Conflicted

I've started this post about a thousand times over in my mind.  I keep going around if I should even put this down, but eff it...I'm just going to say it.  I spend a fair amount of time feeling guilty about this pregnancy.  That shouldn't mean that I'm not excited about Abby, don't misunderstand me, I absolutely am.  Andrew painted her room last week and I stand in there almost every day, imagining reading to her, rocking her, changing her.  I dream about holding her and just looking at her.  I wish Abby was here, just see whose nose she has.  Will she have my dark hair or his blonde hair?  Then I'm bombarded with all of this:

• I feel guilty that I got pregnant the old fashioned way, after IVF and miscarriages, and so many of you are still struggling.  I hate that you're struggling.  It brings me to tears to think that my friends are in such pain.
• I'm so thankful that I'm pregnant, I'm so happy after so many years of struggling...should I feel this happy?  How do I reconcile all of the sadness of the past seven years with this?
• While I'm thankful for this pregnancy, I have to admit...pregnancy is not my cup of tea.  I fought so hard to be here and now I dislike almost everything about this.  Am I not supposed to love being pregnant?  Sure, I love feeling Abby kick and squirm (even at 1am), but my feet are swelling at the end of the day and I can't bend over without gasping for breath.  
• My appetite is crrrrrrrrrrazy right now, so I'm mooching food from everyone.  Sorry, work friends.  It's just everything is so yummy.  On the bright side...I've only gained 15 pounds.  Yay?

So that's just a small taste of things that I'm dealing with right now.  I'm struggling with being on a different page, one that I thought I would be so quick and happy to flip to.  It's so weird being in this position.  Does all of this sound like whining?  It feels like whining.  Whatever.  I need to get it out.

We have done some positive things over the last few weeks.  We registered at the Tar.get, moved the guest room, and like I said, made a sacrifice to the My Little Pony gods ..I mean, painted her room.  I bought her first onesie for her.  My good friend gave me a fantastic breast pump and bottles, because she is amazing.  I helped to put a rough idea of a baby shower together with my aunt and cousin.  Things are really good, I just struggle to be comfortable in this skin. 

Here are some pics of the last few weeks:

Mara helping dad make room for Abby

See what I mean about the sacrifice to My Little Pony?  Please no Rainbow Dash

It's 0-3 months...please let her be small enough to wear it

So that's us right now.  We're slowly getting ready for our baby, who is due 117 days.  Thanks for the countdown, registry.  Love you guys.  Xoxo

TBT..to Thursday

Sorry about the super brief post on Thursday.  I barely had my house clean before our family came over to celebrate Abby, but I made it!  This is how Thursday went down:

• Wake up at 4am, because I can't sleep.  I'm nervous about the ultrasound
• Listen to Mara cat yell at me during the shower, she's hungry and wants me to hurry.  That cat is stomach driven.  The morning session of the hunger games is on and I am tribute.
• Feed cats, wake up Husband for the second time.  Get more nervous as we get closer to leaving.  I just want everything to be ok.
• 7:15:  Leave the house.  Struggle through morning traffic, hate every single person that's driving except us.  Drink a liter of water on the way to the doctor's office...they say to have a full bladder.  Job done.
• 7:50:  We arrive and hustle up to the third floor for our 8am appointment.  I am nothing if not on time when nervous.
• 8:10:  Realize I should have paced myself with the liter of water.
• 8:20:  Explain to the office staff that my bladder is being used as a trampoline and it's situation critical.  They check to see what the delay is.
• 8:30: Ultrasound Kelly calls us back, explains there was a problem with the machine.  I'm thinking that I don't really care, at this point I'd be happy with a polaroid camera stuck up there if I could just pee. I try really hard not to pee on the table, and I succeed.

************This is where ultrasound pics start.  Stop if you can't, I understand***************





So we found our baby in this position:

So lady like

 At least she didn't make us wait, right?  Good girl, Abby, good girl.  She flipped and flopped the entire ultrasound.  Granted, I did have a glass of OJ before we left.  I didn't want to not find out, but holy hell, she didn't need to play bouncehouse with my bladder.

Here are some more pics:

Alien Abby, looking at us

Settling in for a nap

Her little feet!

Pointing and I think she was trying to flip us off with the other hand, but it's hard to see

Fist pump or thumbs up, she's ok!

***********************************************************************************

After all that, you need a cat:

 
So that's our daughter (it's weird to say).  Her full name is going to be Abigail Nancy (my mom) Nicolle (Husband's mom's maiden name) and the initials A.N.N spell out my middle name.  Look at all the symbolism!

Until next time guys...xoxo

The reveal..quick and dirty

Just a super quick, down and dirty post.  I have family coming over for dinner and my house is a wreck..I napped all afternoon.

Buuuuuttttttttt....Cinco is a girl!!  Her name is Abigail and wiggling is her game.  She's measuring perfectly for a March 4th due date, weighs 13 ounces and did not stop moving at all during the ultrasound.

Holy shit.  What am I going to do with a girl!!  We are so excited.  I promise I'll post more over the weekend, maybe include an ultrasound pic or two.  Xoxo

We did it!

