preserving a placenta and embryo? I was beside myself. I called my cousin who suggested we call the on-call nurse at our medical clinic, who in turn recommended that we go to the ER - their guidelines dictated that any patient with passage of tissue that large seek immediate medical attention.
So we go to the ER, our sweet little baby encased in toilet paper and sealed in a clean plastic zipper bag. It's 6:45pm. They were very nice, got us in fairly quickly, and then the barrage began: meet and greet with the doctor, ultrasound (both abdominal and vaginal), blood work (5 vials, including blood type), urine sample, pelvic exam, and, the most painful of all, watching our baby be taken away in a container for testing. The doctor peeled, yes, peeled, the placenta from the toilet paper, and dropped it in a container for the lab. I know it's soul is no longer there, but it was heart breaking to witness. I wish she would have done it away from us - to us, that was our baby, but to her, it was a specimen for the lab to poke and prod.
The ultrasound looked good: no residual tissue in my uterus, and no sign of ectopic pregnancy. She checked my cervix (which she said was extremely posterior, and quite uncommon, oh goody) and it's almost closed, so the miscarriage is coming to an end. My blood type (which I already knew) came back B- so she told me I needed a RhoGam shot (because I have the rh negative factor). And here's the thing that really upsets me: I really needed that RhoGam shot. If I had not gone in to the ER, I could have DIED. Yes, died. The miscarriage mixed my blood with the blood of our baby. The next time I'm pregnant, if our baby does not have RH negative blood like me (which is highly probable because Jason is RH+), not only would I have gotten extremely ill and possibly died, our baby would not have survived. Basically, my body and the baby's body would have been attacking each other since our blood was mixed. It was imperative that I receive that shot. And my doctor at the fertility clinic said NOTHING to me about it. He never said, "Since you're RH-, if you miscarry, you need to get a RhoGam shot." Know why? Because he's never run a blood type test, but here's the thing: I've told him I'm RH negative. So upset, so frustrated and pretty scared.
Thanks to my cousin telling me to call the on-call nurse, I got the shot I needed and I'm going to be ok. Good Lord, what a day.
It's 12:30am. Long, dramatic, traumatic day, but we're home. I never thought I would witness what I witnessed today. I never expected to see the placenta with our little one inside. I'm so sorry we buried just tissue in the orchard, and that our baby is in a lab somewhere waiting to be taken apart and examined. It makes me ill to think about. So I won't. Or at least I'll try my very best not to. I know it's spirit is running wild up in Heaven, running wild and playing like any little child should.
I will choose think of that instead. And smile.
Let me back it up a bit.
I passed a large piece of tissue around 11am this morning, and we thought it was the embryo. It was light pink/flesh colored and had a spongy texture. We were extremely emotional, but at the same time relieved that it had finally happened, the miscarriage was over and we could begin our healing process. We wrapped it in tissue and put it in a little box and then Jason took it to an orange orchard and buried it. After seeing it, we couldn't bear to flush it down the toilet. We felt like we had had closure.
Then the heavy bleeding and intense cramping started. Didn't really think anything of it, I had been told to expect both. So when I went to the bathroom, peed, and stood up, I was really not expecting to feel anything slide out of me.
It was the placenta. Fully intact. Roughly the size of an apricot, and we could see a large mass inside.
I started shaking, sobbing and called for Jason. This was our baby, not what we had cried over, mourned and buried hours before.
I didn't know what to do. Do I somehow preserve it to take to our clinic tomorrow for testing? How does one go about preserving a placenta and embryo? I was beside myself. I called my cousin who suggested we call the on-call nurse at our medical clinic, who in turn recommended that we go to the ER - their guidelines dictated that any patient with passage of tissue that large seek immediate medical attention.
So we go to the ER, our sweet little baby encased in toilet paper and sealed in a clean plastic zipper bag. It's 6:45pm. They were very nice, got us in fairly quickly, and then the barrage began: meet and greet with the doctor, ultrasound (both abdominal and vaginal), blood work (5 vials, including blood type), urine sample, pelvic exam, and, the most painful of all, watching our baby be taken away in a container for testing. The doctor peeled, yes, peeled, the placenta from the toilet paper, and dropped it in a container for the lab. I know it's soul is no longer there, but it was heart breaking to witness. I wish she would have done it away from us - to us, that was our baby, but to her, it was a specimen for the lab to poke and prod.
The ultrasound looked good: no residual tissue in my uterus, and no sign of ectopic pregnancy. She checked my cervix (which she said was extremely posterior, and quite uncommon, oh goody) and it's almost closed, so the miscarriage is coming to an end. My blood type (which I already knew) came back B- so she told me I needed a RhoGam shot (because I have the rh negative factor). And here's the thing that really upsets me: I really needed that RhoGam shot. If I had not gone in to the ER, I could have DIED. Yes, died. The miscarriage mixed my blood with the blood of our baby. The next time I'm pregnant, if our baby does not have RH negative blood like me (which is highly probable because Jason is RH+), not only would I have gotten extremely ill and possibly died, our baby would not have survived. Basically, my body and the baby's body would have been attacking each other since our blood was mixed. It was imperative that I receive that shot. And my doctor at the fertility clinic said NOTHING to me about it. He never said, "Since you're RH-, if you miscarry, you need to get a RhoGam shot." Know why? Because he's never run a blood type test, but here's the thing: I've told him I'm RH negative. So upset, so frustrated and pretty scared.
Thanks to my cousin telling me to call the on-call nurse, I got the shot I needed and I'm going to be ok. Good Lord, what a day.
It's 12:30am. Long, dramatic, traumatic day, but we're home. I never thought I would witness what I witnessed today. I never expected to see the placenta with our little one inside. I'm so sorry we buried just tissue in the orchard, and that our baby is in a lab somewhere waiting to be taken apart and examined. It makes me ill to think about. So I won't. Or at least I'll try my very best not to. I know it's spirit is running wild up in Heaven, running wild and playing like any little child should.
I will choose think of that instead. And smile.
Saturday, October 15, 2011
Pregnancy & Infant Loss Remembrance - Amanda's day
Today is October 15th, Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day. This day holds significance for me for several reasons.
As I type this post, I am experiencing a miscarriage, my first and God willing, my last. However, there are many in my family and circle of friends (including my blogosphere buddies) who have also suffered such a loss, some of them several times over. But the reason that this day is most significant to me, even eclipsing our own loss, is because of my sister, Amanda.
Amanda was born still 30 years ago this coming Tuesday, October 18. My mom carried her full term and it was discovered, after a day or two of not feeling any movement (which is sometimes considered normal at the end of a pregnancy), that she had died in the womb due to umbilical cord strangulation. This was in 1981 and technology has advanced quite a bit since then. In addition, this was before the days of watching a mom-to-be extra closely if she had suffered prior losses: my mom had had 2 miscarriages prior to Amanda's conception, one of them at 12 weeks. This was also before some doctors realized that a still born baby was still very much someone's child, someone who had been immensely prayed for and loved - she already had a name. My parents never even got to hold their baby girl - the doctor's whisked her away before they could even get a good look at her, before they had a chance to say good-bye. My poor mom gave birth to her daughter vaginally, knowing that she was already gone. My mom doesn't remember the physical pain of the labor and delivery, as her emotional despair was so beyond comprehension. It had taken my parents 5 long years of trying and heartache to get their baby, and she was born sleeping. They had all but given up hope entirely when I came along, 2 years later.
Amanda and I share a middle name, but we share far more than that. I believe she is my guardian angel, with me in times of need. I believe she was in the room by my side during my open heart surgery, when my husband and parents couldn't be, and I believe she is taking care of our little one in heaven, because we cannot. Technically, by definition, I am an only child. I grew up without any siblings running around in the house, but I had 3 siblings in heaven.
Amanda will never be forgotten - my family visits her graveside every year for her birthday and Christmas, sometimes extra times if we're in town. I know she watches over me, and I find great comfort in that. And, she gets to spend time with our grandparents now that they've passed on, too. We share everything, just at different times, and in different ways. You're forever in our hearts, my sweet sister, forever in our hearts.
As I type this post, I am experiencing a miscarriage, my first and God willing, my last. However, there are many in my family and circle of friends (including my blogosphere buddies) who have also suffered such a loss, some of them several times over. But the reason that this day is most significant to me, even eclipsing our own loss, is because of my sister, Amanda.
Amanda was born still 30 years ago this coming Tuesday, October 18. My mom carried her full term and it was discovered, after a day or two of not feeling any movement (which is sometimes considered normal at the end of a pregnancy), that she had died in the womb due to umbilical cord strangulation. This was in 1981 and technology has advanced quite a bit since then. In addition, this was before the days of watching a mom-to-be extra closely if she had suffered prior losses: my mom had had 2 miscarriages prior to Amanda's conception, one of them at 12 weeks. This was also before some doctors realized that a still born baby was still very much someone's child, someone who had been immensely prayed for and loved - she already had a name. My parents never even got to hold their baby girl - the doctor's whisked her away before they could even get a good look at her, before they had a chance to say good-bye. My poor mom gave birth to her daughter vaginally, knowing that she was already gone. My mom doesn't remember the physical pain of the labor and delivery, as her emotional despair was so beyond comprehension. It had taken my parents 5 long years of trying and heartache to get their baby, and she was born sleeping. They had all but given up hope entirely when I came along, 2 years later.
Amanda and I share a middle name, but we share far more than that. I believe she is my guardian angel, with me in times of need. I believe she was in the room by my side during my open heart surgery, when my husband and parents couldn't be, and I believe she is taking care of our little one in heaven, because we cannot. Technically, by definition, I am an only child. I grew up without any siblings running around in the house, but I had 3 siblings in heaven.
Amanda will never be forgotten - my family visits her graveside every year for her birthday and Christmas, sometimes extra times if we're in town. I know she watches over me, and I find great comfort in that. And, she gets to spend time with our grandparents now that they've passed on, too. We share everything, just at different times, and in different ways. You're forever in our hearts, my sweet sister, forever in our hearts.
