It still doesn’t seem real. Not only that, but my PgAL (pregnant after a loss) brain has worked me into thinking it won’t last.
I (ahem) *may or may not* have taken several pregnancy tests since last Wednesday when we first got that faint positive. The good news is, the line is getting darker each time.
I know you aren’t supposed to use these tests quantitatively, since the amount of dye can vary from one test to the next, but in theory, the more hCG you have in your system, the darker the line is, so it gives me some small peace of mind to know that my hCG at least appears to still be rising. I know it’s not a reliable method of tracking the progression of the pregnancy, but I’ll take any grains of reassurance I can get at this point.
I had a couple days earlier this week where I felt pretty good. The nausea seemed to subside and I pretty much felt like myself. Great, right? WRONG. So very wrong. The absence of symptoms had me convinced the pregnancy was over. The symptoms seem to have come back these last few days, though. Never thought I’d be so happy to throw up!
It’s bittersweet to be starting the weekly posts again, considering the last time I wrote one of these was at 8 weeks, just two days before our world came crashing down around us. This time around I’m not going to be taking weekly photos just yet. One, because there’s really no point this early as it’s just all bloat; and two, because it’s just too painful to remember the last time I was taking those. Maybe at 9 weeks I’ll start including photos, since we didn’t make it that far last time.
Okay, here we go again…
At 4 weeks…
Baby is the size of a poppyseed and is already starting to grow organs and hair!
Mama is tired, bloated, emotional and nauseated. A new symptom this time around is a persistent headache, which is super annoying. The nausea has come on a lot stronger sooner this time too. I don’t think I actually threw up until around 5 weeks last time. This time I started throwing up once or twice a day right away, starting with the night of the first maybe-positive pregnancy test. Similar to last time, the smell of dog food makes me hurl and I can’t stomach coffee anymore. My allergies have also been out of control, and I’ve been too paranoid to take my Zyrtec, even though it’s supposedly okay to take. I have a lot of cramps, which I’ve read is just your uterus preparing to stretch, but still has me paranoid Aunt Flo is about to come and crash the party. In short, I’ve been feeling like crap these last few days… but I wouldn’t change it for the world! One thing I would change, though, is this nasty cold I’ve come down with over the last couple days! I even think I may have been running a slight fever last night as I was hot and cold all night.
I had my betas drawn on Thursday and Saturday – the first draw was 27 and the second draw was 63. So they’re more than doubling, which is a good sign, but I’m still so afraid of every little thing. They didn’t/wouldn’t check progesterone like I thought they were going to, so hopefully that’s not an issue. I’ve gone a couple days now without actually throwing up, but I don’t know if that’s because the nausea has subsided a bit or if I’m making a bigger effort to hold it back (my throat was SOO raw a few days ago from the daily vomiting). I’m so paranoid about everything at this point. 32 days until our first ultrasound… it cannot come soon enough!
I was planning to test again this morning to see if the line got any darker. Of course, I caved and tested last night (who am I kidding?), and the line was still very faint, but definitely more prominent. I tested again this morning and it was even darker. So it appears this is it. Please, God, let it stick.
D is still acting very ambivalent about the whole thing. I confronted him about it again last night and he said he is just really hesitant to let himself get excited this time. I get that, I really do. I am feeling that way too. But I am really trying to be happy about this since worrying about the future won’t do me any good. Today I am pregnant, and today I love my baby. That’s the mantra I need to keep repeating.
I made a bunch of doctor’s appointments this morning, so it’s starting to feel real. I go in for a series of blood draws over the next several days to make sure my hCG levels are rising appropriately (they’re supposed to double every 48-72 hours). I’ll also get my progesterone tested to make sure it’s sufficient to sustain a pregnancy. If it’s low, they can start me on supplements right away. I’m just getting these blood draws done at the clinic that’s located in the same building where I work, and then they’ll send them over to my new OB.
