It Took One Comment

Yesterday morning as we were getting ready for work, the hubs looked over at me and said, “You don’t seem as sick as you have been lately.” And he’s right. Suddenly, yesterday I started feeling so much better! Very little nausea, not as tired, the brain was clicking a little better, and I was in a better mood. I thought for a second, and I said, ”Well, it’s one of a few things. I stopped the estrogen pills and patches on Tuesday per the doc’s instructions. And I decreased the progesterone to every other day. And sometimes nausea subsides after awhile. Or it’s because the baby is dead.” He shushed me, and we went on with our days. But I keep thinking about it…

Last night when the hubs came home from work, he checked the mail and I already had picked it up. Then he came inside to see his wife cooking dinner – with real ingredients like raw chicken, onions and everything. Usually he comes home to napping wife, and I haven’t picked up the mail in a long while. And the only times I’ve “made dinner” in the last month or so, I’ve made grilled cheese or soup or PB&J sandwiches or something. He was very surprised, and quickly asked when my next doctor’s visit was – it’s on Tuesday.

I keep telling myself everything is ok – the ultrasound on Tuesday was perfect – measured perfectly, baby waved at us, everything looked well. I’m sure it’s just the change in meds or something that is causing me to feel better, but there’s a part of me that wonders. It’s so nice to feel good, but I’m so afraid of what it could mean…

There’s a Person in There!

I had another ultrasound visit with the RE yesterday, and the hubs was finally able to go with me. At 9 weeks, 2 days, we got to see the baby, and it’s starting to look like an actual human! It’s so hard to tell up until this point what is what, but when he pointed out the head, and the arms, and the legs, it was so easy to see my little baby. The baby was waving at us a little, and it just about broke my heart. Aside from the sickness, I can’t physically tell that there’s something inside of me growing, but there is – an honest to goodness, live baby! Amazing.

The doc told me that I’m supposed to start decreasing my meds. Completely cut out the estrogen pills and patches, and do the progesterone in oil shots every other day instead of every day. This will go for a week, and then no more progesterone. This scares me a bit, as it seems like most people go off of meds at around 10 weeks, but I’m going to trust the doc. He says my placenta should be able to take over now, so that’s what it is – I have to accept this.

I’m hoping that these kind of visits will help me get more positive. I really need to work on my attitude over the next few weeks. I can’t feel this petrified when I finally come out to everyone at work. Because it will come across as grumpy or negative or something, and that’s not really appropriate at work. So I need to figure out some ways to be more positive. I shopped online for some maternity clothes today, got about five things in my cart, looked at them, and then quickly logged off so I wouldn’t buy anything – don’t want to jinx anything! Then later I shopped for baby stuff – oh no, that’s not going to happen any time soon. The hubs sent me a picture of a beautiful rocking chair. I said it was nice, but we shouldn’t buy it soon. I know he’s finally getting excited, I think the ultrasound helped, and I wish I could too. I think I need to keep thinking about it, and try to get myself more used to the idea, and maybe it will be better. But it’s hard, it’s very hard!!!

The hubs looked online and informed me the Chinese gender predictor thing said we’re having a boy. But he dreamed we are having a girl. So now he’s convinced it’s a girl… OK, even I have to admit – he’s pretty cute like this.

Hating myself

The hubs was gone all weekend – he went to Denver on Thursday and came back last night. Which meant I was home alone. Which I usually love. Of course I love hanging out with the hubs, and would prefer for him to be there, but I like being alone every once in awhile. But not this weekend. It was generally ok, I made it through the weekend fine, I kept myself pretty busy and took care of some stuff. But I didn’t realize how much I was feeling needy, and wanted the hubs to be home until he got home.

I think it started when he got home and started complaining about something immediately. And then I think I asked him to do a few things – gosh, I can’t even remember what I asked him to do. But at one point, he barked at me, “OK, let’s start making a list. How many things can you ask me to do in one night? You’re so bossy!” Then my feelings got hurt, then he continued to say slightly negative things – not really bad, but nothing nice. I think I just wanted him to come home, act excited to see me, and want to spend the evening cuddling, or doing nice things for me, or something. I hate when I get like this. It’s like the inner child comes out and throws a huge temper tantrum. Which is what I ended up doing – the evening ended with me crying in bed, and the hubs saying I’m out of control. I don’t even know how that happened, I just wanted things to get better, and they were spiraling out of control. Finally I was able to say through my tears, “I feel so alone. I spent all weekend, feeling scared, and feeling sick. And thinking of you in Denver with our friends having a good time. And how I couldn’t be there.” Finally he softened up and held me for awhile, which I guess is all I really wanted.

I hate how vulnerable I feel. I hate that I’m so needy. And I hate that I’m acting like such a child – who is this woman? I used to be so independent, and I’ve turned into this sniveling baby who cried when her husband goes away! I hate this side of me! I definitely didn’t do what my therapist tells me to do: stay in my adult!

The other thing that really bothered me last night is he told me about a conversation he had with his best friend (K) and K’s wife (J). J and I are pretty good friends, but we don’t really talk on our own. When the four of us get together, we have a great time, but J and I have never hung out or talked on our own without our husbands. We all vacationed together in Europe in September, so we got to know each other even more, but we haven’t really talked outside of our husbands since. We spent quite a bit of time in Europe talking about trying to get pregnant – I was trying to get over my miscarriage, she was on her last round of birth control pills before starting to get pregnant, and she’s a nurse, so she’s fascinated by all things medical. I saw her in November, and I knew that her first cycle after BCP didn’t go well, but she seemed positive and upbeat, hoping everything would be fine.