Tuesday, October 11, 2011
The Long Good-bye
I started spotting a bit yesterday. More so today. Actually, if we're being truthful, it was more like pink mucus. And bits of tissue. Yes, that's right, tissue. Because this time, I'm bleeding out our baby. I can't tell you how much it pains me to wipe, see those little pink pieces, and then toss them away into the toilet bowl. Like they're nothing. But they are something - the biggest of somethings.
Please, Lord, please don't draw this out. Please don't make this good-bye any harder than it already is. And please, welcome our little one with open arms. Please take good care of our baby, and please tell him/her that they are perfect, that our love for them is beyond measure, that we were and are so honored to have been handpicked to be their mommy and daddy. That we know they tried their best to stay, but they couldn't. That it's ok. We'll always love them, always miss them, but we understand that they had to go, and it's ok. Until we meet again, Sweet Baby, you're forever in our hearts.
Please, Lord, please don't draw this out. Please don't make this good-bye any harder than it already is. And please, welcome our little one with open arms. Please take good care of our baby, and please tell him/her that they are perfect, that our love for them is beyond measure, that we were and are so honored to have been handpicked to be their mommy and daddy. That we know they tried their best to stay, but they couldn't. That it's ok. We'll always love them, always miss them, but we understand that they had to go, and it's ok. Until we meet again, Sweet Baby, you're forever in our hearts.
Sunday, October 9, 2011
Limbo
"It" hasn't happened yet. The miscarriage, I mean. The ironic thing is that I feel better now physically than I did weeks 5 & 6 of my pregnancy. But, I still feel pregnant: boobs still inflated and sore (although not quite as much), still very bloated, appetite is back, and still very tired. The fatigue could be sadness-fueled though. I don't feel very motivated to do much of anything. I hate that my body hasn't gotten on board with this miscarriage, when I've had to begin to come to terms with it mentally. The lingering pregnancy symptoms are like an evil constant reminder of the fact that I was pregnant, I was going to be a mom, and now, or in a few days or weeks, the life that was going to be, is going to leave my body forever.
We went to the pumpkin patch yesterday with my mom, who came down to spend the weekend with us. I LOVE fall. I love pumpkins, and baked goods, and the decorations and cooler weather. I have always loved going to the pumpkin patch, ever since I was a little girl. So I thought going would certainly cheer me up. And it did, but I had to get through the teeming mass of children, families and pregnant women first. I forgot about them. I forgot that the holidays, which begin in October and kick-off at the pumpkin patch, are all about family time, and candid family photos. We were wandering around the buckets and tables of pre-picked pumpkins and gourds when I came across a little family of three: just born baby with her two beaming, fanning over the beautiful- new-life-we-created-together parents. I stared at them. I couldn't look away, even though I know it's socially inappropriate to stare at people you don't know. Jason put his arm around me and turned me gently away. My mom touched my shoulder and said, "Are you ok, honey?" and my eyes welled up and I just had to get out of there. So we slumped away from the happy scene and went to the "you pick" section of the patch, which is spread out over a few acres and decidedly less crowded. My mood picked up as we aimlessly strolled along the rows looking for the perfect pumpkin, but my heart wasn't in it. Not really.
I hate this. All of it. I hate knowing that our baby is still inside of me but no longer healthy, that today would be the first day of week 7 and yet, it's not. Our baby stopped growing 2 weeks ago. The fact that it hasn't left me yet makes me horribly sad in a way I can't explain, like it doesn't want to leave, like it feels at home in a womb that can no longer properly care for it. I don't want it to ever leave me. I want it to stay inside and continue to grow and be born in May, just like we had begun to plan for. But at the same time, if it's not going to grow any more, if it's not meant to be born to us and live on this Earth, I need for it to pass, so Jason and I can begin to heal and move forward, because right now, we're in limbo. We don't know when it's going to happen, and sometimes, since it hasn't yet, we wonder IF it's going to happen at all. Maybe the doctor is wrong, maybe the blood work wasn't all that bad, maybe this will be our miracle baby after all.
What are we supposed to think? Supposed to feel? Supposed to do? We love a baby that isn't meant to be, a baby we'll never meet. Are we parents? We have a child who would answer if we called out it's name in Heaven, but our arms remain empty here on Earth. How do we move forward, and find ourselves again, be happy again and have hope that we'll get our family? How do people do this over, and over, and over again? Will I always feel like a piece of me is missing? I feel so lost.
We went to the pumpkin patch yesterday with my mom, who came down to spend the weekend with us. I LOVE fall. I love pumpkins, and baked goods, and the decorations and cooler weather. I have always loved going to the pumpkin patch, ever since I was a little girl. So I thought going would certainly cheer me up. And it did, but I had to get through the teeming mass of children, families and pregnant women first. I forgot about them. I forgot that the holidays, which begin in October and kick-off at the pumpkin patch, are all about family time, and candid family photos. We were wandering around the buckets and tables of pre-picked pumpkins and gourds when I came across a little family of three: just born baby with her two beaming, fanning over the beautiful- new-life-we-created-together parents. I stared at them. I couldn't look away, even though I know it's socially inappropriate to stare at people you don't know. Jason put his arm around me and turned me gently away. My mom touched my shoulder and said, "Are you ok, honey?" and my eyes welled up and I just had to get out of there. So we slumped away from the happy scene and went to the "you pick" section of the patch, which is spread out over a few acres and decidedly less crowded. My mood picked up as we aimlessly strolled along the rows looking for the perfect pumpkin, but my heart wasn't in it. Not really.
I hate this. All of it. I hate knowing that our baby is still inside of me but no longer healthy, that today would be the first day of week 7 and yet, it's not. Our baby stopped growing 2 weeks ago. The fact that it hasn't left me yet makes me horribly sad in a way I can't explain, like it doesn't want to leave, like it feels at home in a womb that can no longer properly care for it. I don't want it to ever leave me. I want it to stay inside and continue to grow and be born in May, just like we had begun to plan for. But at the same time, if it's not going to grow any more, if it's not meant to be born to us and live on this Earth, I need for it to pass, so Jason and I can begin to heal and move forward, because right now, we're in limbo. We don't know when it's going to happen, and sometimes, since it hasn't yet, we wonder IF it's going to happen at all. Maybe the doctor is wrong, maybe the blood work wasn't all that bad, maybe this will be our miracle baby after all.
What are we supposed to think? Supposed to feel? Supposed to do? We love a baby that isn't meant to be, a baby we'll never meet. Are we parents? We have a child who would answer if we called out it's name in Heaven, but our arms remain empty here on Earth. How do we move forward, and find ourselves again, be happy again and have hope that we'll get our family? How do people do this over, and over, and over again? Will I always feel like a piece of me is missing? I feel so lost.
Wednesday, October 5, 2011
How do you mend a broken heart?
My blood results were not positive today - my HCG levels are decreasing, which means a miscarriage is imminent. Just a matter of time. Turns out the doctor was right.
How do you put into words a sadness that begins in the deepest regions of your heart, and radiates outward to the very tips of your toes, to the end of every individual strand of hair, that reflects in your eyes and is felt with every fiber of your very soul?
We will have to say good-bye to our first child, instead of getting to say hello as we so hoped and prayed. I hope it knows how very much it was wanted, how loved it was from the very moment it came to be. How loved it still is and will always be. I'll always wonder if it would have been a boy or a girl, always wonder if it would have looked like me or more like Jason. What would it's name have been? I bet it's smile would have lit up a room, and I know he/she would have been the sunshine of our lives.
I am not ready to say good-bye. I know I'll never be ready. Not ever.
How do you put into words a sadness that begins in the deepest regions of your heart, and radiates outward to the very tips of your toes, to the end of every individual strand of hair, that reflects in your eyes and is felt with every fiber of your very soul?
We will have to say good-bye to our first child, instead of getting to say hello as we so hoped and prayed. I hope it knows how very much it was wanted, how loved it was from the very moment it came to be. How loved it still is and will always be. I'll always wonder if it would have been a boy or a girl, always wonder if it would have looked like me or more like Jason. What would it's name have been? I bet it's smile would have lit up a room, and I know he/she would have been the sunshine of our lives.
I am not ready to say good-bye. I know I'll never be ready. Not ever.
"No farewell words were spoken, no time to say goodbye.
You were gone before we knew it, and only God knows why."
Monday, October 3, 2011
New Beta - still not promising
My beta came back at 1300. It needed to over 1000 to still be considered "in the game." However, we are not out of the woods because that number does not jive with my first beta 2 weeks ago, which was 410. If that first number was accurate, my current beta should be much higher. So, I am beginning to wonder if that number was somehow inaccurate. I don't know how that would have happened or if maybe I'm just holding on to false hope, but it's the only other option we have right now other than something being wrong and I don't want to believe that, it hurts too much.
I am trying to get another blood test scheduled for Wednesday to see what direction we're heading in. Even if it's not enough time to double, it's enough time to show some movement one way or another, forward or back. If it increases at all, I'll have hope. If not, then we know what's to come.
I am so emotionally spent. I am trying my hardest to think of today's results as a positive thing, but it's honestly just neutral. It wasn't a horrible result, but it wasn't something that jived with my first beta. That number should be closer to 4k, not 1300. It's very possible that this pregnancy isn't viable, that maybe 4 days ago, my beta was 3000 and today it's 1300. We just have nothing to compare it to, just two numbers two weeks apart that don't match up.
We are scheduled to leave for Hawaii on Friday to meet our new niece. We were planning to tell Jason's family about our good news. I have a onesie with "I'm getting a cousin!" on it packed in my suitcase. We bought a baby name book on Saturday. I checked out pregnancy books from the library, which are stacked next to my nightstand. Our bathroom counter is lined with all 5 of my positive pregnancy tests to serve as a reminder because I've been so scared this whole time. And now this. What I've been fearing might actually come to pass. How can I go on this trip if it turns out I'm going to miscarry? Chances are, it'll happen while we're away and I can't imagine going through something so emotional and painful in a foreign environment, with a newborn baby in the next room, because we're staying with my brother and sister-in-law. If I can get my blood drawn again on Wednesday, and it shows promising increase, we'll still go. If it comes back less than 1300, we won't. I just can't. What if I miscarried on the plane? Six long hours of torture, physical and emotional. How would me miscarrying in Hawaii do anyone any good? They'd all feel bad, Jason and I would be miserable, and I'd feel guilty for essentially ruining the trip for all, even though it's outside of my control.