Yes, a new OB. I’ve been rather frustrated with my current OB the last several times I’ve gone in. For one, the first thing she always says to me when she walks into the exam room is, “Have we met?” I’m sorry, but I’ve just had the worst year of my life and have been in to see you several times. If you can’t remember me, clearly you have too many patients, but the least you could do is take 5 seconds to look at my chart and see that I was just in a few months ago. She also just seemed really prescription happy without actually trying to solve the underlying problem, and she never seemed to be very supportive of me asking questions or discussing things. She always seemed really rushed. I think I’m just ready for a fresh start with someone new, and from what I’ve read online about this new doctor, I think it’s going to be a better personality fit. I have to go in for some mandatory workshop thing on September 20, then I have my first ultrasound on September 28 with the nurse practitioner, and then I see the new doctor for the first time at my 12 week appointment on October 22nd.
So, this is really happening! It’s still hard to believe, but I’m already feeling it, physically. I have frequent headaches, which is new. And, similar to last time, coffee doesn’t sound good, and the smell of dog food makes me barf, as I rediscovered this morning. I generally tend to be feeling my “morning sickness” more in the evenings this time around, though.
So, I took a test this morning and I might be pregnant.
Honestly, I’m not sure what to think. I promised myself this cycle I would actually wait for my period to show instead of testing early. I’m 10 DPO today, so it’s pretty early to be testing, but I have just not been feeling like myself lately. My allergies have been out of control and the Zyrtec is doing jack squat for that. I’ve also been really nauseated off and on the past couple days. So last night I laid out a test that I planned to take first thing this morning (it’s best when you’ve been holding your pee overnight). Of course, at 2 a.m. I woke up and had to pee. I made myself go back to sleep and had restless off and on sleep, complete with multiple dreams about peeing on tests, in one of which I got my period at the same time. Super.
Finally, I got up around 6:30 and took the test. I went back to bed for about 5 minutes to wait for it to develop, and then got up and looked at the test. Big Fat Negative. Of course. I almost threw it away, but then I looked again and I swore I saw just the faintest shadow of a line. I stared at it in different lights and the more I stared, the more I swore there was something there.
Can anyone else see the line or am I seeing things? (and please ignore the dirty sink – how embarrassing!)
I went back to bed and told D I think I might be pregnant… but that I wasn’t sure. His eyes popped open really wide and he said, “Really?” I then explained how I thought I saw a line, but it was so faint, but then again, they say a line is a line… I asked if he wanted to come look at it, and when he said, “not really,” I was pretty put off. Come on, this is a big deal! But then he said he was worried about getting his hopes up again.
I do understand his hesitation. First of all, I’m not even sure if it’s really a positive test. I’ve read about “evaporation lines” that look a lot like really faint positives. Even if it is positive, we’re painfully aware that a positive test doesn’t always result in a baby.
So many thoughts running through my head right now. I really hope I am pregnant, but if I am, I can already tell it’s going to be a lot different than last time. I’m sure part of my lack of excitement has to do with the uncertainty of whether it’s really a positive, but I also think I’m going to have a hard time getting excited until we get past that first ultrasound. I think I’m subconsciously protecting myself from the extent of the pain from last time.
Hopefully testing again tomorrow will show a more clear result. Until then, I’ll remain in limbo…
This morning I realized that a week from tomorrow will be a full year from when we started this journey. A year. It feels like just yesterday, and ages ago at the same time. I am not the same person I was a year ago, that’s for sure. This experience has definitely changed me, changed my outlook, changed how I see the entire process of having a baby. I’m now painfully aware of just how long it can take, and that time sort of stands still when you’re living your life in two week increments (period to ovulation, ovulation to pregnancy test. Lather, rinse, repeat). I also know that a positive pregnancy doesn’t always equal a baby, and whenever I hear about someone else’s pregnancy, I am automatically guarded for them, because I know just how much it hurts to go from being over-the-moon excited to more devastated than you’ve ever felt in your entire life in a matter of seconds. I’ll also never again ask someone when they want to start having kids, because I know how much of a loaded question that seemingly innocent topic is. Not to mention, even when you finally “decide” to start a family, sometimes you find it’s not your decision to make.
In short, I’m jaded. I’m broken. That’s what a year will do to you.