We had our monthly checkup on Thursday morning.  Everything was fine, I measured on track and Cinco's heartbeat was in the 150s.  Nice and healthy.  My doctor always asks if I have any questions, so jumped in with how to stop an incompetent cervix from dilating, stuff like that.  He stopped halfway thru his answer and said "Why don't you stop waiting for the other shoe to drop?  You're going to have a baby, it's ok." Cinco chose that moment to give me a giant kick.  I guess I'll take that as a sign.  Fine..so I took my doctor's advice and we did this:

We bought the crib!  My heart was pounding, I was shaking and holding Husband's hand super tight throughout Ikea.  I only had a mild panic attack, with no tears.  I'm kind of proud of myself for that.  But there's a crib in my house, for my baby that's coming in 5-ish months, that was purchased with a mild freak out and no tears from me.  Do I get a gold star for this, guys?  I feel like I deserve a gold star. This is what the crib is supposed to look like, except for the green drawers since we got white ones:

We even picked out a dresser we want to use as a changing table, but we'll get that later.  One thing at a time, right?  I'm assuming that I haven't jinxed anything because I've felt Cinco move since buying the crib.  It's weird, like I have a coke can sized alien in my belly.  Weird, but cool at the same time. 

So that was our big deal for the week.  We find out what Cinco is on the 16th.  I'll be sure to keep you all up to date.  Xoxo, my loves.  I'm going to gaze at my crib in boxes, imagining it with a baby Weezy in it.

Acceptance

I'm currently 17 weeks and change.  My belly popped this week, so I'm actually looking pregnant instead of fat.  I feel little baby flutters and the occasional kick..or maybe it's just gas.  Either way I feel something, mostly at night. I'm solidly in maternity clothes...never underestimate the power of a stretchy waistline, people.  It's important. 

Even with all of this, I'm having trouble accepting that a baby is going to come out of me in March.  It's easier for me to accept that I'll have empty arms instead of a crying, pooping, being little Weezy.  It's strange to not identify as an infertile, too.  For so long that was my label, where I fit, the doctors that I saw all specialized in uteri, ovaries, and cycle days.  Now I'm lumped in with all of these regular pregnant people and I don't know what to feel.  Mostly I feel out of place.  I sort of feel like we cheated, getting pregnant the old fashioned way.  Does that make me...fertile?  I can't even fathom it. What am I?  Where do I identify?  What do I do with all of my miscarriage baggage?

I've put off registering until we know what Cinco is (two and a half weeks, just fyi) because it just made sense.  Why register for all this gender neutral stuff when I can pick colors.  I put off buying maternity clothes until absolutely necessary because I was afraid I'd jinx something.  My goal this week is to buy the crib. It's a big step and I'm working up to it.  I know I've got plenty of time to get ready, but I feel like I need to force myself to start jumping into the baby pool...otherwise I'll just delay, procrastinate and avoid.  Ahh, avoidance.  My favorite.  My plan is to go to Ik.ea on Thursday after my monthly check up and buy the crib.  Hold me to it, please.

 So far, this pregnancy has been largely uncomplicated.  Forgive the terrible nausea and the occasional ligament pull, I'm ok.  Symptoms right now include exhaustion, hunger and nausea.  The nausea went away, but reared its ugly head last week when I stopped Dic.legis.  So I'm back on it, which helps my motion sickness issues and I can't let my tummy get empty.  Soooooooo I'm eating everything, but I can still fit into my pre-pregnancy size, although it's in maternity pants (stretchy jeans, guys).  Maybe I haven't gained too much weight?  Cross your fingers.

So that's where I'm at.  Struggling to accept this experience will have a good outcome, accepting my changing body and needs, and working up the courage to buy something just for the baby.  I miss wine...a lot.  Xoxo

Floating

I never thought I'd write this post.  I honestly never thought I'd be here.  During this whole journey, I've had these experiences that I can only describe as out of body experiences.  Going through IVF was one, hearing and losing MB were another.  Then we get to Cinco.  Today, for the first time, we got to see Cinco.  We've heard its heartbeat and seen a blob on a screen  move around.  But today....there's a baby in there!!  This shit is real, and it's happening, and my body isn't betraying me. 

Fair warning, there are going to be ultrasound pictures below.  If you're still fighting through the battle that is infertility and don't want to look, that's ok.  I understand the hurt, the jealousy and the rage that you're feeling.  It's shitty, but I promise it won't always be this way.  You'll be here one day, too..hopefully soon.  Xoxo




.............Pictures are below..................



















Further.................





















Just a little more......

Cinco's profile.  It took awhile for Cinco to calm down during the ultrasound

Looks like Cinco has Dad's long legs

Hand on the head, universal sign of I'm done with pictures.  That's my kid

Today was amazing.  I feel like I'm floating.  Sorry for the flash and the counter.  Our printer/scanner combo is broken.  Figures! 