How did such a promising day, one that we have been looking forward to fortwo weeks three years turn in to this day from hell?? I just don't understand. After all I've been through, I still don't understand how life can turn on a dime...
Please God, please don't take this baby away from us. Keep it healthy and strong, and help me believe in miracles. We need a miracle. I'm not ready to say good-bye, especially since it was just two short weeks ago that we first said hello. I love you, Baby, and so does Daddy, so much. Don't go where we can't follow. You're meant to be here with us, please stay. Please.
I am trying to get another blood test scheduled for Wednesday to see what direction we're heading in. Even if it's not enough time to double, it's enough time to show some movement one way or another, forward or back. If it increases at all, I'll have hope. If not, then we know what's to come.
I am so emotionally spent. I am trying my hardest to think of today's results as a positive thing, but it's honestly just neutral. It wasn't a horrible result, but it wasn't something that jived with my first beta. That number should be closer to 4k, not 1300. It's very possible that this pregnancy isn't viable, that maybe 4 days ago, my beta was 3000 and today it's 1300. We just have nothing to compare it to, just two numbers two weeks apart that don't match up.
We are scheduled to leave for Hawaii on Friday to meet our new niece. We were planning to tell Jason's family about our good news. I have a onesie with "I'm getting a cousin!" on it packed in my suitcase. We bought a baby name book on Saturday. I checked out pregnancy books from the library, which are stacked next to my nightstand. Our bathroom counter is lined with all 5 of my positive pregnancy tests to serve as a reminder because I've been so scared this whole time. And now this. What I've been fearing might actually come to pass. How can I go on this trip if it turns out I'm going to miscarry? Chances are, it'll happen while we're away and I can't imagine going through something so emotional and painful in a foreign environment, with a newborn baby in the next room, because we're staying with my brother and sister-in-law. If I can get my blood drawn again on Wednesday, and it shows promising increase, we'll still go. If it comes back less than 1300, we won't. I just can't. What if I miscarried on the plane? Six long hours of torture, physical and emotional. How would me miscarrying in Hawaii do anyone any good? They'd all feel bad, Jason and I would be miserable, and I'd feel guilty for essentially ruining the trip for all, even though it's outside of my control.
How did such a promising day, one that we have been looking forward to for
Please God, please don't take this baby away from us. Keep it healthy and strong, and help me believe in miracles. We need a miracle. I'm not ready to say good-bye, especially since it was just two short weeks ago that we first said hello. I love you, Baby, and so does Daddy, so much. Don't go where we can't follow. You're meant to be here with us, please stay. Please.
Ultrasound not good
Egg sac there, but I'm measuring a week behind, 5 wks instead of 6, so no heartbeat detected. Doctor very concerned, said that miscarriage is probable at this point. We are awaiting beta blood results.
I told him I had implantation bleeding at 12/13 dpo or cd26, that I thought it was too late for it to be implantation and expected my period to start, but it didn't, and then of course I turned out to be pregnant. I asked if it's possible that I really am behind due to a late implantation, especially since my first beta was so strong, and I haven't had any spotting or cramping, and I have had symptoms this whole time. He said it's possible, he's seen it happen before, but it doesn't happen often, especially since I received a trigger shot to induce ovulation on a set day. That I probably have a good placenta but not a good embryo. Why do I feel like he's giving up on this pregnancy before we even know the results of the beta? He also said, "well at least you got pregnant." Yep, thanks. He seemed confused as to why we were so upset, like it was too early to have gotten attached. I hate my clinic. I truly do.
It is an understatement to say that we are devastated and very confused. Why is this happening?????? I feel like a part of me is dying, has died. Please don't leave me, baby, please. Please please please please please.
I told him I had implantation bleeding at 12/13 dpo or cd26, that I thought it was too late for it to be implantation and expected my period to start, but it didn't, and then of course I turned out to be pregnant. I asked if it's possible that I really am behind due to a late implantation, especially since my first beta was so strong, and I haven't had any spotting or cramping, and I have had symptoms this whole time. He said it's possible, he's seen it happen before, but it doesn't happen often, especially since I received a trigger shot to induce ovulation on a set day. That I probably have a good placenta but not a good embryo. Why do I feel like he's giving up on this pregnancy before we even know the results of the beta? He also said, "well at least you got pregnant." Yep, thanks. He seemed confused as to why we were so upset, like it was too early to have gotten attached. I hate my clinic. I truly do.
It is an understatement to say that we are devastated and very confused. Why is this happening?????? I feel like a part of me is dying, has died. Please don't leave me, baby, please. Please please please please please.
Sunday, October 2, 2011
Birthday Blessings from Heaven
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| My grandpa and me on his 73rd birthday |
I've lost 3 grandparents in 9 years: Grandpa Vern the first two months of my freshman year of college; Grandma Lorraine the day after my 23rd birthday in 2007; and Grandpa Harry 5 1/2 short months ago. They were so very special to me. Being an only child, I enjoyed a very close relationship with each of my grandparents, and as the years roll by, I'm finding that I miss them more and more. Every single one of them would have been ecstatic to see their great-grandchild. It makes me so very sad that my one remaining grandparent doesn't even seem to care, or register that it's even happening. And I know it's not her fault, but it still hurts, and I know it hurts my mom, too. Essentially, she's really lost both of her parents and I've lost my one grandparent still with us here on Earth.
But, that being said, I know without a shadow of a doubt, that my beloved grandparents are partially to thank for the blessing that is growing inside of me. Along with Jason's sweet Grandma, I know they had a hand in picking out the beautiful soul that would become our child. I knew the timing had to be right, and when my Grandpa Harry went to Heaven in April, I knew he'd join the ranks of people looking down on us with love from above, and that maybe together, they would find the baby we'd been wishing for and help him/her find their way to us.
And seemingly, they have.
So happy birthday, Grandpa! Your Lissa loves you so very much and misses you every day. I wish you all could see how happy we are, and I wish you could meet your great-grandchild when he/she is born in May, but I'm thinking you do and you already have, and that makes me smile.
Saturday, October 1, 2011
Negative for Infection???
Lab results came back for my culture and it's negative for infection. NEGATIVE. So what the EFF is wrong with me??
On the one hand, I'm relieved it's not an infection, which means I don't have to take those antibiotics.
On the other hand, I'm terrified. Terrified that this is some early miscarriage situation and we're going to lose our baby. Why is this happening?? Why can't I just have a freaking NORMAL anything?!
Must keep calm, must keep calm, must keep calm.... Not spotting, not cramping. Maybe this is just me, how I do pregnancy. I have nothing to compare it to and I've been told time and again that each woman does pregnancy different, and additionally, that each pregnancy is different. If that's the case, I'm golden. Maybe I'm just a twingy, pully, weird sensation, back pain kinda pregnant girl.
Must keep calm. Monday is just around the corner... Please keep thinking good thoughts for us!!
On the one hand, I'm relieved it's not an infection, which means I don't have to take those antibiotics.
On the other hand, I'm terrified. Terrified that this is some early miscarriage situation and we're going to lose our baby. Why is this happening?? Why can't I just have a freaking NORMAL anything?!
Must keep calm, must keep calm, must keep calm.... Not spotting, not cramping. Maybe this is just me, how I do pregnancy. I have nothing to compare it to and I've been told time and again that each woman does pregnancy different, and additionally, that each pregnancy is different. If that's the case, I'm golden. Maybe I'm just a twingy, pully, weird sensation, back pain kinda pregnant girl.
Must keep calm. Monday is just around the corner... Please keep thinking good thoughts for us!!
I gave in
My back pain was getting worse, the pressure and uncomfortable feelings when I needed to pee and afterwards returned, and I got a horrible back spasm right around where my kidneys are this morning which freaked me the heck out, soooo I gave in. Actually, my mom told me to "take the damn pills" and since mother's know best, I took the damn pill. One with lunch, the next will be taken with dinner. I haven't gotten the results back from the culture that was sent to the lab but if this isn't an infection, I don't know what else it could be! Sure feels like one. Plus, the in-house test they did showed probability so I need to go with that and just let it go.
I feel better about taking them. I got the opinion of a high risk OB at UCLA who said they are what is most commonly prescribed with UTI's and bladder issues during pregnancy and to definitely take them if needed. If I can't trust a high risk OB from one of the best medical centers in the nation, who can I trust? Also, my best friend is a biochemist and she explained to me why antibiotics don't effect babies in utero: the molecules are too big to pass through the placental barrier as they are designed to help the body they are ingested by and to target specific areas of the body, unlike illegal drugs and alcohol which are absorbed by the body much more due to their small molecular size. I love having such smart friends, thanks Steph!!
So I hope to feel some relief soon. It's so hard to know what to do. I've been drinking water and unsweetened cranberry juice like crazy but it's not enough. I have to do what's going to get rid of the infection and keep us both safe, and not allow the infection to run rampant through my system and potentially harm the baby. And I need to learn to trust the professionals. I just want to give my baby the best chance possible - I want to do what's best for him/her and I thought trying to do so without meds was the best choice. But it wasn't working, it wasn't enough, and I just hope and pray that this baby stays strong and healthy!!!
Our first ultrasound is on Monday.... (!!!!)
I feel better about taking them. I got the opinion of a high risk OB at UCLA who said they are what is most commonly prescribed with UTI's and bladder issues during pregnancy and to definitely take them if needed. If I can't trust a high risk OB from one of the best medical centers in the nation, who can I trust? Also, my best friend is a biochemist and she explained to me why antibiotics don't effect babies in utero: the molecules are too big to pass through the placental barrier as they are designed to help the body they are ingested by and to target specific areas of the body, unlike illegal drugs and alcohol which are absorbed by the body much more due to their small molecular size. I love having such smart friends, thanks Steph!!