Oh my. So much has happened in the last few weeks, I’m not even sure where to begin. Let’s see, I started therapy, we bought a house, my dad had a heart attack (he’s okay now), we began the process of renting out our current house, and I officially started fertility treatments.
Maybe I should break this up into sections…
Therapy:
As I mentioned in my previous post, I decided to seek out therapy to help me cope with the grief I was still dealing with from the miscarriage, and the anxiety about having trouble conceiving again since. Due to my previous therapy experience, I was a little skeptical about the process, but also aware that I did need some help. We’ve had three sessions now and I like it so far. It’s not covered by insurance, so I hope it’s worth it. I guess time will tell…
House Stuff:
A little over two weeks ago, on Thursday, July 19, we went to go see a few houses we had seen online. The last one we saw on the tour was just about perfect: great curb appeal, amazing neighborhood, great schools, huge yard, very private – it was pretty much everything we had been looking for, and anything that wasn’t 100% perfect could be updated or changed. And since the neighborhood was so nice, we’d never worry about doing too many updates and pricing ourselves out of the neighborhood. We made the offer the next day, on Friday, and found out Saturday morning our offer was accepted. Holy crap, we just bought a house!
We knew we had a lot to do to get our current house ready to rent out, so we got to work on finally finishing up some home improvement projects we had either started or procrastinated on. We close on August 24, so we’re hoping to get a renter in starting September 1. We had two families come by to look at it last night, another coming tonight, and a couple more I’m trying to schedule for next week. Both families last night said they were interested and would be filling out an application. This is all happening so fast, but is very exciting!
Our new house!
Dad’s Heart Attack:
Last Monday, my mom called me at work to tell me my dad had had a heart attack. It was some of the worst news I’d ever heard, and I felt like my heart, too, had stopped when she told me. I quickly dashed out of the office, D picked me up from work and we drove all the way around to the peninsula to meet them at the hospital. He was in really bad shape when we got there, but stable. Apparently he had been walking into a meeting earlier that day when his heart just suddenly stopped and he collapsed. Thankfully he was surrounded by his competent medical team (he’s a doctor) when it happened. They performed about 5 minutes of chest compressions on him, before zapping him with the paddles, which finally brought him back. They rushed him to the hospital, where they determined he had two 90% blockages in his arteries. They put two stints in to open them up, which should be a permanent solution — that and meds he’ll need to stay on indefinitely to ensure it doesn’t happen again.
D and I went to see him last Thursday and he was home, talking, walking around, eating, and generally in good spirits. Hard to believe we were looking at someone whose heart had completely stopped just three days prior. He is still in a lot of pain, as he cracked some ribs during chest compressions, but he’s expected to make a full recovery, and we are so thankful. Thank God it happened where it did, and not while he was driving or something.
On the one hand, I’m glad we’re being proactive. Seeing the doctor was the first step in hopefully finally figuring out what’s wrong and getting pregnant already. On the other hand, I’m terrified. I can no longer reassure myself that “these things just take time,” or “it’ll happen any time now.” There’s a good chance something may actually be wrong. And that’s an overwhelming thought.
So to start, my doctor prescribed me 2.5 mg of Femara to take for 5 days. Femara is similar to the more well-known Clomid, in that it’s often used for women who don’t ovulate, but is also sometimes given to women who do ovulate (like me), to give ovulation a boost. Unlike Clomid, though, Femara tends to have fewer side effects and has less of a chance of turning you into an egg factory. Women on Clomid often have to be carefully monitored because they can actually produce too many eggs — and no one wants to be the next Octomom! Femara does have a slightly elevated risk of twins, but it’s so low it’s considered almost insignificant. Truth be told, in some ways I almost wouldn’t mind twins. I do want two kids, and this has been such an ordeal trying to get even one. If I could be one-and-done when it comes to pregnancy… I have to admit, that does have its appeal. Then again, with my miscarriage history, I am not interested in having a high-risk pregnancy, and multiples usually are. I’m pretty sure I’ll be a basket case when the time comes even with a normal pregnancy.