I asked the hubs how they were doing, and asked if they were pregnant yet. And he said, “no, and don’t bring it up when they’re here.” They’re coming to stay with us for a long weekend in May. The hubs and K and J had a long conversation about it late Saturday night, her cycles are really long to the point where she is wondering if she’s ovulating, her doc has recommended Clomid, but they both think her cycle will figure itself out – that maybe her body isn’t over being on BCP yet (she went off of them in September!). But J doesn’t feel like she’s ready for meds. The hubs suggested that K go get a semen analysis done, just in case, as it’s a good step prior to meds and completely non-invasive. So proud of him for suggesting that, as it was a bit of a struggle for him to get it done the first time! But he said that J started crying, and is upset that it’s not going well, and she sees her friends having troubles (like the hubs and me) and she worries that it will be the same for her. And that all I talked about while we were in Europe was TTC – either the miscarriage or my future plans for me, or talking about starting to TTC for her, and she doesn’t want it to take over her life like it did for me…

First, I feel so bad for J and K, especially J. I want to help her, and call her and offer support, and all that. I know how stressful the worrying that there is something wrong can be. But now I don’t feel like I can do that. The hubs thinks I should just ignore it because J thinks that is all I can talk about or think about. And you know what? J is right. It is all I can think about. I have spent the last two years obsessing about it – every single day. And now that I’m pregnant, I’m worse. All I can think about is whether this baby will live. I’ve always hated those women – those moms that don’t have anything to talk about but their kids, or those pregnant women who don’t have anything to talk about but their pregnancy. I didn’t realize I became the kind of woman I hate a long time ago, and it’s only getting worse.

I feel so bad that this is who I am. But it is. My parents or friends ask, “how are you?” And I respond, “I’m good – I’m still pregnant.” As if that is the only thing in my life. But it is – that’s how I feel. And from feeling awful for my friend J but not knowing how to help, to getting upset with the hubs because he dares to leave me and have fun while I sit at home and worry about our baby, this is my life. And I don’t know how to change it.

Uncharted Territory

I just got back from my first regular OB appointment, and the baby is still alive. It’s measuring at 8 weeks 3 days, even though today is 8 weeks 2 days. And the heartbeat is great – 157 bpm. I’ve never had a baby this big in my belly. So today, officially, I’m further along than I ever have been. And that makes me very happy.

The appointment went well – I love this doctor. I’ve seen him for about two years, I remember telling him we were trying. He’s the one who recommended my RE. He’s the one who did my D&C last June. And now he’s the one who will hopefully follow me through this pregnancy. He’s great – he’s all about the good bedside manner. He told me that once I stop the weekly RE visits, that I can call his nurse at any time, and they will get me in for an ultrasound, just to cure my anxiety. I talked with him about getting a Doppler, and he said that it’s fine – after about 20 weeks. Until then he even has a hard time finding the heartbeat on a Doppler sometimes, so he doesn’t recommend it to his patients. But by 20 weeks, I should be able to feel the baby kick, so what’s the point? So I’m going to try to take his advice and hold off on purchasing one.

I spoke to the doc for awhile about Lovenox, and he said he has plenty of patients who use Lovenox successfully through their pregnancy. He wants to change a couple things for my pregnancy compared to a normal one: starting at around 28-29 weeks, I’ll start going in for weekly non-stress tests. He wants to monitor my blood flow, and make sure everything looks good. So the weekly appointments will start early. And the second thing is because I should be off Lovenox for 24-48 hours prior to delivery, he doesn’t like to wait until I go into labor. So he wants to induce me at around 38 weeks. So my due date is officially November 12 (really it should be November 13 but the baby is measuring a day big, but who cares?), but I’ll likely give birth in late October. I was hoping to go as long as possible, and I’ve heard bad things about the inducing process, but that’s ok. I just want to do whatever I can to have a healthy baby, and if it takes inducing, or shots throughout the pregnancy, or standing on my head for the next seven months, I’ll do it.

Believe me, I’m still nervous, but we have reached a new point. I have my NT scan on April 29, and hopefully everything will look good then. Perhaps after that point I’ll be able to relax a little. I hope so!

I Want to Move!

We went to bed last night at 10, and I fell asleep around 10:30, while the hubs stayed up watching TV. About 11:30 at night, I woke up because I could feel something crawling on my head. I reached up there, and it crawled over my fingers. I let loose a blood-curdling scream, and sat up. The hubs looked over at me, and by the light of the TV, he could see it crawling down my hair and onto my shirt. He screamed too, and then told me to get up, out of bed and take off my shirt. I immediately did, all the while screaming. I turned on the lights, and we couldn’t find it – we looked in my shirt on the floor, and there was nothing. Finally he started going through the bed, and there it was. Running across my lovely white sheets was a 3-fucking-inch cockroach! I ran to the kitchen to grab a roll of paper towels, but in the meantime the fucker was running fast to the bathroom so the hubs grabbed my shirt and grabbed the roach. He didn’t know what to do with it, so he just threw the shirt and the roach into the backyard and shut the door! He told me later I can go get my shirt, wash it and wear it again – yeah, I’m good – don’t need that shirt. It’s going in the trash, if I ever have the nerve to go get it. Getting to sleep again – in my bed! – trying to calm down – was miserable. We left the light on for a couple hours, making sure his buddies wouldn’t come back out, but I couldn’t sleep so I finally turned off the light.

I fucking hate cockroaches. I grew up in the lovely mountains of Colorado – it was too cold for those fuckers! (I usually don’t cuss this much, I apologize for my language, but I had a fucking cockroach crawling on my head last night! I think I’m allowed a few f-bombs.) When we moved to Texas, I knew that we would probably encounter some bugs, but a fucking cockroach on my head while sleeping??? When we saw the lovely lot of our house, and how it backed right up to the forest, and how even part of the forest is in our yard, which is so nice for our dogs, I thought it was great. I didn’t think about the fucking tree roaches that lived in the forest and would get in our house! We’ve lived in the house for over three years, and haven’t had huge problems – just a dead roach here or there occasionally. BUT – we have always had the house sprayed for bugs every three months. Just like all my neighbors and friends here in Texas, we have someone come to our house and spray pesticide all over our house – both inside and out.

I’ve recently done some research, and I don’t remember all the details (don’t really want to do more research – trying to stick my head in the sand a bit today), but as you can imagine, pesticides are not good – for you, for your children, for your unborn babies. The hubs and I had talked, and I told him I didn’t want the guy to come out anymore now that I’m pregnant, he said why not just spray the outside, and not the inside, and so we agreed - generally. The bug guy is scheduled to come out THIS WEEK! He’s such a good sales guy, he calls every three months, and comes out the next day. So I know he’s going to call me today or tomorrow. What am I going to tell him when he calls?