Lucky 13

I sit here at 13 weeks, on the eve of our NT scan.  I am nervous.  I have felt really good lately and that freaks me out.  This is what seven years of infertility does to you,  people.  It makes you second guess absolutely everything.  Am I exhausted because I'm pregnant or am I exhausted because I'm at a cat level lazy these days?  Is the nausea going away because I'm 13 weeks and things are supposed to get easier, or is it because Cinco died?  These are the things that run through my mind on a hourly daily basis.  My co-worker has been through the exact same thing (exact number of pregnancies as me, we even saw the same RE and now I'm going to her recommended OBGYN) and she told me to meditate on positive things before an ultrasound.  I'm trying, I really am.  It's just the worry keeps sneaking back in.  I wonder if I'll ever feel like a normal, blissfully ignorant pregnant woman. I wish I didn't know about all the things that could go wrong.  Life would be so much easier. 

Anyway, other than the freak outs I've been keeping under my belt, things have been ok.  I'm craving ice cream all of the time.  And cheese.  And whatever other food I smell.  Pizza seems to be a weakness these days.  I could wear my maternity pants, but I've been opting for leggings and my favorite, broken in jeans with my belly band.  I did have a bad day on Saturday when a pair of baggy, boyfriend like jeans wouldn't button.  There may or may not have been tears that morning.

We went to Ik.ea and found a crib that we like, but I can't make the jump to buy it.  In fact, I can't buy anything baby related without anxiety creeping up.  I always say no, we don't know what will happen yet and I put whatever it is back.  Honestly, we have to clean out the guest room and get Husband's office rearranged for a bed.  We have no business buying anything baby until that happens......right?  We only have these things representing that a baby may be on the horizon:

Just a teddy bear from my RE's office and two little cat rattle things that our family friend got us.  It's a good start.

So wish us luck tomorrow.  I promise I won't leave you hanging for six weeks.  Xoxo

Cliffhanging

Apologies for the cliffhanger.  Let me start by saying that Cinco is fine, I've made it to 12 weeks.  The last six weeks have included horrible, terrible morning sickness (all day sickness) to the point where I couldn't drive, couldn't scroll on a screen without vomiting, no grocery shopping because of all the smells, I even threw up in my neighbors bushes on a walk.  They weren't home...don't judge.  There was one ER visit for dehydration and severe cramping, but Cinco still lives.  We are due on March 4th, which happens to be the anniversary of Husband's father's death.  Husband thinks it's a little weird, I think it's kind of cool.  Sort of like a life going out, a life coming in...even if it is six years later.  Maybe I'm demented (maybe there's no maybe about it).

I sit here at 12 weeks and two days with a bit of a bit of a belly.  It really looks like I've eaten too many chips, which is probably true, but it's nice to see some outward sign that I'm pregnant.  I'm not going to post any belly pics, mostly because I want to be sensitive to others that follow this blog (and partly because I just hate taking pictures).  I know when other bloggers got pregnant and I was not, it was difficult.  On one hand I felt happy for them..isn't a victory for all of us when a fellow infertile gets and stays pregnant?  The flip side of that is that I always felt left behind, even jealous, still struggling.  Those are crappy emotions to manage and it sucks. 

I had my first regular OB visit last week.  There were a lot of warring emotions...I was so happy to have graduated from the fertility clinic, but I also hated being in the regular office.  My fertility clinic has a chair for umm..larger people. I always sat in it because A) a little self esteem boost never hurts anyone and B) it was comfortable. The new doctor has no such chair. Are you kidding me?  You have pregnant women waddling around.  Get bigger chairs.   Sitting in the waiting room,  I was coming out of my skin with nerves and I told Husband I wanted to go back to Dr. R.  He politely told me to get a grip, that I belonged in this office too.  Right, I may be pregnant, but I fought to be here.  Isn't there some golden throne for people like us?

The only thing I didn't like about the practice is that they said they didn't listen to the heartbeat until 13 weeks because it was too hard to hear.  Umm..what?  No, you will listen to the  heartbeat with me every time. Maybe multiple times.  You clearly have no idea how much I need that reassurance, you regular non recurrent pregnancy loss having nurse.  Anyway, we found Cinco thumping away at 169, 170.  The nurse was really, really nice and the doctor is fabulous.  I really think we're in the right place for Cinco.  Oh, and the new doctor is Dr. S.  Figure we may as well go down the alphabet, yes?

Other than allllllllllllll of that, nothing is new.  I've been spending a lot of time laying in bed with my cats, sleeping off the nausea.  Husband has been great at dealing with my crazy emotions and getting me whatever I think I might be able to eat.  Before anyone asks, I don't clean the catboxes.  It's never been on my radar.  I handle the vomit end, Husband handles the back end.  It works out. 

So that's me.  I leave you with a picture of my Aayla cat.  She takes a nap while I shower every day.  I guess it's bonding?

Cinco

I dreamed of my Uncle T the other night. I haven't dreamed of him since he died.  I have one sided conversations with him a lot, mostly when I'm driving. When I need a little extra support, I tell him I need him with me.  The dream wasn't anything earth shattering, it was just me going into his house and getting a gigantic hug from him.  I could smell his smell (usually a mixture of sweat and mint from his chewing tobacco), feel his beard.  I heard his voice tell me that he missed me and I felt his arms wrap around me in the hug, but most importantly I felt his love and his never ending support wash over me.  I woke up from dream in the middle of the hug, and I could still feel him around me.  I felt so reassured and so loved for the rest of the day  It was a nice check in from him.