So I hope to feel some relief soon. It's so hard to know what to do. I've been drinking water and unsweetened cranberry juice like crazy but it's not enough. I have to do what's going to get rid of the infection and keep us both safe, and not allow the infection to run rampant through my system and potentially harm the baby. And I need to learn to trust the professionals. I just want to give my baby the best chance possible - I want to do what's best for him/her and I thought trying to do so without meds was the best choice. But it wasn't working, it wasn't enough, and I just hope and pray that this baby stays strong and healthy!!!
Our first ultrasound is on Monday.... (!!!!)
Thursday, September 29, 2011
Yes, I'm neurotic, but I don't care: it's not about me anymore
I went to urgent care today because I suspected I had a UTI. I don't have any blood in my urine or burning when I pee, but I do have the back ache and pressure. I told the doctor there that I was pregnant, that I had tried for 3 years to get pregnant, and that I was very worried about taking anything while pregnant. The pee stick test they did on my urine sample came back probable for an infection, so she prescribed me a pregnancy approved antibiotic called nitrofurantoin mon/mac 100mg (also referred to as macrobid). I even asked the pharmacist if it was approved for pregnant women and he said yes, that many of their pregnant patients take this med for UTI's.
I call my fertility clinic to ask what they think about me taking this medication but didn't expect to get a response, which {surprise, surprise} I didn't.
So I get home, and being me, I google this macrobid. And of course, being the internet, there are very scary stories posted there for me to freak out about. Some people said that a few days after taking it, they miscarried. FREAK OUT.
So I call my mom. She says that it's unlikely that if these women miscarried just days after taking a pregnancy approved antibiotic, it was not the meds that caused the miscarriage, that miscarriages occur over time, not just in a matter of a few days. That the baby had probably already died and it was just coincidental that the actual passing of the miscarried fetus occurred after taking the antibiotic.
Then I call the on-call nurse at my medical clinic. She says that she's not an RN from the OB department but she can look up the drug and see what she can see. It's a 'class B' medication, meaning it's safe for pregnancy. She knows that most patients are prescribed macrobid when pregnant, that it is VERY rare for an antibiotic to cause a miscarriage, but she recommends that I call urgent care and leave a message with the nurses there for the doc I saw to call me back.
So I do. And she does call back and is very kind to answer all of my neurotic questions. 1) It is VERY rare for an antibiotic, especially a pregnancy approved one, to cause a miscarriage. 2) Google is not the best place to receive medical advice ..... 3) She believes it is 100% safe for me to take {as it is the most commonly prescribed pregnancy UTI med}, but agrees with my hesitation since the pee test alone was not 100% conclusive for UTI, and I did not have any other symptoms besides mild back pain and extra discomfort and pressure when I need to pee. So, here was her suggestion: the culture results from my pee sample will be back in 2-3 days. They are open 7 days a week, so I can call over the weekend to get my results. If the results come back conclusively that I do indeed have a UTI, she recommends that I take the antibiotic, as an untreated infection running rampant in my body is not a risk anyone wants to take. BUT, if the culture comes back negative for infection, then no harm, no foul. She agreed that taking a medication when pregnant, especially when it is not needed and using it purely as a preventative measure is not really a smart plan.
There you have it. The neurosis of being a parent has already begun and the baby isn't even here yet. Every decision I make affects this baby growing inside of me. Is it the right one? The wrong one? Pull.Out.Hair.
Do you think I'm making the right decision? {Le sigh}
I call my fertility clinic to ask what they think about me taking this medication but didn't expect to get a response, which {surprise, surprise} I didn't.
So I get home, and being me, I google this macrobid. And of course, being the internet, there are very scary stories posted there for me to freak out about. Some people said that a few days after taking it, they miscarried. FREAK OUT.
So I call my mom. She says that it's unlikely that if these women miscarried just days after taking a pregnancy approved antibiotic, it was not the meds that caused the miscarriage, that miscarriages occur over time, not just in a matter of a few days. That the baby had probably already died and it was just coincidental that the actual passing of the miscarried fetus occurred after taking the antibiotic.
Then I call the on-call nurse at my medical clinic. She says that she's not an RN from the OB department but she can look up the drug and see what she can see. It's a 'class B' medication, meaning it's safe for pregnancy. She knows that most patients are prescribed macrobid when pregnant, that it is VERY rare for an antibiotic to cause a miscarriage, but she recommends that I call urgent care and leave a message with the nurses there for the doc I saw to call me back.
So I do. And she does call back and is very kind to answer all of my neurotic questions. 1) It is VERY rare for an antibiotic, especially a pregnancy approved one, to cause a miscarriage. 2) Google is not the best place to receive medical advice ..... 3) She believes it is 100% safe for me to take {as it is the most commonly prescribed pregnancy UTI med}, but agrees with my hesitation since the pee test alone was not 100% conclusive for UTI, and I did not have any other symptoms besides mild back pain and extra discomfort and pressure when I need to pee. So, here was her suggestion: the culture results from my pee sample will be back in 2-3 days. They are open 7 days a week, so I can call over the weekend to get my results. If the results come back conclusively that I do indeed have a UTI, she recommends that I take the antibiotic, as an untreated infection running rampant in my body is not a risk anyone wants to take. BUT, if the culture comes back negative for infection, then no harm, no foul. She agreed that taking a medication when pregnant, especially when it is not needed and using it purely as a preventative measure is not really a smart plan.
There you have it. The neurosis of being a parent has already begun and the baby isn't even here yet. Every decision I make affects this baby growing inside of me. Is it the right one? The wrong one? Pull.Out.Hair.
Do you think I'm making the right decision? {Le sigh}
Wednesday, September 28, 2011
Nerves and onesies
This coming Monday is our very first ultrasound. We get to "meet" out little baby to be and we are sooo excited but nervous, too. Are all ultrasounds nerve wracking to enter in to? I'm guessing yes. We will definitely report back on how it goes...do we have one baby growing in there or two? From my kinda high initial beta, the nurse didn't rule out multiples but said we'd have to wait and see what the ultrasound showed. Big day!!
We're traveling to Hawaii in 9 days to meet our niece and visit Jason's brother and our sister in law. It's a family trip so we're going with my in-law's and since it's rare that we're all together in one place due to distance, we've kept the baby a secret from his family thus far and are planning on telling them in person by putting our niece in a little violet onesie that says, "I'm getting a cousin!" Good times :)
We're traveling to Hawaii in 9 days to meet our niece and visit Jason's brother and our sister in law. It's a family trip so we're going with my in-law's and since it's rare that we're all together in one place due to distance, we've kept the baby a secret from his family thus far and are planning on telling them in person by putting our niece in a little violet onesie that says, "I'm getting a cousin!" Good times :)
Sunday, September 25, 2011
5 wks & first belly shot
I am 5 whole weeks pregnant today...only 245 days to go! haha Our little Twinkie is the size of a sesame seed this week, up from a poppy seed last week, which means baby is about twice as big. A lot is happening in there!
I felt kind of silly taking a belly shot at this point, since there's really nothing to see, but as Jason pointed out, we've gotta start somewhere and I want to see the progression. So here it is, my 5 wks belly shot. That little roundness of my belly, yea, that's bloat. :)
Friday, September 23, 2011
If I thought I was anxiety ridden before...
...then I was sadly and sorely mistaken. I'm pregnant. The thing I thought I'd never see has come to pass and now, I'm filled with such fear, dread and anxiety about the possibility of losing it, that it's nearly all I think about. I try to push it aside, but it just comes creeping back in. "You've gotten what you've always wanted, and now it's time to take it away," it says. "If it seems to too good to be true, it usually is," it whispers. GO. AWAY.
Please don't misunderstand. I know how very lucky and blessed we are, but once an infertile, always an infertile, I guess. I'm just waiting for the other shoe to drop, and I hate that. I would give anything to just revel in the awesomeness that is this miracle but the what if's are horrible, the worst they've ever been. Every twinge, every small ache or cramp, sets me on edge. Some are nice, like the tickly, itching sensation that ran across my belly yesterday afternoon, or the sensation of warmth coming from deep within that surprised me during my lunch break yesterday. I rub my belly and tell it, "Mommy and Daddy love you, stay strong, keep on growing." I wish I could gaze into a crystal ball and see what comes after these first three months.
One day at a time, one day at a time, one day at a time. We love you, baby, and I was so, SO right: you were more than worth the wait. Just be a good boy or girl and keep on growing. :)
Please don't misunderstand. I know how very lucky and blessed we are, but once an infertile, always an infertile, I guess. I'm just waiting for the other shoe to drop, and I hate that. I would give anything to just revel in the awesomeness that is this miracle but the what if's are horrible, the worst they've ever been. Every twinge, every small ache or cramp, sets me on edge. Some are nice, like the tickly, itching sensation that ran across my belly yesterday afternoon, or the sensation of warmth coming from deep within that surprised me during my lunch break yesterday. I rub my belly and tell it, "Mommy and Daddy love you, stay strong, keep on growing." I wish I could gaze into a crystal ball and see what comes after these first three months.
One day at a time, one day at a time, one day at a time. We love you, baby, and I was so, SO right: you were more than worth the wait. Just be a good boy or girl and keep on growing. :)
Tuesday, September 20, 2011
Still can't believe it's REAL!
My beta came back really good yesterday! My clinic said they would have been happy with anything above 150 and my beta was 410!! So, our first ultrasound appointment is scheduled for Monday, October 3 at 8am. I will be 6wks, 1 day. So exciting, and yet still so so surreal....
I've said from the beginning that this blog is my space to chronicle our journey to baby. I have seen these weekly pregnancy questionnaires on other "success after infertility" blogs and I thought it would be a good way to keep track of how I'm feeling for my own benefit, while also documenting my progress for our family and friends {especially for those we don't get to see much due to distance}. I don't plan on doing it every week {that would be a bit redundant}, but I'll try to do it every few weeks or so. Every once in awhile, I'll post a belly pic, too. So, here we go...entry #1!