Last night after the big cockroach debacle, the hubs kept saying, you want to cut back on spraying? Seriously? I know it’s been three months since the last spraying, which happened inside as well, but we just went through winter when the activity is supposed to be low. Now that the temps are rising into the 80’s, and it’s going to be 90’s very soon, the problem is only going to get worse! I can’t fucking live with cockroaches in my bed! I looked online, and one of the suggestions was to get a gecko or two to live free-range in the house. I sent the suggestion to the hubs, and he just ignored me. I can’t imagine why he doesn’t want that! And that should be fun with my two dogs – they love to bark at lizards outside and try to kill them. That would be fun inside the house…

I don’t know what to do – I’m going to ask the bug guy about less toxic measures. And I’m trying to pretend that a fucking cockroach didn’t wake me up last night by wandering over my head! I know I should be as safe as possible with this baby, but there was a fucking cockroach on my head!!! And lots of people in Texas and in the south use pesticides all the time – right?

But the big thing is that the next time the hubs brings up moving back to Colorado, I may just have to say yes… Especially if another fucking 3-inch cockroach walks on me again!

It's Alive!

That's the text I sent my husband when I walked out of the ultrasound this morning: It's Alive! And yes, the baby inside me is still alive. It's measuring perfectly at 7 weeks 4 days, its heartbeat is 147 bpm, and the subchorionic hematoma has even shrunk! It's still there, but not near as big as it was before. All good news. They told me to make an appointment with my OB, and I'll keep going for weekly appointments, whether they are at the RE or my OB, until approximately 10 weeks. And they gave me a prescription for Zofran for the nausea. I don't plan on taking it unless the nausea is really bad, but I guess it will be good to have on hand.

I'm really trying to focus on the positive today. And be happy, and enjoy the moment. And I am. I really hope I get to have this baby. I'm becoming quite attached...

Preparing

I did something yesterday I told myself I shouldn’t do: I looked at the posts I wrote during early pregnancy last time, before the heartbeat stopped. I was looking for a sign, something to tell me that this pregnancy would be different. Because I’m scared. I go in for an ultrasound tomorrow, and I’m petrified that there won’t be a heartbeat. I’ll be at 7 weeks 4 days tomorrow, and I had an ultrasound during the last pregnancy at 7 weeks 5 days, and everything was fine. Well maybe – the baby was measuring four days behind, but they told me that was ok, maybe it wasn’t. But the heartbeat was good – it was 158 bpm. It wasn’t until next week’s ultrasound that the baby’s heart had stopped. We’re definitely in the same approximate time when my previous baby died – I really hope this doesn’t happen again. But the next few weeks are going to be tough – I always knew they would be.

The hubs’ great-uncle passed away, and so hubs went with his family to Iowa for the funeral – he’s one of the pallbearers. I would have gone too, but I won’t fly. I flew to a wedding during the weekend between my 7 week 5 day ultrasound and my 8 week 4 day ultrasound – when the baby was dead. I know that everyone says that flying is safe, but there’s no way you could get me on a plane right now. I don’t know if I’ll even fly during the 2nd trimester – if I get that far. The hubs was supposed to go with me to tomorrow’s ultrasound, but now I have to go by myself.

I already have it planned – if the ultrasound shows a dead baby. I go in before work tomorrow, and I won’t go to work if it’s dead – I’ll call my boss and tell him I’m not coming in on Thursday and Friday. Get a D&C, with karyotyping, done on Friday (the hubs will be back by then so he can drive me), and cry all weekend, go back to work on Monday. I know it’s absolutely crazy that I have planned this, but these are the thoughts that go through my head when it’s late at night and I can’t sleep, and I’m by myself. And strangely, it gives me some bit of comfort to have a plan. I was so overwhelmed by choices last time, now I know what I’ll do, I’ll make sure to have the karyotyping done. Last time the D&C was done by my regular OB, and he doesn’t do the testing, but I have confirmed that if I have a D&C done by my RE, he will do karyotyping. I know I should be thinking more positively, my mother would yell at me if she saw this paragraph, but this is what I’m thinking about. I’m trying to have a lot of hope, but also I’m very scared.

The other thing I noticed when looking at my blog from early pregnancy last time is I didn’t talk about symptoms much. It seems like this time I’m having a lot more symptoms than last time, but I wanted to write it down today so I can look back at this. Maybe I can use this for my second baby, right?

I’m having a lot of nausea, more than I remember from last time. It started pretty early in the pregnancy in the evenings, then it started in the morning, and then a few days ago it started to be all day, every day. Every kind of food looks and smells gross. I struggle finding anything to eat. I eat a lot of saltines, cereal, and peanut butter & honey sandwiches. I can’t stand chicken – beef is better. Fruits seem gross, as do vegetables, but I try to force some of this down. I’ve thrown up maybe 5 times – early morning or late at night. Most of the time I don’t throw up, just feel awful. Additionally, I’m exhausted – much more so than I remember from last time. Plus I have a hard time sleeping. I’ve found that the following works best: get up whenever I wake up from anxiety – today was 5:00am – shower, wrap head in towel, eat something like a breakfast bar or saltines, set alarm for as late as possible (7 today), get up, eat something, get ready, go to work, go home at lunch to take nap and eat a peanut butter sandwich, go back to work, go home, take a 30 minute nap, get up in time for the hubs to come home and not discover me sleeping, have dinner (usually cereal), in bed by 9, get up a few times to pee. Lovely day. Other symptoms? Boobs hurt – must wear a sports bra to bed. I think those are the main physical ones. I’m emotional, irritable, etc. as well.

Overall, I’m happy, just waiting. I’m waiting for either my baby to die, or to get to the 2nd trimester. I know that there can be all kinds of problems later, but I’m choosing to ignore those. I hope all the symptoms mean that everything will be ok. I really don’t mind having them – they’re a constant reminder that there’s a baby in there. I’m sorry that this post doesn’t seem very hopeful, I just wanted to write some things down that could help me later before I go in tomorrow for the ultrasound.