Don't go thinking I'm one of those hokey, find a meaning in any dream people.  I'm probably one of the more logical women out there and I specifically don't look for signs from the other side.  I do, however, like to think that love always finds a way back into life.  My uncle and I were certainly connected and it's nice to think that he'd find a way to check in every now and again. 

I was going through some things yesterday and found a pregnancy test, so being the infertile I am I thought 'Better not waste this sucker.'  So I peed and...newsflash, that line was dark as hell and I'm still pregnant.  It's nice to have some reassurance, no?  I've spent most of the last week in a haze of exhaustion and nausea.  Sunday and Monday nights were really rough getting a couple hours of sleep because I was up and down being sick.  Side note, I like to think of myself as a clean person.  Some would go so far as to say a cleaning nazi.  You never realize how many spots you miss on your toilet until you're puking, which makes me want to puke more.  First world problems.  Anyway, I think I've finally found a good balance between B6, ginger drops (like cough drops, but ginger) and unisom at night to help me sleep (unisom and B6 are on my safe for pregnancy list, don't freak out).  Last night I slept 10 hours straight, so I can't complain.

We have our first ultrasound tomorrow.  I'm a little nervous, I'm not going to lie, but I don't feel super anxious about this.  I can't change what's already in there, dead or alive, so I'm just along for the ride.  FYI, we're calling this pregnancy Cinco because...well, it's the fifth and we've already had an MB.  I feel like it's bad luck to use the same name over again. 

I'll let you all know how the ultrasound goes.  If you want to send some good thoughts around 2pm, that would be appreciated.  Every little bit helps.  Xoxo

What had happened was...

Sometimes life gives you lemons.  So what do you do?  You make lemonade, obviously.  But then you get some vodka, spike that shit, have a good night with your husband and then you get this:

Oops

Yeah.  We apparently had fun on our break after my last period.  My first reaction was one of illiteracy because I had to have Husband read it to me.  I haven't had a positive test on my own in five years.  It only took three IUIs and one IVF, but here we are.  Talk about taking the long way around. We were on a break, being normal.  Don't even say I relaxed.  I've spent five years relaxing.  Oy.

Let's get some particulars out of the way:

• Last period 5/26..Happy Memorial Day
• I'm considered 5 weeks, three days today
• First beta was 650 (beta hcg, the blood pregnancy test for those that don't know)
• Second beta was today, came in at 1372 (clearly something is growing)
• Current symptoms include extreme exhaustion, motion sickness and general all day nausea.  I thought I was coming down with the stomach flu originally, but realized I was five days late, so I tested instead.

Surprise, surprise I guess.  I have pretty mixed emotions at the moment.  I'm flabbergasted that this actually happened, bummed I can't be normal for DMB and holy crap scared because this is way too soon after MB.  We make plans and God laughs, right?

Until next time, guys.  I need a nap.  Xoxo

We learned....

.....Jack shit.  We had our follow up appointment with Dr. R to go over blood work, tissue and HSC results.  Tissue samples from the HSC (thing involving the camera up the uterus) were normal. Blood work was normal, meaning no genetic issue on my or Husband's part.  MB's tissue results........yeah, MB didn't grow.  Like at all.  What does this mean?  Means we have no idea why I'm a spontaneous aborter and why MB decided to kick the bucket.  Glorious...fucking amazing. 

I'm sorry, I need a break from all this serious stuff....

I never knew it was broken!

 

 

 

 

So where does that leave us?  Well, we're back at the beginning.  I'm starting birth control at the end of the month and I'll be on it for a total of two cycles.  The goal is to get my estrogen nice and low, start Lupron during the second cycle to suppress the ovaries.  I'll be monitored and start some estrogen ramping up drugs (I forget the name, I'm not really a good patient) to build up my lining so the next passenger snuggles in for a awhile (hopefully 40 weeks).  FETs are all about building the lining.  I'll only have to do three shots instead of the 45,687 shots that an IVF cycle takes.  Thankfully, there's no stimulation, which means a lot less of crazy Beth to go around.  Fine. By. Me.

We decided to take the risk and transfer two embryos, instead of one.  There are a few possible outcomes with this:

1. Both embryos survive thawing and are transferred and implant, thus increasing the risk of twins by 40%
2. One embryo survives the great thaw, transfer, and implants
3. Both embryos are transferred and don't implant
4. Neither embryo survives the thaw and we're back at square one (You are here X)

Husband is all about twins, while my thought process is more along the lines of 'Please let's just get one out of this.'  It's kind of sad, my file is the size of a large book.  Dr. R made the comment that  it's time for a successful pregnancy.  No shit, man. No shit.

Until next time, my loves.  Xoxo

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Starting over

Hi?  Hello?  Peeps?  Sorry about the radio silence.  I needed to step away from everything fertility related to get my mind right.  I was to the point where I was thinking about being pregnant or not being pregnant all.the.time. Every day was X number of days since MB, every week the same.  To say I was bitter was an understatement.  I tried to blog on Mother's Day, but everything that came out was bitter and ugly, it made me sick of myself.  I'm not the type to wallow, but there I was.