How far along?: 4 wks, 2 days :)
Pregnancy Symptoms: bloated, gassy, some pulling/tugging sensations in my tummy, back ache, frequent urination, some sporadic nausea. Sore, swollen boobs. Abs feel very tight, like I've done a ton of crunches. Starting to feel some fatigue, but not too bad yet.
Total weight gain/loss: just water weight mostly from the bloat, probably way less than a pound at this point. It feels like more though!
Maternity clothes?: Not yet, but I'm excited!
Stretch marks?: Nothing new as of yet, just a few white/clear ones on my hips from a growth spurt when I was younger.
Sleep: Last night, pretty good. I woke up in a sweat, though. Yay hormones! The prior few nights were a joke. Couldn't stay asleep, couldn't fall back asleep if {or should I say when} I woke up to pee. I pee about 2-3x a night.
Best moment this week: Finding out we were PREGNANT!!!!! :D
Movement: Nope, way too early. But it's so amazing to think there's a little "us" in there!
Food cravings: I don't crave anything specific yet, but I have noticed I am more excited to eat savory or spicy food than I am anything sweet. Fruity smells kind of make my stomach turn.
Gender: UGH long wait ahead yet for that one! I honestly don't have a preference. I know some people do, and I'm not saying it's bad if you do by any means, but not me. I used to think I wanted a girl, but that was before infertility. Now I just want a healthy baby, boy or girl.
Labor Signs: Dear God, no!!
Belly Button in or out?: No change as of yet.
Wedding rings on or off?: Still on!
What I miss: FETA!! Also, my Nescafe - it has aspartame sugar and that's a no-no.
What I am looking forward to: Oh my....having a CHILD!! haha Being a Mommy! My husband becoming a Daddy, and watching him with our child. Watching my belly grow, maternity clothes, registering for baby stuff. If I had to pick a moment? When our child is placed in my arms for the very first time. *tear*
Weekly Wisdom: Don't worry, don't worry, don't worry!!! One day at a time...
Milestones: We conceived a child. HUGE milestone in my book!!
I've said from the beginning that this blog is my space to chronicle our journey to baby. I have seen these weekly pregnancy questionnaires on other "success after infertility" blogs and I thought it would be a good way to keep track of how I'm feeling for my own benefit, while also documenting my progress for our family and friends {especially for those we don't get to see much due to distance}. I don't plan on doing it every week {that would be a bit redundant}, but I'll try to do it every few weeks or so. Every once in awhile, I'll post a belly pic, too. So, here we go...entry #1!
How far along?: 4 wks, 2 days :)
Pregnancy Symptoms: bloated, gassy, some pulling/tugging sensations in my tummy, back ache, frequent urination, some sporadic nausea. Sore, swollen boobs. Abs feel very tight, like I've done a ton of crunches. Starting to feel some fatigue, but not too bad yet.
Total weight gain/loss: just water weight mostly from the bloat, probably way less than a pound at this point. It feels like more though!
Maternity clothes?: Not yet, but I'm excited!
Stretch marks?: Nothing new as of yet, just a few white/clear ones on my hips from a growth spurt when I was younger.
Sleep: Last night, pretty good. I woke up in a sweat, though. Yay hormones! The prior few nights were a joke. Couldn't stay asleep, couldn't fall back asleep if {or should I say when} I woke up to pee. I pee about 2-3x a night.
Best moment this week: Finding out we were PREGNANT!!!!! :D
Movement: Nope, way too early. But it's so amazing to think there's a little "us" in there!
Food cravings: I don't crave anything specific yet, but I have noticed I am more excited to eat savory or spicy food than I am anything sweet. Fruity smells kind of make my stomach turn.
Gender: UGH long wait ahead yet for that one! I honestly don't have a preference. I know some people do, and I'm not saying it's bad if you do by any means, but not me. I used to think I wanted a girl, but that was before infertility. Now I just want a healthy baby, boy or girl.
Labor Signs: Dear God, no!!
Belly Button in or out?: No change as of yet.
Wedding rings on or off?: Still on!
What I miss: FETA!! Also, my Nescafe - it has aspartame sugar and that's a no-no.
What I am looking forward to: Oh my....having a CHILD!! haha Being a Mommy! My husband becoming a Daddy, and watching him with our child. Watching my belly grow, maternity clothes, registering for baby stuff. If I had to pick a moment? When our child is placed in my arms for the very first time. *tear*
Weekly Wisdom: Don't worry, don't worry, don't worry!!! One day at a time...
Milestones: We conceived a child. HUGE milestone in my book!!
Monday, September 19, 2011
At Last
We are going to be parents. At long last. I got my very first BFP at 2am this morning and there's no mistaking it. {The pic doesn't do it justice, but you get the idea}. We are elated, overjoyed, hysterically happy, and yes, a bit surprised. I really thought it wasn't going to happen for us. Thank you Lord, thank you thank you. I have waited a long time to say this:
I am PREGNANT!!!!!!! :D
It feels strange, alien. Like this couldn't really be happening, but it is. I get my blood drawn today to check the numbers, but I'm pretty confident.
Thank you, from the very bottom of my heart for being there for us. I know this journey is far from over and that the anxiety is just beginning. I know that PCOS comes with a high rate of miscarriage. It is very early, and we have a long ways to go, but we are ecstatic.
If you're reading this and we're friends in real life, I am not planning on saying anything on Facebook until we're at 12 weeks, so please don't even hint at this pregnancy on FB. I don't know how I'm going to keep mum, but it's for the best. And THANK YOU for all of your love, support, and for never giving up on us, even when I wanted to. Love love love.
For those still waiting for their BFP's please don't leave. Please don't stop following along. But I'll understand if you do. You have to do what feels right for you, and I know much it hurts to read posts like this. But I would love for you to stay, and thank you for following along thus far. You are all in my prayers, and your support means so much.
Oh. My. God. Wow.
I am PREGNANT!!!!!!! :D
It feels strange, alien. Like this couldn't really be happening, but it is. I get my blood drawn today to check the numbers, but I'm pretty confident.
Thank you, from the very bottom of my heart for being there for us. I know this journey is far from over and that the anxiety is just beginning. I know that PCOS comes with a high rate of miscarriage. It is very early, and we have a long ways to go, but we are ecstatic.
If you're reading this and we're friends in real life, I am not planning on saying anything on Facebook until we're at 12 weeks, so please don't even hint at this pregnancy on FB. I don't know how I'm going to keep mum, but it's for the best. And THANK YOU for all of your love, support, and for never giving up on us, even when I wanted to. Love love love.
For those still waiting for their BFP's please don't leave. Please don't stop following along. But I'll understand if you do. You have to do what feels right for you, and I know much it hurts to read posts like this. But I would love for you to stay, and thank you for following along thus far. You are all in my prayers, and your support means so much.
Oh. My. God. Wow.
Thursday, September 15, 2011
"Hell" or, "The End of the 2ww"
I've been getting mixed signals from my body. For the past few days, I've been feeling super warm, especially at night, like radiating heat. I'm having trouble sleeping/staying asleep. Last night, for instance, I woke up every hour/hour and a half, and each time, I had to pee. I've been feeling achy. I've had headaches. My lower back aches, and I feel kind of crampy (not painful, but more along the lines of a dull ache). I'm exhausted, and yet, I don't sleep well at night. I'm bloated, and for the last few days, I've been waking up with a stuffy nose that goes away as soon as I am no longer horizontal. I was nauseous on Monday, again this morning, and overall I feel weird in the mornings...but maybe that's because I'm not sleeping well. I took a nap the other day (before I was having trouble sleeping), which I never do. And today: brown cervical mucus. Implantation bleeding? Maybe, but let's face facts, probably not.
I HATE this last part of the two week wait!! Is it my period, or am I finally pregnant?? Who knows. I don't. Do you??
I've read that many women feel like they're coming down with the flu when in actuality, they're pregnant. Is that what's going on with me? Today is CD 26/12 DPO. I feel like it's 1) too early for my period to start since my cycles are usually 30-32 days long, but 2) too late for implantation bleeding, even though I've read that it can occur anywhere from 8-12dpo. I ovulated on CD 14 or 15 this month due to the HCG shot so does that mean I'm going to have a 28/29 day cycle this month? Does ovulation always occur right smack dab in the middle of your cycle?
I'm really starting to think this cycle is yet another bust. I just don't have a good feeling about it right now, at all. That brown mucus really threw a big fat wrench into the mix, because I honestly think my period is on its way. Which makes me want to hurl and/or punch a whole in the wall and/or cry my eyes out. When I first saw it, I was confused, and then a bit encouraged, and then...upset. Because I just don't think it's what I want. Not at CD 26, and not when I'm having some cramping.
***********
In other news, I started a temp job yesterday. Great, yes, but also, not so great in that it's going to severely hamper my ability to go in whenever I need to for my fertility treatments. If this cycle doesn't take (God forbid...) and we need to do another IUI, how will I make my appointments? I'm a temp, I have no work history with the company so they don't really know me from Adam, nor do I have time accrued to take off. I called our clinic today and found out that they do all ultrasounds at 8am, and IUI's at 9am (sperm samples are dropped off at 7:30am). For example, if my CD 12 ultrasound is at 8am on a Wednesday, and I need an IUI that Friday, how the eff am I going to get that time off?? Two doctor's appointments in one week? And, you don't know when your IUI is going to be until the ultrasound so it's not like I can tell the boss ahead of time. I was lying awake last night worrying about all of this. Why is this just all so complicated and hard? What am I going to do?
I HATE this last part of the two week wait!! Is it my period, or am I finally pregnant?? Who knows. I don't. Do you??
I've read that many women feel like they're coming down with the flu when in actuality, they're pregnant. Is that what's going on with me? Today is CD 26/12 DPO. I feel like it's 1) too early for my period to start since my cycles are usually 30-32 days long, but 2) too late for implantation bleeding, even though I've read that it can occur anywhere from 8-12dpo. I ovulated on CD 14 or 15 this month due to the HCG shot so does that mean I'm going to have a 28/29 day cycle this month? Does ovulation always occur right smack dab in the middle of your cycle?
