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…
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.
So, one of my good friends is due in July and I’m helping plan her baby shower this weekend. I’ve actually been handling it pretty well until very recently. I just remembered that I volunteered to take care of games, which includes decorating onesies, and just the thought of going into Target and buying onesies made me start crying at work. I’d probably end up a sobbing mess on the floor of the store if I actually had to do it. So I emailed my friend who’s co-planning the shower with me and explained that between Mother’s Day and our upcoming due date that I haven’t been in a good place lately, and asked her if she’d mind getting the onesies. I also told her I may have to step back this weekend and may need an easy exit strategy during gift opening. My pregnant friend also knows about our loss, and while I know she’d be understanding if I broke down on Saturday, the last thing I want to do is spoil her day. I hope I can hold it together.
I never quite know how friends and family will react when I talk to them about our loss and how I’m doing. I had one friend imply that I should be “over it” by now when we were only about two weeks past our D&C. I don’t think she meant any harm by it, but simply put, if you haven’t been there, it’s hard to empathize with just how emotionally scarring pregnancy loss is. Only my parents and a small handful of friends know what we’ve been through, and while most have been supportive, they don’t always say the right thing.
But this friend immediately replied back, telling me not to think twice about it. She empathized with how hard this must be for me and that she absolutely understands if I need to step away from everything for a bit on Saturday. She told me she’s there for me if I need dinner, drinks or a walk to talk about things, and that she knows that D and I will have a healthy, beautiful baby when the time is right and that all the “aunties” who will be at the shower on Saturday will love this baby and be at my shower too.
Her email brought me to tears. I am so thankful to have good friends in my life.
So, I finally told my parents about our loss last Friday. I don’t know why I hadn’t told them already… maybe because we hadn’t even told them we were trying in the first place, and the only times we’ve seen them both since becoming pregnant or miscarrying has been Thanksgiving and Christmas, and other people were around and it just never felt like the right time to say, “by the way, we were pregnant… but not anymore.” I didn’t want to tell them over the phone, so I just hadn’t told them, even though it’s been eating me up since I tell them everything. Anyway, I had some time off work last week so I called them and asked if I could come over (they live about an hour away). It felt so good to spend the day with them and tell them what had happened, and they were so supportive. When I got home, I got an email from my mom telling me she was thinking about us, and that she was glad I had shared with her what happened; that she was thankful D has been so supportive for me, and that I can always count on her and my dad for support too. She said if I ever needed her, she wouldn’t hesitate to come right over.
Her note brought tears to my eyes — and still does, recalling it. If I am half the mother my mom is, I know I will be doing all right.
One of the hardest things about not telling many people about our loss has been the baby and pregnancy references from other people. Most of these are well-intentioned — friends asking when we’re going to have kids or parents asking if we have any big news to share. They sting, but I can usually force a smile and get through it.
This Christmas, though, D’s grandma got us a very “special” gift and I’m having a hard time getting over it.
A little background to set the stage: Grandma Hoffman is crazy. And I don’t mean in a sweet old lady who forgets things kind of way. I mean in a truly lost her mind sort of way. On top of it, she is just plain mean. Even her own kids can’t stand her, and everyone tiptoes around her so as not to upset her. Not that they necessarily care about her feelings, but no one wants to hear her nonsensical tirades when something sets her off. No one will tell her which grandkids are living with their significant others, or that our brother-in-law is gay. This woman believes with all her heart that homosexuality evolved as a result of women’s lib — and I quote, “Women stopped letting men open doors for them, so men started kissing each other.”
You can’t make this kind of crazy up. But I digress…
Anyway, we often get strange things from her for Christmas, and I’ve learned to take most things with a grain of salt. This year, though, she took the concept of strange gifts to a whole new level. She got D furry handcuffs. Yes, you read that right. Furry handcuffs. Like the kind you would find in a sex store. And they came with a note. Something about how she is 87 years old and wants a male great grandchild to carry on the family name before she dies and that D can use these to tie me up and make it happen. She obviously doesn’t know what we’ve been through, and if she wasn’t so crazy I would have had some words for her. But there’s absolutely no reasoning with her, she is simply that crazy.
I’ll admit, in the 9 years D and I have been together, I’ve always just sort of laughed at crazy Grandma Hoffman. I never let her upset me the way she did to D and his sister. But this “gift” hit a nerve. I’ll probably go to hell for saying this, but I kind of hope this is her last Christmas.
My earlier worries turned out to be unfounded, and I had a wonderful time with family at Thanksgiving. Truly a relief, and just what I needed after all the emotional turmoil we’ve been through these last few weeks. I think accepting a drink early in the day helped subtly establish right away that I was clearly not pregnant, which effectively squashed any questions before they could start. I did worry that someone would ask a seemingly innocent question about our plans for starting a family, but thankfully, the topic didn’t come up. Instead, we had a wonderful time, full of great food, games with the family and laughing to the point of tears on more than one occasion. I can’t even describe how good it felt to cry from laughter instead of sadness.
Today we had D’s dad and step-mom over for dinner. It was a bittersweet day, since we had originally invited them over with the intention of telling them about the pregnancy. We had told them we wanted them to see all the work we’ve done on the house. After losing the baby, we didn’t want to rescind the invitation, so we had to get through today with a smile, all the while painfully aware of what this day was supposed to have been. Despite this, we did have a very nice time with them, and it really was fun to show them everything we’ve done on the house.
Tomorrow is Apple Cup – another day that should be fun, but will carry with it the burden that it should have been more, because it’s the day we had planned to tell our friends about the pregnancy. I even bought a t-shirt that says “Future Coug” with an arrow pointing to the belly. Instead of wearing that shirt tomorrow, it will remain at the bottom of a drawer until who knows when. I know tomorrow will be a lot of fun, but I also know a part of me will be a little sad at the same time.
I suppose one of the downfalls of being such a planner is that when things don’t work out as I had planned, certain would-be milestones – like when we had planned to tell people – just become painful reminders of our loss. But despite the horrific past few weeks we’ve had, these past couple days have made me realize we truly do have much to be thankful for. I love my family. I have a wonderful husband who loves me and has been my rock through this whole ordeal. We have a home that we’ve worked hard to make something we can be proud of. And we have great friends who will undoubtedly make tomorrow a memorable day – even if it’s not the memory I had planned.
Usually I love this holiday, but this year I’m dreading it. Don’t get me wrong – I am very excited to see my family, especially my dad, whom I haven’t seen in almost two months. But tomorrow was supposed to be the day we told our family that I’m pregnant. I haven’t been able to bring myself to tell them about the loss yet, which is strange, since I tell my mom everything. But telling them about the loss would require telling them I was pregnant in the first place – something we had been saving until we had the opportunity to tell them both together in person… which would have been Thanksgiving. This day has just been so built up and now that it’s almost here, it’s such a painful reminder of the baby that will never be.
So, tomorrow is going to be difficult. A big part of me wants to wait until we have good news to share before we tell them about the loss. But I let something slip about a month ago to my mom that I think raised her suspicions about the possibility that we might be pregnant or at least in the process of trying. I honestly don’t know how I’ll react if she says anything tomorrow. Some days I surprise myself with the strength to put on a smile and pretend like nothing’s wrong. Other days I break down in tears over the most seemingly insignificant things (choking back tears as I type this). D really doesn’t want to talk about it tomorrow because he doesn’t want it to overshadow the whole day; we don’t get to see both of my parents very often and holidays should be happy times. I agree with him… I just hope I can hold it together tomorrow.
Keeping up with the Hoffmans 