Over the last sixweeks I've gotten my shit together.  I've made myself go out with friends, be around babies and kids, and (if I'm being honest) I even made myself have fun.  FUN.  It's not like every single day is great, sometimes this shit just sucks.  It sucks when people (more than one person has done this) walk up to me and ask me if I've thought about a surrogate (yeah, but do you have a spare 40-60k and someone to be the oven?  That's what I thought).  It really sucks when work acquaintances from other departments say they I heard I was pregnant and ask me how far long I am (clearly their source isn't up to date).  I spent like 10 minutes in the bathroom crying over that one.  Said person felt like a jackass when I told them what happened, so I know she REALLY had no idea. 

Husband has been super helpful and understanding of just how insane I am.  I think we've only had one fight during all of this, which was started over money and then all of my issues came out.  It also helps that the pollen has been complete hell this year.  This is pretty much how I feel:

I've started keeping dead plants outside just to let every other one know that if they feel the need to leave their pollen on my front lawn, they will die.  None shall survive.  They have been warned. Amongst all the congestion and phlegm, Husband and I went to the beach.  Guys, I could breathe without anything rattling around in my chest for the first time in like....a month.  We've been to the beach three weeks in a row on our days off, it's been great.  I have tan lines again.  We're trying to plan a few days out at the beach, but we need to do it on the cheap.  Anyone has a condo we could borrow?

So that's pretty much what we've been up to.  We had a poker party last week and I won!  We've had three or four at our house now and I've either won three out of four, or all three. I can't remember.  Either way, Husband and I have enjoyed several date nights.  Anyone else down to join poker?  I'll be nice, I promise.

Today I went to see Dr. R for the HSC.  For those that don't know what that is, it's a hysteroscopy is when they stick a camera up into your uterus and make a youtube video.  No, seriously, they check for abnormalities and stuff.  Dr. R said he didn't see anything abnormal, but did see a bit of leftover tissue from MB, of which he promptly took a sample.  The whole thing took all of 15 minutes and was only a little uncomfortable.  I've schedule a follow up to review all the test results and stuff next week, so we'll form a plan then.  I have a very loose timeline now in my head of starting a FET (frozen egg transfer) cycle sometime in August.  We'll see what Dr. R thinks.  I kind of want another month where I'm not thinking about cycle days, injections or just generally worrying about my body.  We have a concert to attend in mid July and I really want to be able to have some drinks then.  Would it be cheaper to not have drinks?  Sure, but concerts are better when alcohol is involved..yes?

I think right now I'm on cycle day 10, but the only reason I'm aware of that is because my nurse mentioned it.  Otherwise, I don't really care what cycle day it is...I just care that about sleeping in.  It's nice to be normal for once.

Xoxo, guys.  My allergy medication is calling me.

Fake it till you make it

I've been trying to come up with an upbeat post for like...ever.  I feel like the last few posts have been a boo-hoo, poor Beth fest. For the life of me, I don't have much excitement in me.  The last few weeks have included a root canal (me), a migraine on our anniversary (Husband) and a wicked cold that has taken my voice for two days (Husband has been so pleased).  We bought tickets to the Dave.Mat.thews.Ba.nd show in Tam.pa that's coming in July.  I think Husband agreed to spend the money because I just need to look forward to something  The first show we went to was about six months after our first miscarriage and it was the first time I felt like myself in a long time.  I'd be lying if I told you that I'm not looking for the same result.  I just want to feel like myself again.

Going back to work was ok, but people kept coming up to me and giving me hugs and saying they're sorry.  I appreciate the support, but it was really nice when I was able to jump back into giving everyone a hard time.  It's our thing at work.  The meaner the jokes, the better the friend.  What?  I work with a bunch of guys, don't judge. 


We had our first appointment with the counselor, whom I will refer to as Dr. Spaghetti.  His hair looked like pasta on his head.  If you have curly hair, more power to you.  Just umm..do something with it.  Anyway, he was nice.  Maybe a little hippy-ish.  I'm going back on my own, since he deemed our marriage healthy and Husband as one of the most supportive husbands he's seen.  The first appointment didn't really blow me away, but I'm willing to give it another shot.

One annoying physical leftover from MB is that my boobs are lactating.  I was laying on Husband the other day and when I got up, my left boob was dripping.  It just pisses me off. It's a cruel reminder when part of me just wants to forget that I was pregnant.  We have MB's ultrasound and the embryo pictures still up on the fridge because Husband wants to keep them.  I just want to throw them away, they're reminders that I want to ignore.   A big part of me wants to forget that I was pregnant because maybe it wouldn't hurt to be reminded that I'm not.  So..forgive me if I don't comment on your baby pictures or pregnancy updates.  I just can't right now, but it doesn't mean that I don't care.  Christ on a stick, I hate sounding like this.

On a brighter note, I had a nice chat with my brother in law when Husband was down with his migraine.  Brother in law asked how I was doing and followed it up with "I hope you're not blaming yourself."  He kind of hit the nail on the head.  See, when this is is fresh and I have no answers, my mind goes automatically to blaming myself.  Maybe if I hadn't taken that hot shower...or what if I took one too many tylenol when I had that headache...should I not have lifted that case of beer?  All of these stupid questions add up to me trying to find a reason as to why MB died, why my body continues to betray me, that maybe it's something I'm doing.  Anyway, BIL (brother in law) said that it's not like I'm pulling some imaginary trigger.  That really clicked with me.  He's right.  I'm not sabotaging these pregnancies and this is not my fault.  I'm not doing drugs or drinking alcohol when I'm pregnant.  I'm not subconsciously killing our babies.   BIL and I are not particularly close, but sometimes you find support where you least expect it.  Big hug to him. 