I'm really starting to think this cycle is yet another bust. I just don't have a good feeling about it right now, at all. That brown mucus really threw a big fat wrench into the mix, because I honestly think my period is on its way. Which makes me want to hurl and/or punch a whole in the wall and/or cry my eyes out. When I first saw it, I was confused, and then a bit encouraged, and then...upset. Because I just don't think it's what I want. Not at CD 26, and not when I'm having some cramping.
***********
In other news, I started a temp job yesterday. Great, yes, but also, not so great in that it's going to severely hamper my ability to go in whenever I need to for my fertility treatments. If this cycle doesn't take (God forbid...) and we need to do another IUI, how will I make my appointments? I'm a temp, I have no work history with the company so they don't really know me from Adam, nor do I have time accrued to take off. I called our clinic today and found out that they do all ultrasounds at 8am, and IUI's at 9am (sperm samples are dropped off at 7:30am). For example, if my CD 12 ultrasound is at 8am on a Wednesday, and I need an IUI that Friday, how the eff am I going to get that time off?? Two doctor's appointments in one week? And, you don't know when your IUI is going to be until the ultrasound so it's not like I can tell the boss ahead of time. I was lying awake last night worrying about all of this. Why is this just all so complicated and hard? What am I going to do?
Tuesday, September 13, 2011
Ovulation: Check!
Phew! My progesterone blood test results came back at 13.9, which means I ovulated! My egg was indeed released down the shoot and hopefully met up with those stellar sperm. I'm relieved. Very relieved, in fact. It's one step closer to a BFP.
I asked if the number is ever indicative of pregnancy and she said no, not at that stage {which was CD 20}. It just shows whether or not I ovulated. Women can get pregnant with progesterone levels of higher, the same, or lower than what I had, so it's really just unique to the woman.
Oh please, please, please let this be our month. Please, please, please, please, please....
I asked if the number is ever indicative of pregnancy and she said no, not at that stage {which was CD 20}. It just shows whether or not I ovulated. Women can get pregnant with progesterone levels of higher, the same, or lower than what I had, so it's really just unique to the woman.
Oh please, please, please let this be our month. Please, please, please, please, please....
Sunday, September 11, 2011
Reflection
I wrote an entry on my other blog reflecting upon the events of September 11, 2001. If you have a moment, please read it, I've attached the link below. Comment if you like, but above all else, please take a moment or two {or longer} to honor the lives we lost that day. We will never forget.
http://melissanam2227.blogspot.com/2011/09/reflection.html
http://melissanam2227.blogspot.com/2011/09/reflection.html
Friday, September 9, 2011
Hey, crazy, it's me, Melissa
I feel crazy. I feel like I'm not going to make it through this 2ww. Today is 6 dpo. I have some very slight what-might-be-characterized-as-symptoms symptoms. But in my heart of hearts, I know it's truly too early to be feeling anything definitive at all, too early for any throwing up to occur, or strange "well now, this is different" type of symptoms.
I have one friend who, with both of her pregnancies, knew she was pregnant before she took a test because she couldn't stomach drinking water. It would make her sick. Can't I have a moment like that? My cousin said that with our Godson, she felt like she was going to get the biggest period of her life, but never did --- she was really pregnant. Will that be what I feel like? My mom, when pregnant with me, didn't know she was pregnant until she was nearly through her first trimester --- she and my dad had been trying for 7 yrs and her crazy cycles, the multiple miscarriages and the full term stillborn kept her from believing anything wonderful would ever happen. But it did. I happened. --- but she didn't feel any different, she says she felt absolutely nothing that would indicate she was pregnant.
I know there is no real answer for me, no golden sign that is going to drop out of the sky and land in my lap to ease my uncertain feelings until this wait is over. But, I keep hoping and praying for an unambiguous sign --- something that just screams "you're pregnant and there's nothing else this could be." Problem is, there is no such thing, accept for a positive pregnancy test or beta, neither of which I can take yet because it's too early.
What if it's negative again? What if our perfect golden egg didn't mix with the stellar sperm and it's another failure? The heartache is always too much to bear, and yet, we've faced it over and over and over again.
I'm so afraid.
I have one friend who, with both of her pregnancies, knew she was pregnant before she took a test because she couldn't stomach drinking water. It would make her sick. Can't I have a moment like that? My cousin said that with our Godson, she felt like she was going to get the biggest period of her life, but never did --- she was really pregnant. Will that be what I feel like? My mom, when pregnant with me, didn't know she was pregnant until she was nearly through her first trimester --- she and my dad had been trying for 7 yrs and her crazy cycles, the multiple miscarriages and the full term stillborn kept her from believing anything wonderful would ever happen. But it did. I happened. --- but she didn't feel any different, she says she felt absolutely nothing that would indicate she was pregnant.
I know there is no real answer for me, no golden sign that is going to drop out of the sky and land in my lap to ease my uncertain feelings until this wait is over. But, I keep hoping and praying for an unambiguous sign --- something that just screams "you're pregnant and there's nothing else this could be." Problem is, there is no such thing, accept for a positive pregnancy test or beta, neither of which I can take yet because it's too early.
What if it's negative again? What if our perfect golden egg didn't mix with the stellar sperm and it's another failure? The heartache is always too much to bear, and yet, we've faced it over and over and over again.
I'm so afraid.
Thursday, September 8, 2011
Guest Post for Hannah Wept, Sarah Laughed
Hey all!
Just wanted to encourage you to head on over to Hannah Wept, Sarah Laughed today to read my story about living with PCOS as a "skinny cyster" and dispelling the "only women over 30 struggle with infertility" myth. I'm today's guest blogger and it's such an honor!
Thank you to Keiko for giving me this awesome opportunity to share my story during her Voices of PCOS week on her blog to bring awareness to the syndrome as September is PCOS awareness month. While you're there, check out the other Voices - we all have PCOS but the way we chose to treat it differs, as does the appearance of the syndrome in each of us.
Happy Thursday and thanks for reading!
Just wanted to encourage you to head on over to Hannah Wept, Sarah Laughed today to read my story about living with PCOS as a "skinny cyster" and dispelling the "only women over 30 struggle with infertility" myth. I'm today's guest blogger and it's such an honor!
Thank you to Keiko for giving me this awesome opportunity to share my story during her Voices of PCOS week on her blog to bring awareness to the syndrome as September is PCOS awareness month. While you're there, check out the other Voices - we all have PCOS but the way we chose to treat it differs, as does the appearance of the syndrome in each of us.
Happy Thursday and thanks for reading!
Tuesday, September 6, 2011
Patience is not my best virtue
Ah yes, it is upon me. The dreaded, and I mean DREADED, two week wait. The time between IUI/ovulation and the appearance of the pink...or this time, hopefully, the +. You know the drill - you start paying extra close attention to your body, every twinge, every detail. Anything and everything can be a symptom, a sign. In short, you drive yourself mad. 1 dpo. 2 dpo. 3 dpo. Tick tock, tick tock. You want the wait to be over, but at the same time, you also realize that once the wait is over, you'll be either ecstatic, or crushed. Again.
My conundrum? I don't know what to think this time around. I know, deep down, that it doesn't do me any good to be negative. But experience has also shown, most unfortunately, that it hasn't done me any good to be positive, either. In the past, my attempts at optimism have always lead to heartbreak, disappointment, anger, guilt, and the overwhelming sense of failure. So what's a girl to do?
I don't want to spend the next 13 days operating under the assumption that it's not going to work. That it will be another failed round. Who wants to think that way? But, I've done my research and I know it takes most couples more than one attempt at IUI to reach success, as it only brings our chances up to a "normal" couple's shot of 25%. Contrary to that, in my heart, I know we gave it our all. I produced a lovely egg. Jason submitted a top-notch sperm sample. I received a trigger shot to pretty much guarantee ovulation. We did our business in the evening after IUI and the following morning, as instructed. I've been resting and taking my pre-natals, following the fertility diet, and staying hydrated. We've done all we can do. And yet...
...was it enough? Will it ever be enough? 13 more days...tick tock, tick tock...
My conundrum? I don't know what to think this time around. I know, deep down, that it doesn't do me any good to be negative. But experience has also shown, most unfortunately, that it hasn't done me any good to be positive, either. In the past, my attempts at optimism have always lead to heartbreak, disappointment, anger, guilt, and the overwhelming sense of failure. So what's a girl to do?
I don't want to spend the next 13 days operating under the assumption that it's not going to work. That it will be another failed round. Who wants to think that way? But, I've done my research and I know it takes most couples more than one attempt at IUI to reach success, as it only brings our chances up to a "normal" couple's shot of 25%. Contrary to that, in my heart, I know we gave it our all. I produced a lovely egg. Jason submitted a top-notch sperm sample. I received a trigger shot to pretty much guarantee ovulation. We did our business in the evening after IUI and the following morning, as instructed. I've been resting and taking my pre-natals, following the fertility diet, and staying hydrated. We've done all we can do. And yet...
...was it enough? Will it ever be enough? 13 more days...tick tock, tick tock...
Saturday, September 3, 2011
Our golden egg, pt 2: super sperm
The IUI went really well today - we arrived at the clinic at 7:30am, dropped off Jason's sample for washing {which is a process that gets rid of any "dead weight" sperm and any extra "debris" that isn't needed, and leaves the best of the best for the IUI}, and headed back home to eat a quick breakfast before driving back to the clinic again at 8:30am. The IUI itself was pretty painless. I had some twinges and slight cramping as he was inserting the catheter full of washed sperm, but all in all, smooth and easy. Next step: progesterone blood test on Friday to make sure I ovulated... The doctor said my cervical mucus {sorry, this is all probably a lot of TMI} looked great as well, so he really wasn't concerned, but it's important to make sure.
The doctor was really encouraged by how things looked today. In addition to our one golden egg and my plush uterine lining, he said Jason's sample was the best he's seen in a long time {super big pat on the back for the hubs!}: 102 million spm {sperm per milliliter - normal is anything over 15/20 million spm}, 96% motility and the sperm were already activated, which basically means they were ready to rock n' roll instead of reaching activation at a later stage. Awesome!! We just have to hope that those little guys find their way to their eggy friend, and when they do, that she's not too stubborn...ie impenetrable.