I need a better response

I have a friend at work who is one of the nicest people ever. We hang out quite a bit, even outside of work, but we’re not incredibly close. But we talk. We’re part of a trivia group, so we’ve been meeting every week at a bar for about three years, playing trivia and drinking beer. There have been times over the last three years that I wouldn’t drink, and she has been suspicious. So I told her awhile ago that we were trying to get pregnant. And I told her last June that I was pregnant. And I told her last June that I lost my baby. And I told her again sometime that we were doing treatments. She’s always been nice, and supportive, but I could tell she didn’t quite understand.

She asked me earlier this week why I haven’t been coming to trivia, but the hubs has still been going. I told her because it was in a bar that allowed smoking, and I’m too tired – I’m not interested in going right now. She asked if I was pregnant, and I said yes – I’m certainly not going to lie to a direct question. She said congratulations, and I told her it was early, and too early to get excited about it yet, but thank you.

I just ran into her at the coffee bar, as we were both getting smoothies. (With strawberries and bananas – just about my only source of fruit right now…) As the smoothie machine was loudly processing, she asked me how I was feeling, I told her not very good, but that’s ok, thanks for asking. And then she started talking about how much my life was going to change, and how I had no idea how much work kids are, blah blah blah. Before I knew it, things were coming out of my mouth like she had no idea how long I’ve been trying to have a baby, or how many babies I’ve lost, so I really hope my life is going to change. And I started tearing up. She looked at me with horror on her face. I mumbled sorry, I’m just a little nervous as it’s early and I don’t want to lose the baby. We both tried to recover, and went on our way.

I know she was meaning well, she’s really such a sweet woman, but I didn’t want to hear how difficult it was to have a child. I haven’t told many people yet, and most of the people I’ve told understand my fear because they’ve been by my side throughout the process, but what about when I tell the rest of the people? I have to come up with something better to say than “you have no idea about the babies I’ve lost and how long we’ve been trying to have a baby!”

Pain

I was watching Shameless with the hubs tonight. Have you seen this new Showtime show? It’s one of those guilty pleasure, complete trainwreck, I can’t believe they just did that, kind of shows. It’s about a family of six children, ranging in age from about two to about twenty, raising themselves because the dad, who is in and out of their lives, is a raging crazy alcoholic, and their mom left. The episode we watched tonight (recorded from last week I think) was living up to its trainwreck status. The dad won some lawsuit (he’s always suing someone – it’s a way to make money!) but needed his wife to be there as the co-plaintiff in order to receive the money. And so he tracked her down. Long story short, she showed up, came to the house with all the kids, and decided that she wanted to be in their lives again. Or more specifically, her lesbian girlfriend decided they wanted to take the baby, but not the rest of the kids, and the mom wanted to be a part of the rest of the kids’ lives as well. The older kids decided that their father, who is a complete wreck, was better than the mom because at least the dad stuck around.

I have to admit that I can be a crier while watching TV. Show me a sweet commercial or something slightly emotional on a show, and there will be a tear or two. The hubs loves to tease me about this – he can even tell when a show will cause me to cry. Normally it’s a little tear or two – that’s it. But as we’re watching this Shameless episode, I could feel the emotions build, to a point I couldn’t control. Suddenly I started crying uncontrollably, sobbing, couldn’t even breathe! I didn’t want to show my loss of control to the hubs, so I ran to the bathroom, and I ended up in a pile in the bathroom, sobbing for about twenty minutes. The hubs kept asking what was wrong, and I couldn’t speak. Finally I calmed down, and mumbled something about abandonment issues.

For those of you that don’t know me well, I was adopted when I was four, after many foster homes and homelessness. I’ve been seeing a therapist for awhile, and she talks to me often about my abandonment issues. But my reaction while watching Shameless was so much more than that.

I felt so bad for those kids in the show. They realized their mom left them, and then just wanted to come back in their lives and have everything be ok. That’s how I feel about my birth parents. Both of them would be in my lives, and act like they were my parents, if I would let them. But I can’t. Until the Shameless episode, I couldn’t really figure out why.

I was so angry at that mom on the show. She walked away from her children. She kept giving excuses, about not being able to handle it, and how crazy she was. But I don’t care – I was so angry! It didn’t make sense how angry and upset I got, and then I figured it out.

Sometime when I was crumbled in a ball on the floor in the bathroom, I realized – I’m so angry at my birth parents! They walked away from me! My whole life, when telling my adoption story, I told it like my adoptive parents told me - some cute little fairy tale about how my mom couldn't have children, and how my mom and dad fell in love with me when they saw me. I always glossed over the part about my birth parents abandoning me. But here I am, newly pregnant with a baby that I’ve worked so hard to get, and all I can think about is my birth parents walking away. Yes, they were drug addicts and alcoholics and homeless and my mother was bipolar, but they gave me up! I want to have a child so bad, I would give anything for a child, and they walked away from a four-year old girl – me.

So many people in my life have told me I should “just” adopt when I tell them about my infertility. It seems so natural, right? C’mon, I’m adopted myself! Besides all the normal responses, primarily because there’s no “just” about it, I’ve always had this gut reaction inside, something was screaming, “NO!” But I didn’t understand it. Now, during a silly trainwreck show, I figured it out.

I don’t think I can adopt because I’m so angry at those birth parents - all of the birth parents. I know I should be thinking about the adoptive parents who want those children, and the children who get better homes because of adoption (as I did!), but all I think about is those parents who walked away from those children. I have met so many wonderful adoptive mothers online, and I think it’s so wonderful that those ladies were able to complete your families through adoption, but when they say some things about the birth parents, it baffles me. They say, “The birth mother gave me such a gift.” And “Giving up her child took so much courage." And "How unselfish she must be to want her child in a better situation." And other wonderful things. But all I can think about is those mothers walking away from their babies. My therapist, who is infertile and adopted two babies, and sometimes works with birth mothers, say that many birth parents feel that they don’t have a choice. But they do – every person has a choice, in everything they do. I know there are situations when women truly don’t believe there is a choice – I can’t imagine raising a child if I was incredibly young, or it was a result of a rape, or something terrible like that. But when I became sexually active as a teenager, I decided that if I ever became pregnant, I would keep my baby, because for me, that was part of being responsibly sexually active.