So I'm in a delicate balance of putting myself back together.  Life goes on and I'm ok until I'm not, but then I circle my way back around to ok.  Now, excuse me, but a gigantic glass of wine and a chocolate bunny are calling me.  Xoxo, my peeps.  I leave you with this affirmation:

Seems legit!

Still kicking

I'm really not one for dogs, but I find this so appropriate right now.  I've been making myself get out of the house and to be around people.  I'm finding myself just sitting there while the conversation happens around me... I'm really not up to contributing anything meaningful. So far I've just been around family and one super close friend and they've all taken it easy on me. I'm so thankful for that.

I go back to work on Monday, but I don't feel ready at all. I want people to leave me alone, but be available for a hug at the same time.  Support me, but don't push me. On the other hand, maybe I need a little push. I don't know. We'll see what I can handle. I'm not ruling out the possibility of a breakdown, though. I like to keep my options open.

Speaking of a breakdown, I made an appointment with a therapist for Thursday. I'm anxious to get in there and maybe learn some coping skills. I'm going to try not to cry. I'm sick of crying.  Making the phone call was a little harder then I expected, but at least  made it. I am not ashamed of needing counseling, if anyone is wondering.

Well, this is a Debbie downer post.  I'll leave you with a pic of the delish margarita I had yesterday at 1130 am.  Again, no shame.  A little liquid  courage never hurt anyone. Xoxo

Survival

Several people have emailed or texted me to see how I'm doing.  I say I'm fine, but really I'm barely holding it together.  It's difficult being back at the beginning, right where I was seven years ago. A miscarriage, a surgery, no baby.  I feel like we've made zero progress.

People have asked why I chose to go with the D&C so quickly. Because multiple ultrasounds and waiting would have been torture. I wanted Dr. R to be able to get fetal tissue for genetic testing, which he did. In a couple of weeks we'll have those results and maybe a new plan. My only fear is that he'll come back with news that my body will always kill our babies and he can't help. Is that irrational? It doesn't feel like it.

Husband has been amazingly supportive. We are both sad and angry. I cry a lot, but I try not to cry around him. It's not that I can't lean on him, I just don't want to overwhelm him. Our anniversary is on the 14th and my birthday is on the 15th. I hate that we'll be fresh from losing MB.  I feel like I ruined our anniversary with miscarriage number four.

So that's where I am...Just surviving.  Tomorrow I'm going to start calling around to find a therapist. I'm smart enough to know I can't get through this shit on my own this time.

Before I end this, I just wanted to say thank you for all of the support. From my husband, our family, our friends and from perfect strangers. This is hard, but having such support makes it a tiny bit easier. We love you guys.

Speechless

I don't know what to say. I'm not in a very good place right now.  Tomorrow is the D&C. Dr. R is going to collect tissue and try to figure out why this keeps happening.  I just want this to be over so we can heal.

Maybe later I'll write about how excited we were, how we thought that this was it.  Right now I'd just like to thank Heidi for her sweet post,  all of my computer friends for their support, and our family for their love.  Y'all are floating me since I'm floundering in this sea of fucked up infertility.

Forgive me if I'm absent for awhile. Xoxo

Be still my heart

It's in there. One tiny nugget, just pitter pattering away.  MB's heartbeat was at 130 and measured exactly seven weeks.  I started out the appointment crying because I was sure MB was gone.  I do this, convince myself of the worst in order to avoid the fall.   Clearly, I was wrong.  The appointment ended with Husband crying and me sitting there in shock. Holy shit. A heartbeat and a normal embryo.

I have another ultrasound next Thursday and then I'm released to my regular OB. I don't want to be released.  Can't Dr. R deliver the baby himself? I'm sure sure he knows how.

So anyway. That was my day. I'm off to nap!  Xoxo

Word vomit and anxiety

Apologies for the additional silence. I've been struck with horrible morning sickness that has lasted all day, every day. Today was the first day that I've kept more than one meal down since Friday.  I'm very thankful for several doses of B6 and ginger ale. I've never had morning sickness before, maybe it's a good thing? I'm hopeful that it's under control now.

Other than that, things have been quiet over the last week. As far as I know, I'm still pregnant and things are trucking along. My ultrasound anxiety is slowly ratcheting up.  I'm genuinely afraid that something is going to be wrong. I'm afraid of not seeing MB in there, or the deafening silence of no heartbeat.  Someone talk me off this what if ledge,  I'm pretty far out there.  I feel like I won't be able to breathe until I know one way or the other.

See?  I'm freaking out. I'm going crazy. Husband tells me to trust the process, but it's hard when your body constantly fails you.  Ugg. I hate feeling this way.  Over the next 36 hours,  I vow to stay busy. Clean the the house, make dinner, take lots of naps.  Hell, I may even make cookies.... provided I don't vomit.