Now what? The dreaded 2ww. I can take a home pregnancy test in 16 days but no sooner due to the hcg shot, which would give me a false positive. Is it weird that I'm tempted just so I can see a + on the test for a change?? Nah, I couldn't do that - I definitely want the first + I see to be a legitimate one.
Please say a prayer or send a positive thought out in to the universe on our behalf! We appreciate all of the support!
The doctor was really encouraged by how things looked today. In addition to our one golden egg and my plush uterine lining, he said Jason's sample was the best he's seen in a long time {super big pat on the back for the hubs!}: 102 million spm {sperm per milliliter - normal is anything over 15/20 million spm}, 96% motility and the sperm were already activated, which basically means they were ready to rock n' roll instead of reaching activation at a later stage. Awesome!! We just have to hope that those little guys find their way to their eggy friend, and when they do, that she's not too stubborn...ie impenetrable.
Now what? The dreaded 2ww. I can take a home pregnancy test in 16 days but no sooner due to the hcg shot, which would give me a false positive. Is it weird that I'm tempted just so I can see a + on the test for a change?? Nah, I couldn't do that - I definitely want the first + I see to be a legitimate one.
Please say a prayer or send a positive thought out in to the universe on our behalf! We appreciate all of the support!
Friday, September 2, 2011
Our golden egg
At long last, I have positive news to report: during my ultrasound this morning, we saw one golden, beautiful egg!! When he put the probe in, it appeared on the screen in all it's round, bulbous glory and the doc said, "Hey hey! There we go, good job letrozole!" Today is only CD13 and it's already measuring 21mm - woot!! It will continue to grow a bit today before ovulation, so by the time I actually ovulate, it will probably be a 22-23mm. In addition, my lining is nice and plush at an 8. I got my trigger shot before we left so the IUI is scheduled for tomorrow morning!! :D
As they say, this isn't our first rodeo, so we're not naive enough to believe that this is IT but it sure feels nice to 1) have a viable egg that will for SURE release {thank you 1000mg of HCG}, 2) know that my uterine lining is ready for a potential implantation, and 3) know that my body responded to the higher dose of the Femara. For the first time in months, we have renewed hope and it feels so good. :)
So today, we take it easy. Check-in tomorrow is at 7:30am, hubby's "sample" in tow, and then it will take approximately an hour and a half to process his sperm. Then it's IUI time! And tomorrow, you can bet your bip I'll be relaxing, feet up, getting my ommm on.
**Side note - as we were checking out and paying at the front, I told our favorite front desk guy {note sarcasm} that I was coming back tomorrow morning, to which he replied, "Oh, are we even open tomorrow?" .... um, well, I just had an injection in my a** to release my stellar egg in less than 24hrs so yep, you're going to be open tomorrow. Does he even know what goes on in that office?? Yeesh. And yes, this is the same guy who told me I wouldn't be missing out on anything if my appointment was moved...oh yea, nothing much, just a freaking VIABLE EGG!!**
In addition to feeling encouraged, we also discovered that we like the doc we saw today. He's younger and seems more...us. We still plan on going to the consult at the clinic in Riverside in a few weeks, but if I feel good about our IUI tomorrow, we may stay another month and just switch doctors. We shall see... FINGERS CROSSED that this month is our month!!
Lastly, but certainly not least, Jason's brother and his wife welcomed their first child yesterday, a beautiful, healthy baby girl. Little Maggie is simply adorable and we're excited to have a niece. We will meet her in October. Surprisingly, I was actually ok yesterday - no tears, and I felt real, honest-to-goodness joy at the news of her birth. I cried when we found out they were expecting, as they got pregnant very easily after just one month of trying. It was hard, all of it. But yesterday, yesterday we celebrated the arrival of new life, of new beginnings. After the horrible few months my family has had, it's a very welcome ray of sunshine. I can't guarantee that I won't cry when I hold her or see her in Jason's arms, that I won't feel envious, but I know I will love her, because I already do. And someday, it will be our turn. Hopefully sooner rather than later.
As they say, this isn't our first rodeo, so we're not naive enough to believe that this is IT but it sure feels nice to 1) have a viable egg that will for SURE release {thank you 1000mg of HCG}, 2) know that my uterine lining is ready for a potential implantation, and 3) know that my body responded to the higher dose of the Femara. For the first time in months, we have renewed hope and it feels so good. :)
So today, we take it easy. Check-in tomorrow is at 7:30am, hubby's "sample" in tow, and then it will take approximately an hour and a half to process his sperm. Then it's IUI time! And tomorrow, you can bet your bip I'll be relaxing, feet up, getting my ommm on.
**Side note - as we were checking out and paying at the front, I told our favorite front desk guy {note sarcasm} that I was coming back tomorrow morning, to which he replied, "Oh, are we even open tomorrow?" .... um, well, I just had an injection in my a** to release my stellar egg in less than 24hrs so yep, you're going to be open tomorrow. Does he even know what goes on in that office?? Yeesh. And yes, this is the same guy who told me I wouldn't be missing out on anything if my appointment was moved...oh yea, nothing much, just a freaking VIABLE EGG!!**
In addition to feeling encouraged, we also discovered that we like the doc we saw today. He's younger and seems more...us. We still plan on going to the consult at the clinic in Riverside in a few weeks, but if I feel good about our IUI tomorrow, we may stay another month and just switch doctors. We shall see... FINGERS CROSSED that this month is our month!!
Lastly, but certainly not least, Jason's brother and his wife welcomed their first child yesterday, a beautiful, healthy baby girl. Little Maggie is simply adorable and we're excited to have a niece. We will meet her in October. Surprisingly, I was actually ok yesterday - no tears, and I felt real, honest-to-goodness joy at the news of her birth. I cried when we found out they were expecting, as they got pregnant very easily after just one month of trying. It was hard, all of it. But yesterday, yesterday we celebrated the arrival of new life, of new beginnings. After the horrible few months my family has had, it's a very welcome ray of sunshine. I can't guarantee that I won't cry when I hold her or see her in Jason's arms, that I won't feel envious, but I know I will love her, because I already do. And someday, it will be our turn. Hopefully sooner rather than later.
Wednesday, August 31, 2011
Enough is enough
After this current cycle, we are done with our infertility clinic and will be either going back to our previous clinic or finding another one close by to go to instead. I have had issues with them for the past few months and today's incident was the icing on the cake.
I blogged about my random bleeding in a prior post, but for those who didn't read it, I started bleeding on the last day of my meds. It felt like a full-blown period but I had no idea why it was happening and since it started on Saturday, I couldn't get a hold of anyone until Monday morning. Joy. I learned that apparently, when you skip from CD14 to CD3 {essentially skipping your real period, along with the last few weeks of your cycle} there is the rare possibility of bleeding...rare or not, it would have been nice to know before sending me on my way with an increased dose of my meds...
But I digress.
So the phone rang this afternoon and when I saw the clinic's number, I thought, "Oh, they must be checking to see how the bleeding is going, how nice of them." But it's not a nurse, it's the front desk guy. And he proceeds to tell me that they need to reschedule my appointment for Friday because my doctor is going to be out of town. You know, the appointment in which I find out if I have any follicles growing. I tell him that I am on track for an IUI, and I don't really have much wiggle room in terms of time. He says, "Let me look at the schedule and see when we can fit you in." {long pause...} "Looks like the next time the doctor can see you is Sept. 12." Ummmm, WHAT?! That would be CD26, and I would definitely not be able to have my IUI. I politely tell him that that is not an option, that I would be missing out on my chances for an IUI, that my cycle would be nearing an end. To which he replied, "Well, I don't know what to tell you, the doctor isn't available until then, and it doesn't look like you're coming in for anything important anyway." I lost it. "Actually, I'm coming in for an ultrasound. And let me get this straight. You're telling me that I was told, by the doctor, that we were skipping from CD14 to CD3, and I would be taking an increased dosage of my medication, which I paid for and took, coming back in on CD13 to be checked for follicle growth, all in preparation for an IUI, and now it seems as though I won't be able to do an IUI because of a scheduling problem on your end? A nurse at your clinic ordered a trigger shot for me, which I paid for and you have in your office fridge, and the clinic isn't going to be able to see my cycle through? Two days before my appointment? Because the doctor is suddenly going to be out of town? That is utterly unacceptable and completely unprofessional. I want to talk to someone else about this. This is NO way to run an infertility clinic. I can't push pause and wait until the doctor is "available" to see me. That's not how it works. You don't put someone on medication and then half way through a cycle, tell them their appointment needs to be moved and there's nothing you can do about it." He then says, with a sigh, mind you, "Well, maybe I can put you on the schedule for Monday, but you'll be double booked with another patient, and the doctor doesn't like doing that." Am I supposed to feel guilty or something?? NO way. I replied, "That will be too late. Monday is CD16. I may have already ovulated by that point, and then my appointment would be worthless. I would be risking our chances, after all of my preparation." Ready for this? He says, "I don't think you'd be missing out on anything, but I'll go check with a nurse." Yea buddy, you go right ahead and effing check with a nurse. He returns and says, "Ok, we can see you on Friday morning an hour earlier, but you'll be seeing another doctor." Like I freaking care who I see?! That should have been their FIRST option! GRRRRRRR.
So, after this, I'm done, and we're writing a letter to the clinic detailing why we're leaving, and a copy will be sent to the administrator of the hospital. It may be "just a job" to them, but this is our life, and it would be awesome if they at least pretended that we were important. We pay out of pocket, so we're spending money we don't have to be treated like crap. Nope. Not anymore. I am just so frustrated with the whole thing, all of it. Our situation sucks enough as it is without dealing with their garbage. I know switching clinics is the right thing to do, but it would mean starting over. Again. More consults = more time and more money. We have 9 more months here before we move out of state, and really, only a few more months of money left to spend on this journey this time around. I am so upset, but what else can we do? I refuse to continue seeing a doctor at a clinic who doesn't give a damn.