In addition to the Femara, D has to get his swimmers checked, and next month if I’m not knocked up yet, I’ll go in for what’s called a hysterosalpingogram, or HSG for short. This, I’m not looking forward to. They inject a dye in your uterus and then look at it through an ultrasound to see if there are any blockages, scar tissue, or other abnormalities. I’ve heard it’s pretty painful. Why do guys have it so easy? Look, I get that it’s awkward to have to walk into a clinic and do… that – but come on! Here I am, legs in stirrups, having this painful procedure done, while D is next door having an orgasm? Not fair.
Hopefully it won’t come to that and the Femara will do its job — without doing it too well. One would be great, two would be doable, but I don’t want a litter.
It’s taken me a while to come to this decision, but despite the fact that time does seem to be slowly healing the pain of the miscarriage, it’s only increasing the anxiety associated with trying (and failing) to conceive again. Each month that goes by without success has me more and more worried that there’s something wrong with me, and that perhaps this won’t ever happen… that conceiving the first time was just a fluke, or the miscarriage/D&C somehow effed up my body and I’ll never be the same.
The fear is all-consuming, and it’s permeating every area of my life. I’m distracted at work. I’m unmotivated to cook, clean the house or exercise. And hobbies of mine – things that used to make me happy, like home improvement projects and volunteering with dog rescue – have all but fallen by the wayside lately. I’m pretty sure I’m depressed. Ironically, I don’t necessarily feel “down,” per se — at least most of the time. I have a few hard days where I shed some tears each month when I realize I’m not pregnant, but overall my “mood” feels pretty normal, which is why it’s taken me so long to come to the conclusion that I might actually be depressed. I’d even go so far as to say I’m feeling pretty good right now. D and I just got back from a week-long stay at our lake cabin, which was both relaxing and a lot of fun. I’m also pretty sure I’m ovulating right now, which even has me feeling hopeful and optimistic about this cycle.
So anyway, tonight I have my first appointment with a therapist. I’m not really sure what to expect, and to be completely honest, my past experience with therapy hasn’t been all that great. D and I saw a marriage counselor several years ago to help us through a rough patch, and while our relationship did in fact get better, I attribute that more to the normal ebb and flow of the relationship – and the fact that he was so willing to go with me to therapy in the first place – than any “breakthroughs” or anything that came from the therapy itself. We eventually stopped going because we felt like our relationship was getting to a better place on its own, and were tired of shelling out $185 a week just to sit on a couch and have some lady stare at us. Seriously, we may as well have been talking to a stuffed animal. She rarely offered any insight and never initiated the conversation. It was always up to us to start talking. And by “us,” I mean “me.” D has never been much of a talker (communication was always our primary issue), and he would never start the conversations in any of our therapy sessions. And since the therapist didn’t give us any structure or guidance, I always felt like it was my responsibility to start talking. I even tested that theory one time and decided that just this once, I wouldn’t be the first to talk. Surely D or the therapist would start the conversation, right? Nope. 20 whole minutes went by where we all just stared at each other, before I finally exploded from the frustration. Yeah, super awkward, a huge waste of money — and only amplified my frustration with D’s lack of communication. Real helpful.
Long story short, you could say I’m a skeptic when it comes to therapy. But, I know people who swear by it, and whenever I tell someone the story of our past therapy experience, everyone tells me that you just have to find the right therapist. So I’m going into this with an open mind. I do like that this therapist specializes in pregnancy loss and fertility issues, and that she offers a free 30 minute initial consultation. So that’s what this is tonight – a trial, to see if this is going to be a good match before I decide if this is likely to be helpful or not.
I get that look young. I get that I’ll appreciate it someday. I get that, believe me. But right now, I just feel like crap.