Paranoia

Can you say PTSD?  Yesterday my boobs didn't hurt quite as badly, so I immediately went into damage control mode.  I checked like crazy to see if I was bleeding (no) and symptom spotted throughout the day.  Nausea?  Yes, a little bit.  But was it as much as previous days? I don't know.  Then I would panic because I wasn't sure if my symptoms were going away, which means MB isn't making it.  OMG, I spent the day in a fit.  Not good.  I woke up this morning and my boobs are back in town along with some nausea and intense hunger (it's a delicate balance).

When were able to start trying after our first miscarriage, I cried the entire day the doctor gave me the all clear.  THE ENTIRE DAY.  I cried through lunch, through grocery shopping, everything.  I was so afraid I would be one of those women that has many miscarriages before having a baby.  I was scared of getting pregnant again, because now I knew that things don't work out so easily.  But then I became a woman with RPL (recurrent pregnancy loss), and even though it was hell, I survived. I try to act unaffected, like I'm not all in this process, but the truth is that I'm already attached to MB.  Maybe I just need to have a little (dare I say it) faith in the process and that things may work out.  We're certainly off to a good start...right?

Today I'm six weeks, which is wild.  This is when most women find out that they're pregnant, yet I've known for the better part of two weeks.  I'm not bleeding, I'm having some pregnancy symptoms.  The only aversion that seems to be popping up is to tomatoes.  I've never been a huge fan of tomatoes, but now I can't stand the taste or the texture.  So.gross.  I'm craving spicy foods at the moment, but the desire for a cheeseburger is in the background.  I still have to take it easy on carbs due to OHSS.  Last night I had some potatoes with dinner and I'm not in pain, so maybe I can start testing the waters. 

Our first ultrasound is in eight days.  I'm already nervous.  Keep your fingers crossed for a heartbeat!  Xoxo

Pre..Preg...Pregna...I can't say it

Sorry for the silence, friends.  Let it be known that OHSS will kick your ass for the better part of two weeks and you do NOT need to push yourself.  Three days in, I was thinking I could go back to work.  Wrong.  So wrong.  My plans of working were replaced by much resting in bed, many liters of water, a million protein shakes, and 56,984 daily naps.  I'm finally back to work and am able to breathe and move around without pain.  Taking a deep breath is glorious.

So with all that, I'm decidedly pregn..pregnant.  I can barely type it and I stumble over saying it to people. I'm not bleeding and all signs are pointing to something being in there and growing. I have delightful queasiness throughout the day, a tiny bit of cramping, and the boobs are sore.  I have interesting veins crisscrossing and it seems like they've gone up in size in the last week.  Helloooooooo pregnancy boobs!  Where you been all my life? I seem to have developed a little pooch, but I'm assuming it's leftover bloat from OHSS. That or I'm fat because I'm hungry ALL OF THE TIME (do you have pizza?). I've never been the skinniest girl, mind you.  But I've been the same size for about 4 years and now I need a belly band to comfortably wear my jeans.  Self esteem...so high.

Here are some particulars:

First beta came in at 42.  I panicked because OMG, that is low.  Nurse realized we were tested 9 days after transfer, she said we just needed to watch it.  I will test until the HCG level reaches 100.  Progesterone is 80.

Second beta comes in at 83.  Hmm.  So we're in doubling ballpark, ok.  Something might be happening in there.  Progesterone still in the 80s.  Day 11, post transfer.

Third beta jumps up to 214, this is day 13 post transfer.  Something is obviously cooking. Progesterone in the low 90s.

We have an ultrasound on the 27th to see if something's in there. I'll be 7 weeks on the 25th, according to the doctor. I have no idea how they figure this because the last time I had a period, it was January 2nd.  Or something like that.  I'm still a little concerned that my betas were so low, but I don't know.  I had a good jump and my doctor didn't seem to be concerned.  Should I follow his lead?

I've never had an ultrasound with a heartbeat.  That little detail seems elusive.  But hey, I'm not bleeding, which means I've made it further than my last two pregnancies.  Small miracles, people.

Hopefully I didn't jinx anything.  I'm going to go find some food.  Xoxo

Positive

The title says it all. It's only 9 days post transfer, so let's not get ahead of ourselves. Husband and I are cautiously optimistic, but we're off to a good start.

Monday with Mara

Monday with Mara is on hiatus since I'm in pain. Lots of fluid in my belly and around my kidneys. Bedrest for a week and massive amounts of protein are prescribed. Until next time... Xoxo

The friend I never wanted to meet

OHSS.  I'll be damned, I thought I had it licked. I started feeling uncomfortable on Thursday, noticed a swollen belly yesterday and today it's even bigger. So hot. It hurts to lay down, sit up, stand up straight and the seatbelt on the drive home is uncomfortable.

My blogging bff Heidi likes a silver lining, so this one's for you.  The on call doctor said that if ohss appears this late in the game, I have a greater than 50% chance of being the p-word. Don't say it. Just think it.

Right now I'm downing fluids and will be seeing my RE tomorrow without a doubt. I'm stoked... Don't step in the puddle of sarcasm.