**UPDATE**
We have an appointment for a consult at a new clinic in Riverside on Tuesday, Sept. 14. They are a low-cost IVF center and I am so far really impressed by their testimonials, their professional yet soft and charming website, and their pricing. They have risk-reducing refund plans as well as multi-IVF package plans should we decide to go that route before moving out of state. Hoping this place is THE one for us! Well actually, I'm hoping that tomorrow's ultrasound shows follicle growth and that our IUI is successful so we don't have to go to another clinic!! :)
**UPDATE**
We have an appointment for a consult at a new clinic in Riverside on Tuesday, Sept. 14. They are a low-cost IVF center and I am so far really impressed by their testimonials, their professional yet soft and charming website, and their pricing. They have risk-reducing refund plans as well as multi-IVF package plans should we decide to go that route before moving out of state. Hoping this place is THE one for us! Well actually, I'm hoping that tomorrow's ultrasound shows follicle growth and that our IUI is successful so we don't have to go to another clinic!! :)
Sunday, August 28, 2011
Baby Fever
Remember when you first got married, or even before, but you were serious enough to start picturing what your children would look like with your steady somebody? Will they have my eyes? His smile? My laugh? His skin tone? My curly hair? His sense of humor? My love for reading? His love of music? And remember how it felt, to envision that magical "someday" of baby making? I've discovered I'm envious of those still blessed with experiencing and enjoying that feeling: the butterflies-in-the-stomach feeling of the actual possibility of starting a family, when two turns into three, then maybe four, then who knows? Maybe more.
On pinterest, so many of my friends have pin boards for future babies: nurseries, baby clothes, baby and kid birthday party ideas, baby food, kid's crafts, etc etc etc... Some of these friends are married, some are not, but you can just feel the excitement, the anticipation, the longing with these boards. Already, the baby fever has hit and I'm envious because I'd had baby fever since I was 19, once I knew for sure that Jason and I were in it for the long haul so, what, like 8 years? Then it heightened when we got engaged, then it went in to overdrive once we got married. And yet... For us, it remains a dream, but it sometimes seems unattainable, impossible. For those just starting out, anything's possible; it's all so new and fresh and, yes, even fun. Fun. Remember when dreaming about having a baby was fun? Not painful, not like dangling a carrot in front of a beaten down, starving horse. Fun. Joyous. A future full of potential.
On pinterest, so many of my friends have pin boards for future babies: nurseries, baby clothes, baby and kid birthday party ideas, baby food, kid's crafts, etc etc etc... Some of these friends are married, some are not, but you can just feel the excitement, the anticipation, the longing with these boards. Already, the baby fever has hit and I'm envious because I'd had baby fever since I was 19, once I knew for sure that Jason and I were in it for the long haul so, what, like 8 years? Then it heightened when we got engaged, then it went in to overdrive once we got married. And yet... For us, it remains a dream, but it sometimes seems unattainable, impossible. For those just starting out, anything's possible; it's all so new and fresh and, yes, even fun. Fun. Remember when dreaming about having a baby was fun? Not painful, not like dangling a carrot in front of a beaten down, starving horse. Fun. Joyous. A future full of potential.
Many of my friends will have babies when they're ready, without issue. Most of them won't know the pain we've been through these last few years, and I sincerely hope they do not. Unfortunately, it's statistically proven that a few of them will walk this path. I just wish I could feel that 'it' feeling again, before I was jaded, before I knew what real heartache was, before our dream was crushed month after month after month. That youthful optimism untouched by experience and chronic disappointment.
Maybe baby? Maybe someday, but then again, honestly, maybe not.
Saturday, August 27, 2011
There will be blood...apparently
I'm bleeding. It's the last night of my 5mg of Femara on my fake cycle and I'm bleeding, cramps and all. It's mostly dark brownish blood, but some of it is brighter. If we were counting this as my real cycle, the one that ended on Tuesday, today would be CD18. Too early for a period. And if you count this as the fake cycle, the one that started on Tuesday, today is only CD7, waayy too early for a period. Either way you look at it, I really "shouldn't be" bleeding.
HUH?!?
I'm concerned and confused. Is this what they call breakthrough bleeding? Is my body just confused about skipping a period, making CD14 magically become CD3? Am I shedding the uterine lining that would have accompanied the real cycle? Of course, this happens on Saturday, when the clinic is not open unless by appointment. Of course.
So I took my last dose of the Femara tonight. I didn't know what else to do. I left a message with my clinic and maybe, by some miracle they'll get it tomorrow if they're in the office for appointments. Otherwise, I wait until Monday. It's not gushing, so that's a good thing, right?
I'm really afraid this cycle is just not meant to be. Has anyone heard of this happening?
Friday, August 26, 2011
New blog title
I don't like thinking of myself as infertile. Am I? Yes. But I don't have to see it in my blog title every time I log in. So it's time for a change.
I was dinking around on Pinterest the other day and I saw a tattoo that I really liked. It was a simple statement: with every heartbeat. For me, it has two meanings: With every heartbeat, I am thankful for this life, for every day I have been blessed with since surviving my open heart surgery. In addition, with every heartbeat I yearn for a child, for the promise of our dreams to one day become reality.
So {In}fertile Myrtle has been retired. A new title for a new way of thinking: IF does not define me. My blog address will remain the same, www.infertilemyrtleme.blogspot.com, it's too much trouble to change that, but I hope, With Every Heartbeat, that the next few months will bring positive change for us.
Tuesday, August 23, 2011
No growth = CD3
Yes, you read the title correctly. My eggs showed no growth {and in fact actually shrunk since my CD12 ultrasound...infuriating, let me tell you} so the Dr. suggested we don't wait for a period and pretend that today is CD3 instead of CD14 and take medication again today through "CD7". Since I didn't want this to be a lost month, I jumped on that option. The doctor said it's not common knowledge but there is actually more than 1 opportunity per month to grow eggs. "Normal" women don't need these other opportunities but women like me, PCOS women, do oftentimes benefit from these additional chances to grow eggs. He said it's like the ocean, like tides. A woman's hormones fluctuate up and down throughout the month and if you ride one of these fluctuations, it's possible to get results. He said he has had a lot of success with this method. He also increased my Femara dosage to 5mg {up from 3.75mg}. I had suspected that my body was no longer responsive to my current dosage and voiced my concern before we started this whole process 2 weeks ago, but the nurse said that since I had ovulated 3x on the med dosage I was on, it was best to stay on it. Looks like someone knows her body better than the professionals do...just sayin'.
I woke up and today was CD14. This same day has become CD3. Weird. I will take my 5mg of Femara tonight through CD7. I have an ultrasound on CD13, which is Friday, Sept. 2. I am a mix between angry, frustrated, defeated, and afraid. I'm angry at my body for being so stubborn, and frustrated that although I'm a healthy weight, I take my vitamins every day, I'm following my fertility diet, etc etc etc I still can't seem to get the basics to happen. Production of a viable egg is BASIC. I feel broken and defeated, and I am so fearful that my body will continue to be unresponsive to oral meds and the big guns will have to be called in. Please continue to keep us in your thoughts and prayers. I don't want to give up: on myself; on our dream of becoming parents; on hope.
Please help us keep our hope alive.
Sunday, August 21, 2011
Follicle check report
Well, the report isn't exactly negative but I was hoping for something a bit more solid. I have 3 eggs that are vying for viability, and lot more that are never going to get there. Two eggs are 12mm and one is 13mm. For CD12, that is a bit small, but the Dr. has hope that by Tuesday, they will reach {or be closer to} viable size, which for those of you who don't know, is 17-22mm. When I was tracking ovulation, I would typically get a +OPK on CD15, indicating that I was going to ovulate within the next 24 hours. Following that pattern, it means I have a few more days for these little eggies to grow before ovulation time. Since I am taking the HCG shot, ovulation is guaranteed but I was hoping for more than just one viable egg...and there is still a chance that none of the eggs will reach maturity, which would be a very disappointing turn for this cycle.
So back to the doctor I go for another ultrasound on Tuesday morning, CD14. If they haven't grown, this cycle is done. However, they should grow 2-3mm a day, so by Tuesday, we're hoping for the 13mm egg to be 17+mm and it would be super nice if the 12mm eggs were also near that size. The Dr. said that with PCOS patients, it's always best to have more than one egg release, because PCOS eggs aren't always the best quality. I asked if it's possible to ovulate and release an immature egg and he said with PCOS that is actually a major problem...and quite possibly what is happening to me each month. :( Now that I'm getting ultrasounds, it'll be easier to track if that's the issue, but then what?? IVF most likely. Again, he said that many women with PCOS go the IVF route because 1) their eggs are tougher to penetrate, 2) ovulation issues are prevalent, and 3) egg maturity/medication response issues. But, not to get ahead of myself, we have 4 IUI's to go before we reach the end of our rope.
So why do I already feel defeated??
Saturday, August 20, 2011
IUI #1, round 2: follicle check tomorrow
This will actually be our 3rd IUI but the first with the new doctor and our last two were in 2009, which is why I'm saying this is round 2.
My follicle check is tomorrow morning at 8am. I am so nervous that my little eggs are not growing. The reason I am fearful of this possibility is because when I first took Femara {my current med} in 2009, the cycle started out promising with 5 potential egg contenders. But then, when I went in for my final check a few days before my IUI, the ultrasound showed that none of the 5 eggs had gotten any bigger and my IUI was cancelled. I didn't remember this little tidbit until going back and re-reading my blog entries from that time period --- since I found out I needed open heart surgery a few weeks after that, I think I kind of forgot the other non-essential details and it all blurred together. Anywho, I'm really nervous that it's going to be that way again. Granted, I have ovulated 5 out of the last 6 months, but maybe my eggs aren't mature enough when they release and that is why we're not getting pregnant. See, queen of the What If game.
We'll see what the ultrasound shows tomorrow. I've felt twinges in my ovaries and have been silently cheering on my little eggies to grow, baby, grow! I'm hopeful for at least 2 viable eggs - one would be ok, but more would give us better odds. Thanks in advance for your prayers and positive thoughts!
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