I know I sound incredibly judgmental, and I apologize for this. I’m coming from a place of deep pain, and I hope you can understand this. These are the things that went through my head while sobbing, and I was so surprised at these strong emotions. I usually push these thoughts and feelings so far away. It took me so long to figure out why I have such a strong negative reaction when someone tells me I should adopt. And who knows if I will always feel this way. Perhaps with more therapy and working through these emotions, I could get to the place where I could adopt. But I don’t know how, as an infertile woman, I could walk up to a birth mother and not feel negative feelings about her. I know that by the time you’re having those conversations, you’re so motivated all you can think about is the child, and completing your family with that child. Maybe it would be easier if I wasn’t an adoptee. Maybe someday I would become motivated enough to only think about the child, I don’t know.

All I know is that right now, while I’m desperately trying to hold on to this little being inside me, I can’t imagine giving this little one up. And I can’t relate to or understand someone that would give up a baby, or a four-year old child.

Heartbeat!

We have a heartbeat! I went in this morning - jury duty ended earlier than planned - and saw my little baby’s heartbeat. I’m at 6 weeks, 3 days today, and the embryo measured right on target, and the heartbeat was 121 beats per minute, which is on target based on how far along I am. The blood work looked good too – the progesterone in oil increased my progesterone to over 20, so that’s good.

That was the good news – here is the bad: I have a subchorionic hematoma. Right alongside the gestational sac is this long black area, and the nurse said that is blood. She said it is very common, especially in IVF patients, and it may cause some spotting, but shouldn’t cause any problems. I looked online, and saw that it increases miscarriage rate by up to 5%. The nurse said I’m supposed to stay off my feet as much as possible, other than working, don’t exercise, no sex (although I’m still on the pelvic rest from the IVF procedure), drink lots of fluids, and perhaps expect spotting. Sometimes it resolves on its own, and sometimes it doesn’t.

I’m trying to not be too concerned, as I have heard of this happening in the blog world, but what does it mean? Am I going to be on these restrictions for a long time, like the whole pregnancy? I’ve been taking Lovenox for the MTHFR, and I noticed that sometimes doctors prescribe Lovenox to break up the clot of the hematoma, but I’m already taking it. I need to spend some time Googling to try to understand it a little, but again, I’m trying to not freak out too much, so I’ve generally been trying to stay away from the internet.

Yet another thing to worry about – I have a feeling this pregnancy will not be easy. But as long as I get to the end of it with a healthy baby, I can live through hell for the next 7 ½ months. We met a big milestone today – a heartbeat. I have another ultrasound next Thursday, so hopefully that one will go well too. The next few weeks are going to be hard. I feel like I’m on a familiar path – made it through the heartbeat, now I wait for the next step. Last pregnancy, the heart stopped beating at around 8 weeks, and I had an ultrasound at 8 ½ weeks when we discovered it. I keep telling myself that this is a different pregnancy, and it doesn’t have to be the same result. I’m taking aspirin, Folgard and Lovenox that I didn’t have before. This is a new pregnancy, and I really hope I get a baby out of it. I also hope this hematoma thing doesn’t turn into anything big. I guess I’m just hoping – a lot!

Jury Duty

I was supposed to go to the doctor this morning for an ultrasound to see my baby’s heartbeat. And instead, I’m going to court. Yesterday I reported to jury duty, and they selected me for a trial. Luckily, the trial only lasts three days, but I really wanted to see my baby today, and its little heart beating. Oh I hope its heart is beating…

Jury duty is kind of interesting. It’s a civil trial, so it doesn’t concern criminal acts, which is nice. The judge said that of the felony charges he sees, 70% of them related to child abuse – I can’t imagine being on that kind of trial. I’m learning a ton about Texas employment law, and we’re all fascinated to find out how much the plaintiff is asking for in damages! I have to admit – it’s kind of fun, and a good distraction. I’m trying to not think about the work I’m missing and will have to catch up on when I get back, but it’s a pretty slow time at work so not too bad. Oh, and I had to pledge allegiance not only to the United States flag, but also the Texas flag! Do other states do this? I’ve never seen that before…

I rescheduled the ultrasound for Thursday morning, as the lawyers said the trial should be over by then, and I have to assume the baby is ok. The morning and evening sickness seems to be getting worse, which is so comforting. First time in my life that I am happy to be sick! The hubs is giving me a hard time about food. We’ve been reading every night from The Pregnancy Journal (yes, I’m crossing out dates from my previous pregnancy – a little morbid…), and it keeps talking about getting this vitamin from these foods and that vitamin from those foods. All I eat for breakfast and dinner is cereal and saltines and ginger ale! I try to have a healthy lunch, but I still can’t stand to eat chicken, or fish, or sometimes beef. I’m certainly not getting all the range of fruits, vegetables and protein that the book suggests. And I've lost four pounds in the last two weeks. I'm overweight, so I assume it's fine, but still. I keep telling the hubs that I’m sure it’s fine – women all over have these kind of diets in their early pregnancy, but it still makes me nervous.

I have to go get ready for jury duty – hope all of you are doing well! I had some time to read blogs yesterday during the selection process, but I doubt I will have time today – they’re very strict on breaks and cell phone use!

Watching Drunk People

First, thank you so much to all of you who helped me get through the scariness earlier this week. I really appreciate it!!! I am doing better, primarily because there hasn’t been any spotting in the last couple days. Yes, I still have cramping, but it comes and goes, and I keep telling myself it’s normal. I have to assume that baby’s still in there and growing…

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Last night, we went out with some friends for St. Patty’s Day. Luckily we went to a Mexican restaurant – no real big celebration there, unlike our normal bar that we hang out in which is crazy on St. Patty’s Day! I had my club soda with lime juice, and watched all of them drink their margaritas. (Can I just tell you how disgusting tequila smells when it’s in everyone’s breath and you have super-sensitive smelling powers and a queasy belly?) It was an interesting group, and it whittled down to some core friends, at which time the drunk talking seriously began. We went home right before the “I love you, man” phase. It was the hubs and me, a couple friend of ours that went through infertility and loss along with their kids (seriously, who brings their 5 and 6 year old kids to the bar at 9:00 at night?), and another guy whose girlfriend is four months pregnant. These people are close to us, so they know all our IVF and loss history. Unfortunately, the worst part about telling people that you’re doing IVF and getting support through the process is they know when to ask if you’re pregnant. And so we have told all the close people in our lives – no hiding for us. But they all know about our losses, and they all know that we’re super nervous. It’s an interesting approach, one that I know a lot of people don’t agree with, but one that works for us.