Until I can fit into regular pants again... Xoxo

Maybe Baby

It's weird when you see your own blastocyst.  We've seen pictures, but when it's YOURS, oh my.  My first thought was 'it's so cute' but then I caught myself and realized I've got to to be logical about this.  It's no bigger than a spec of dust.  All six of our embryos made it to the blastocyst state, which impressed the doctor.  The one we transferred was very hearty and will hopefully decide to stick around for the next 40 weeks or so.  Without further delay, here is MB (short for Maybe Baby):

MB,  please turn into a DB (definite baby)

So that's what we're workin with.  It's encouraging that the doctor was impressed with MB, my lining, our embryo quality.  She even mentioned that Husband was handsome (umm, duh.  He's MY husband).  Encouraging is nice, but it's not a guarantee.  I'm kind of wishing I had a guarantee, but I'll take encouraging, for what it's worth.  If MB doesn't stick around, then we have five more blasties on ice.  Five more chances.

People have been asking how I'm feeling.  Ok, I guess.  Nervous.  Excited.  Crinone is disgusting, but I'm not going to go into it because not EVERYONE needs to know about my lady bits.  Mostly, I'm feeling really proud of myself, my husband, and our marriage.  I'm so proud that I made it through this with about as much sanity as when this whole thing started.

I was afraid of IVF for a long time.  Afraid of the shots, money, emotional distress...everything.  Yes, the shots suck donkey balls.  The side effects are not a walk in the park, especially at the end when everything piled up on me and I could barely work.  Yes, the money sucks, but keep your eyeballs on the prize (see MB).  You know what, though?  Having Husband with me, by my side, pushing me with every shot and holding me through every tear made this so much more bearable.  Infertility is a shit fest and it tests the best of marriages, ours included.  I'm not sure that we would have found out that our relationship is so strong without it, though.  Silver lining?  Definitely.

Anyway.  Thanks for letting me toot our horns, so to speak.   Beta is on March 7th.  Here's hoping MB is a sticky baby!! 

Xoxo

Monday with Mara

Keeping in mind that we are preparing for transfer, I'll leave you with funny pictures of Mara and friends.  Xoxo

Jaina's get ready to go sit

If she fits, she ships

He sucks you in with his cuteness

Mom, you missed a spot on the floor.

Caaaaaaatnnipppppppp

I guess when Dad naps, you nap

Retrieval

I "woke up" the morning of retrieval exhausted.  I quote "woke up" because I got like zero sleep.  I was running through every possible scenario in my head.  Maybe I ovulated early...the doctor did say I had a very good response to the trigger shot.  Maybe this possible itch (you know what I mean, ladies) will cause the whole thing to be canceled.  What if the anesthesia doesn't work (it's always a fear, don't judge)?  Just GO!

So I suck it up and arrive at the center at 630am,with the hope that a juicebox is in my near future.  The OR nurse was quite possibly the sweetest nurse on the face of the earth.  She didn't think I was crazy when I started to cry, she was kind enough to go through of the procedure with me, and most importantly, it didn't hurt when she put the IV in.  And she let me take a vicodin before going into the OR.  Who could ask for more? 

Husband came in next and we talk with the anesthesiologist, who is all of 12 years old.  And kinda cute, but let's save that for later.  He was nice and was completely willing to knock me out.  My kind of guy.   Then of all sudden, we're off, it's time to get this show on the road.  I walk into a cold room with a table and like five people.  This is where things start to get fuzzy.  Dr. Cutie gave me some drugs to relax me since I was on the verge of a panic attack and I did the following:

• Asked if he was married
• Told him he was hot
• Apologized for flashing the nurse on our first date

Classy, Beth.  So classy.  Apparently during the procedure, I asked what time it was, but I have no memory of it.  I said I didn't want to remember anything and I'll be damned if those drugs didn't work.  I hung out for an hour, got my juicebox, and came home.  My poor ovaries were so angry, and I'm still a little sore, but things are getting better each day.  I'm still under orders for lots of rest and relaxation, no heavy lifting, that sort of thing.  And just fyi, progesterone shots suck.  If you're not in the know, you better ice your ass beforehand because that is a big frickin needle. 

They were able to retrieve 11 eggs and we now have six, snuggly embryos in a petri dish well on their way to the blastocyst stage.  At first I was disappointed at..six?  Only six?  I thought my eggs must suck, but I was in a little bit of shock when the nurse told me so I didn't ask.  She called the next day to say we were going to move transfer to Monday, day five, and reminded me that the most important thing is that the little Weezys are healthy and we still have a lot of chances. She's right, but I wanted like 20 eggs, with 15 embryos. I had it all planned out in my head, but you know what they say about plans.  Turns out my eggs don't suck, only two of them did and the lab decided not to use them.  Two of the regularly fertilized embryos started to grow, but sort of crapped out.  A single lucky one made it, the rest were all fertilized with ICSI.  

Tomorrow is transfer day and we would appreciate good thoughts and vibes.  Maybe even prayers, if you're into that sort of thing. 

Husband took this lovely picture right before I went in...and promptly put it on face.book.  Ugg.  Ignore the fat face, I blame IVF drugs.

Did someone say good drugs?