Why do conversations always have to turn to kids in social settings? I mean, I get it when, like last weekend at a friend’s BBQ and I’m the only woman there without a baby on her lap, that things would turn to kids. But at a work event? I thought that was my safe zone. Nope, the guys in the circle I was talking to started sharing kid stories, and then the attention suddenly turned to me and one of the guys was like, “so, do you have… (pause, chuckle)… of course YOU don’t have any kids. You’re not old enough! (chuckle, chuckle)”
All I could do was plaster a fake smile on my face and say, “no, I don’t have kids.” It was really awkward. Here I am, standing next to my coworker — whose (younger than me) wife just gave birth two weeks ago — yet again in the no kids club, party of one.
Again, part of me feels like I should be flattered – I’m young – plenty of time to have kids, right? But then I caved and took a home pregnancy test when I got home (I was holding out for Sunday), and of course it was negative. I know it’s still early to be testing, but I’m not feeling confident in this cycle, either. And I’m not as young as my colleagues think I am. I’m 31. I wanted to have two kids and be done by 35. How much longer is this going to take? What if this never happens? The no kids club is just going to get lonelier and lonelier the older I get…
Today was supposed to be my due date for my angel baby. I’ve been dreading this day for a while now, but surprisingly, I think I’m doing okay so far. As I was getting ready for work this morning I felt a sudden pang of sadness when I realized what today was, but other than that, I’m all right. Actually, last week was much harder on me, as my coworker who was due around the same time as us had his baby (a couple weeks early). While I’m so happy for them and can’t wait for them to bring their baby girl into the office for a visit, it’s impossible not to think about the fact that we should be having a baby right now and I had myself a good long cry last week.
But, like I said, I think I’m doing okay. And while the day isn’t over yet, I think the anticipation of today was much worse than the day itself. I even found myself whimsically browsing baby names websites last night while in front of the TV and dreaming about our next baby. I think I’ve started to round a corner where I’m dreaming more about the future than mourning the past. And I think taking a step back from being obsessive has helped me out a lot. As I mentioned in my last post, I gave up ovulation tests, obsessive internetting, any special foods, drinks or herbs that are supposed to help with fertility, and only tracked my temperature until I could confirm ovulation and start my progesterone pills prescribed by my doc. I’m excited to say that I ovulated Monday and so I have put the thermometer away… hopefully for good this time. I’m going to try my very hardest not to think about how many “DPO” (days past ovulation) I am throughout this part of my cycle and to not allow myself to even think about peeing on a pregnancy test until Sunday, the 24th at the earliest. I even had a beer last night and am trying to just live my life without putting it on hold for what may or may not be right now.
Oh, and I got the results back from the bloodwork I had done with my regular doc (mentioned here) and everything is normal. No thyroid issues, no low Vitamin D and apparently I have “excellent” cholesterol. So, with a clean bill of health and our due date behind us, I feel both physically and emotionally ready – now more than ever. Bring on the baby.
I have mentioned before that I can sometimes be a littleobsessive.
Let’s face it. I am the queen overanalyzer. And while I hate it when people say, “just relax and it’ll happen,” the truth is, I do need to relax. It’s not that I think relaxing will magically get me pregnant — it’s just that I’m not doing my own sanity, health and wellbeing any favors by getting wound so tightly.
Last cycle I attempted to relax by doing a meditation podcast series. While I did find myself able to physically relax for those 15 minute podcasts each day, I think adding more to my routine and getting me actively thinking about things on a regular basis just contributed to my obsession more than it helped me to relax, overall.
So, this cycle I’m forcing myself to take a break from everything but the “essentials” – that is, sex, vitamins and the progesterone prescribed by my doc. Caveat: since I can only start progesterone after ovulation, I do still need some way to track ovulation, so I’ll keep charting my temperature. It’s pretty much become second nature to me, at this point. I simply pop my thermometer in my mouth when the alarm goes off and then I go back to sleep. The only time temping causes me any stress is after ovulation when I overanalyze my chart looking for any signs that I might be knocked up. So, to avoid this, I’m only going to temp until I can confirm ovulation so I can start my progesterone, and then I’ll put the thermometer away.