As the evening – and drinks – progressed and it was just five of us plus the kids running around, it became absurd – and a little sweet and sad. The guy whose girlfriend is pregnant got hassled a ton. He has no plans to even live with the mom after the baby is born, or at least that’s what he says. She already has three kids (!!!) and now after he knocked her up, he doesn’t want to be a father to her other kids – like he’s surprised she has them. He told me, “I don’t mind raising my own kid, but why do I have to be involved with her other kids?” I almost hit him. I have a suspicion that he’s just acting like an ass to get a rise out of us, and will actually step up when it comes down to it, but who knows. But you should have seen my husband – he was giving the guy such a hard time, “Dude, this is your baby’s mother!” I loved it – look at my guy defending the single mom. I was so proud!

The woman who had IVF seven years ago for her first child is an expert on everything fertility, or so she thinks. For the last couple years, she has told me her opinion every step of the way. Which is helpful, but sometimes gets to be a bit much. Last night, she was asking about my hcg levels, and said that I’m definitely having twins. I told her that I had an ultrasound and there was only one sac and one yolk sac and one embryo. She said I was wrong – it could have been hiding. We went back and forth, and drunk girl would not give up. And so I did. Sigh…

But the best part of the night was when the dad of the kids started telling my husband and the guy with the pregnant girlfriend about how awful it is to live with a pregnant woman. “Oh you just wait. Once they get to about 5 or 6 months, they’re going to be bitching and moaning about everything! You would think that the whole world revolves around them!” And what does my husband say? “That’s OK, if we make it to 5 or 6 months, then we’ll be safe. She can complain all she wants. As long as we get to have the baby.” Heart melting…

Everything’s OK – for now

I don’t know why I have to use the “for now” part - I just do. I just got back from the doc, and they did an ultrasound and everything looks good. Today I’m 5 weeks 3 days, and the sac is measuring 5 weeks 4 days, and the baby is measuring 5 weeks 6 days. They couldn’t find the source of the bleeding, so they’re assuming it is from the progesterone, or the ultrasound yesterday, or something. And the cramping – it just happens. Like I thought, the recommendation is to wait and see. Bleh!

I wish this was easier. I know too much – I know what can go wrong. I know that every twinge, every drop of blood, could mean nothing, or it could mean the beginning of the end. I want to have a positive attitude, but it’s so hard when you have experienced hell. Just a few days ago, I had a really good attitude. It was weird – I convinced myself that this was it. I’ve been thinking a lot about things lately, and realized again that nothing ever comes easily to me. This is the theme of my life. I was homeless and bouncing between foster homes prior to the age of four, adopted by people that may or may not have been good parents (mom definitely should not have been a mother, although she’s trying), went into a deep depression when I tried to get pregnant in my twenties unsuccessfully, divorced my first husband, etc. Nothing has ever come easy. But eventually, I’ve always figured things out. I’ve always persevered, and made it through.

A few days ago, I told my therapist about all of this. And how I always knew that I would struggle having a baby. Even before I started trying in my previous marriage in my twenties, I had a feeling – a gut instinct, if you will – that it would be difficult. Of course I had no idea how difficult. My first husband and I tried to get pregnant for a year, and then due to that and a few other things such as a failing marriage, I sunk into a major depression. Like the kind of depression that lands you in a hospital for a few days. I eventually got better, got my life back in order including divorcing my husband, and was able to figure things out. I started dating my future husband, and when we started getting serious, I told him it was going to be hard getting pregnant. I don’t think he believed me… But I always knew – it was going to be hard. But the question is, how hard?

When we decided to go to get assistance with an RE in November 2009, it didn’t surprise me – this was going to be hard, of course we need a doctor! When I got pregnant with the ectopic with my first IUI with injectibles last February, it was over so quickly I didn’t really think about it as far as what it meant. When I got pregnant with my second IUI in May, and everything looked ok, it surprised me. By this time I was involved in this fabulous bloggy world, and I realized what “hard” looked like – multiple IVF’s, multiple losses, years of trying without success. So I felt lucky, and a little like I was cheating. Yes, I had resorted to IUI’s with injectibles, and I had an ectopic, but it still seemed pretty easy that I was pregnant. And when I lost my baby at 8 ½ weeks, it surprised me, and yet, it didn’t. Because things don’t come easy for me.

When I went through a third IUI cycle in September and it didn’t work, it didn’t surprise me. When I went through my first IVF cycle in December and it didn’t work, it didn’t surprise me. But then I wondered – had I been through enough? It feels like enough, but it hasn’t yet broken me. A few days ago, I was convinced that I had been through enough – I have paid my dues, it has officially been “hard”, so now, I’m pregnant and I think this will work. I really believed this – a few days ago. I even told my therapist that my gut instinct was that I was going to have a healthy baby at the end of my pregnancy.

Now, I’m not so sure. When I heard yesterday that my progesterone was low, I thought, “Of course.” When I woke up this morning and saw the pink on the toilet paper, I thought, “Of course.” Things don’t come easy for me. I wasn’t that surprised when I saw the ultrasound and nothing looked wrong – it seems like it hasn’t really been enough time for everything to fail since yesterday’s ultrasound. But what is next week’s ultrasound going to look like? It wouldn’t surprise me if there’s a heartbeat next week. But then what? I know from personal experience that a heartbeat doesn’t really mean anything – it just means you’re attached more when your baby’s heart stops beating later. What if after my baby’s heart start, it doesn’t stop? Will I ever be comfortable? I don’t know. I thought I beat it – this anxiety and fear. But no, I was just in a happy little lull. But that’s over. It’s official - I’m now a petrified pregnant after infertility and loss woman. Because once again, things are not going easy for me.

Spotting and Cramping

The title just about says it all, doesn’t it? I got up in the middle of the night from cramping – it’s like bad menstrual cramps. I was able to go back to sleep, assuring myself that it was just my uterus growing and such. Then this morning, after going to the bathroom, I wiped and there was the tiniest bit of pink. Then later I had a bowel movement, and there amongst the Crinone mess was a lot of pink. I have lots of the white Crinone gel mess up there, and we all know that red and white make pink…

I know that the lack of progesterone can cause some spotting. It hasn’t been a ton. But combined with the cramping and combined with the low progesterone yesterday, I’m scared. We successfully did the PIO shot last night (thanks for all your tips! Warming up the oil, combined with icing my butt, watching some videos, and lying down on the couch, we did it! And it wasn’t that bad – the worst part was the hubs face while watching videos and then after seeing the long needle…). I’m hoping the PIO does what it’s supposed to do, but as I’m typing this, another wave of bad cramping comes.

I’m waiting for 8:00 to come, and I’ll call my doc. I’m sure they’ll ask me to come in, do another ultrasound and bloodwork. And they’ll say that we need to wait and see – I’m almost sure of it. That’s the hardest thing to do – wait and see.

Everything was looking so good…

Who was I kidding? I was hoping for the perfect, no rollercoaster, nothing to worry about pregnancy. Of course I wouldn’t get it – this is me! Everything has to be so freaking hard! WHY???

I just heard from the doc about my blood levels from this morning’s visit. The hcg looks great – it’s over 5,000 and they don’t even count it once it’s over 5,000. But it has definitely doubled every 48 hours. The estradiol looks good – it’s 1,083. But the progesterone is not good. It’s 5.95. I’m taking Crinone gel twice per day, which should be sufficient. But apparently it doesn’t get into the bloodstream like progesterone in oil does, so they can’t tell if I have enough progesterone getting to the embryo. They want me to switch to PIO, but overlap with the Crinone. So I’ll take Crinone today and tomorrow, as well as PIO, and then only PIO starting Thursday. I haven’t had any spotting, but they want me to change the meds to make sure. Like the nurse said, everything else looks so good, we want to make sure it all works out.

With a frozen transfer, my body isn’t making any progesterone, so we have to supplement it artificially until the placenta takes over. Hopefully this PIO will make the difference, and everything will be ok.

I haven’t done any intramuscular shots before. I’ve heard they’re painful, but I don’t really care. As long as this baby is ok. I told the hubs via email he’s going to have to give me the shots, and he’s never done shots before. He responded, “I can’t do the shots honey.” And I told him, “Yes you can – it’s for your baby. You have to suck it up – I’m sorry.” He didn’t respond, so I asked, “You’re going to do the shots, right?” And he responded, “I will do my best to support you.” Smart man. Wish me luck trying to explain to him how to give me a shot in a way I’ve never done while making sure he doesn’t pass out.

I’m trying to not freak out. I really am. I just really want this baby to survive.

There’s a Sac in My Belly!

One beautiful sac, a yolk, and the beginning of a pole! I went into my doc’s office this morning for an ultrasound and blood work, and everything looks good for 5 weeks, 2 days. I have one perfectly developed sac, no heartbeat, but that will likely be next week. It’s still early for a heartbeat. I’m thrilled that everything looks good. Somewhat nervous, but I’m managing to keep most of the anxiety at bay.

And yet… I hate to say this, but I’m a little disappointed. I really wanted twins. I know this makes me seem ungrateful, but I’m not – I’m thrilled I’m pregnant, and everything looks good so far. I’m just a little disappointed. I’ve always wanted twins, but it’s more than that. I wanted to be done trying to conceive. With the news that there’s one little baby growing inside me, it means that I’m not yet done. We want at least two children, and we’re not going to stop until we have two. And I was really hoping to be done with this one pregnancy. But now I know that even after this pregnancy, I have to go through it again. I’m comforted that we have frozen embryos waiting for us, but still – I hate this part of my life – the trying to conceive part. I want to be done. And now I know that I won’t be done for at least a couple more years.

I hope this makes sense, and I don’t seem like some kind of ungrateful bitch, because that’s how I feel having any negative thoughts on the day that I find out that I have one perfect little sac. But there’s so much history in everything I do in this baby-making front, I can’t help it. OK, I’m done complaining – I won’t bring this up again, but I wanted to be honest about my feelings.

Overall, things are really good. The hubs got out of the shower this morning and looked at me while I was blowdrying my hair. He laughed, and said, “Why are you smiling?” I was just standing there blowdrying my hair, thinking about the baby in my belly, and smiling. I really hope I get to keep this little one – I’m getting quite attached!

Beta #1

It’s huge – 1,763! As the nurse said, I’m definitely pregnant! I’m technically 19 days past ovulation (when you take into consideration that they transferred 5-day frozen embryos 14 days ago), and so I will be at 5 weeks on Sunday. I looked at the ranges online, and I am definitely on the high end for both single and twin pregnancies. I go in on Tuesday for an ultrasound and more bloodwork – I shouldn’t expect a heartbeat at that stage, but I should be able to see a sac or two… It all seems like it’s happening so fast, but I guess that’s the good thing when your doctor’s policy is to wait 2 weeks after the transfer to do a beta!

I’m so excited. I love that my beta is high – it definitely makes me feel good. I hate to do this, but I immediately pulled up the stats on my last pregnancy, and at 20 dpo, I was 1,525, so I’m already ahead of the last one! I know it doesn’t really mean anything at this point, but I want to find anything I can to feel positive about this pregnancy.

We have so many more steps to go, but the pregnancy is official, and we have begun. Throughout the day, I whisper to my little embryos. Hang on tight, mommy loves you. They keep reminding me that they’re there – the cramping has begun. But good cramping – not the sharp kind. And I haven’t had a lick of spotting. I’ve been nauseous in the evenings all week, but this morning I was nauseous as well. I’m definitely not enjoying eating anything, but I know I need to keep eating to help with the nausea. But so super happy that I’m having these symptoms. I’m just beyond thrilled that I get this chance. Now I need to keep taking care of these little ones and everything will be fine. At least, that’s what I keep telling myself… But I’ll worry about stuff later. Today, I’m celebrating a wonderful beta number!