In addition to the abbreviated temping, here’s what else I’m giving up (even though very few people read this blog, I figured making a list will help keep me accountable):
1. OPKs (ovulation predictor kits): In previous cycles, I had been using OPKs in conjunction with charting to pinpoint ovulation. You see, OPKs tell you when you’re likely to ovulate, but don’t confirm when it’s actually happened. Conversely, charting your temperature confirms ovulation after the fact, but gives very little indication when it’s about to happen. As a result, using the two together typically makes for a pretty good predictor/confirmation routine.
Problem is, you have to start peeing on these ovulation sticks twice a day several days before you expect to ovulate so you don’t miss it. This leads to awkwardly testing in the bathroom stall at work, squinting at the tests to try to determine whether they’re negative or positive (they can be a bit ambiguous), and then feeling the pressure to get busy once you see a positive (which can make things feel a bit clinical after a while). I think giving up OPKs will save me some obsession and force us to keep at least some of the spontaneity and romance alive.
2. Online message boards: This is one of the biggest things I’m giving up. After our miscarriage, I found a wonderful online support group that has been a godsend throughout this process. Not many people in my real life even know what we’ve been through, and even those who do can’t always relate or know the right things to say. This message board has been a huge source of support for me since no one there judges me for breaking down in tears just from seeing a pregnant lady on the street or wanting to punch the next preggo who says she’d give anything for a drink. The ladies on this message board have all been through what I’m going through – from the heightened emotions and “bad days” that creep up out of nowhere, to the low tolerance for those who complain about what we would quite literally give our right arm for. They know what it’s like, because they’ve been there.
Unfortunately, despite the tremendous support I get from this group, I am also fully aware that being entrenched in this community may be keeping me from moving on. Not to mention, many of these women have it so much worse than me. Some have been dealing with infertility for years and/or are on their third, fourth or even fifth miscarriage. As awful as our situation is, it’s probably only a minor setback in the grand scheme of things. Being surrounded by so much pain and struggling has left me feeling pretty gloomy about our future – to the point where I just expect to have trouble getting pregnant and/or will inevitably miscarry again. And while that’s certainly a possibility — and I’ll never be as naive or innocent as I once was — dwelling on worst case scenarios isn’t helping me to stay positive.
3. Dr. Google: Um, yeah. Hypochondriac overanalyzers like me should not be allowed to google anything medically-related, and should be banned from WebMD. From low Vitamin D, to hypothyroidism, to endometriosis, to Asherman’s Syndrome, to blood clotting disorders, I’ve run through a gazillion scenarios in my head as to why we miscarried and/or why we haven’t been able to get pregnant since. Of course, reading up on all those things just gets me all wound up unnecessarily. Is it possible that I have any of the aforementioned afflictions? Sure, anything’s possible. But more than likely, my miscarriage was a chromosomal issue (very common) and we haven’t gotten pregnant yet because it’s only been four cycles and it takes the average couple six months. In other words, at this stage in the game we’re still in the realm of normal. No need to go looking for problems. So I’m banning myself from googling anything pregnancy-related for one full cycle. This one was specifically requested by D, too. I think it upsets him to pick up the iPad and start to type something in, only to see my obsessive search history pop up.
4. “Hippie witchcraft”: This is D’s terminology and applies to things such as drinking pomegranate juice to thicken your uterine lining, drinking green tea to aid in conception, and eating pineapple core to assist in implantation. Yeah, I’ve tried all those things. As mentioned earlier, I even recently spent $40 on a meditation podcast series specifically designed for those trying to conceive. While I actually did enjoy the meditation and it certainly helped me sleep better, I know that I’ve gone off the deep end, looking for some silver bullet to help us get pregnant. None of the aforementioned things are harmful by any means – in fact pomegranate, green tea and pineapple are all good for you – but they aren’t helping me to stop obsessing either, so they’ve got to go.
I’m 11 days into this cycle, and I must say, I am obsessing quite a bit less, so hopefully this helps. I do still stare at the calendar every day and dream of how different my life might be a few weeks, a few months, a year from now. And I still think about the baby we lost and the baby we’re trying for multiple times throughout the day. But as our original due date approaches (just a week and a half away), I’m also starting to feel perhaps the beginning stages of some sort of closure? I can only hope.
Keeping up with the Hoffmans 