What a Day!

5:00am: Alarm goes off - exhausted.

5:45am: Leave with the hubs - go to surgery center

6:00am: Check in, fill out paperwork, hubs go back for surgery

7:30am: Surgery starts - I'm scared. Last night I had a dream that he died in surgery, and then I found out I was pregnant with twins! Woke up this morning petrified!

9:00am: Doctor tells me everything went well.

9:30am: Hubs is starting to wake up, and I get to go back to see him. He's having a really hard time waking up, and when he does wake up, he starts to have a lot of pain.

12:00pm: Finally get cleared to leave. Hubs is still in a lot of pain, but he has figured out that he needs to stop taking the drugs they offer if he ever wants to leave.

12:30pm: Drop off the hubs at home, go get his prescriptions filled, go to store to get clear liquids for him, freak out a bit (cry in car - so overwhelmed by his surgery).

1:30 pm: Change for work, go into work. Do a little work, freak out some more, give up.

4:00pm: Get home, find out the hubs is ok and feeling a little better, wait on him a bit, and chill out in bed with him.

7:00pm: Eat some food. Realize that all week, I can't eat dinner - it's always disgusting. Mention this to the hubs, he urges again to POAS (seriously, when did I become the strong one?). I say no, this goes on for about an hour.

8:00pm: Go to grocery store (forget what I said about being strong). Get annoyed that they don't have FRER in stock. Settle for generic brand.

8:30pm: POAS. Insist that the hubs look at it - I don't want to. He's never looked at one before (I always do it early in the morning before he wakes). He comes out of the bathroom where I had put the stick, and said, "Honey, you're pregnant!" It's the most beautiful, super dark, 2 lined, generic test you have ever seen - with evening urine!

9:00pm: Go to bed. My drugged up husband is happy, but can't show me - he's in too much pain (feel so bad for him!). We watch TV.

11:30pm: Give up on sleeping. Get up, lay on couch, read, finally get up and write this post.

Y'all, I'm pregnant!!! And I can't sleep - too excited!!!

The Power of Comments

You helped me, you really did. I made it through the baby shower – unscathed – and I owe most of it to my readers’ words. You made me believe in myself that I could get through it, and I did. And the other thing that helped so much is there were a couple moments that were tough during the shower, and I would just grab my phone, and scroll through a few of your comments that you sent me. Knowing all of my infertiles were behind me, cheering me on, helped me get through a tough day. So thank you!!!

The shower went fine – it was pretty quick, not too many people, and I didn’t tear up once. I noticed that I didn’t talk much. I didn’t really have much to add to the conversations all about babies and pregnancy. I was one of two women there without children. And I overheard her tell someone that she just stopped taking birth control, and they were starting to try. Oh great, another one that I’m sure will get knocked up right away. There were four little girls there, ranging from almost-two to six, and they were all so cute and well-behaved. Which actually kind of sucks – I always can rely on one or two kids being so incredibly bratty that they make me question whether I want children or not. But no, all of the girls were on their best behavior and in their little party outfits. Ugh. And my friend opened present after present of cute little boy outfits, matching or coordinating, oh so adorable. As I wrote every present down, I could feel my uterus ache. I want twin boys! Why can’t it be me? OK, I’m done whining…

The good news about the baby shower is I made it through, my friend got a lot of stuff that she needs, and I think everybody had a nice time. And it’s done!

Four more days – I find out on Friday. I’ve been feeling so nauseous the last few days. Everything smells gross, everything tastes gross. I think I’m either a psychosomatic crazy person or pregnant. I think either option is equally possible. And guess who brought up POAS last night – the hubs! I was complaining about being hungry, but not wanting to eat anything, and he offered to go to the store. I asked “what are you going to get that I will want to eat?” He said, “a pregnancy test.” We debated – I told him I would pee on it if he wanted me to. Laziness won out – he didn’t go to the store. Now he’s the one that wants me to pee on something! Well, maybe… I still have my goal of not peeing on anything prior to the blood test. I would love to see a positive result, but I want my four days of positive possibility. You can’t get that back if you pee on a stick, and it’s negative…

Don't know what I was thinking

I don't know what I was thinking. I offered to host a baby shower for my friend that is having twins (accidentally!!!) a long time ago. It was before my first IVF. It never occurred to me that I wouldn't be pregnant by now. 

As it got closer, I started to worry about the shower. But I figured I could handle it. I'm strong, right? My friend wanted to do the shower either this weekend or next. Knowing my IVF schedule, I asked for it to be this weekend - tomorrow - instead of next. I have my beta on Friday. I knew that if it was negative, there was no way I could host a shower the next day. I figured that it would be easier during the 2WW. I thought it would be fine, it would be hard, but I could do it. 

I needed to go to Target today to get some stuff off my friend's registry, and I asked the hubs to go with me. I explained it was going to be hard, so I really wanted him to come with me. He agreed, and we stopped at Petmart first. When we came out to the car, it wouldn't start! 3 year old car/battery! So while hubs waited for the tow truck, he suggested I walk to Target (not far) and shop without him. I didn't want to go by myself, but it seemed silly. Seriously, why couldn't I print off a registry and buy a couple baby gifts by myself?

I held myself together, but as I wandered the baby aisles, I could feel a lump in my throat start to swell. And then I wanted to get some matching outfits for the 2 boys. As I perused the clothes, it started to get worse. Finally I knew I had to get out of there. I was fine and didn't shed a tear, was pleasant to the cashier who couldn't figure out how to take items off the registry. Held myself together until I saw the hubs. I was pushing my cart toward the car and he asked what was wrong. Suddenly I burst into tears and said, "I don't know how I'm going to make it through tomorrow!"

I really don't. There's going to be at least four kids under five years old, and I think I might be the only non-mom there. At least it's not at my house, but I still am supposed to be hosting. Which means I probably shouldn't be hiding in the bathroom sobbing during the whole thing!

I can't believe I'm doing this. But I thought that I was past this, that I could handle situations like this. Turns out I'm not as strong as I thought. I know I'll make it through. But I also know that it will be one of the hardest things I will have to do.