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| The Good, The Bad and The Befuddling |
| 04.29.04 (11:15 am) [edit] |
We had our first post-positive appointment with the RE today. We were shocked when she took us to the ultrasound room. We didn't expect one today.
We found good news and potentially bad news.
The good news!! The pregnancy looks GOOD! It is deeply implanted, a little bigger than she expected and is overall fantastic! If this was a Fertile's pregnancy, it would be "picture perfect" with no reason to worry. And we got a teensy little baby picture to take home. Little fella is barely a centimeter wide.
The bad news... we now know, with almost 100% certainty why I have had all of my miscarriages.
I have a previously undetected irregularly shaped uterus. She doesn't know if it is arcuate or septate, but it is one or the other, definitely has a slight heart shape. If it is arcuate, this pregnancy will likely be just fine. Breech/c-section is likely, but healthy.
BUT...
If it is septate, there is an 80-90% chance it will fail within the next few weeks.
If it does fail though, she will do surgery and correct the shape and I shouldn't have a problem again (theoretically). So the bad news has a silver lining, if you look at it just right, through crystalline bleary eyes. I am FURIOUS with my 1st opinion RE for never catching this very important detail.
The "woods" don't end for another 8 weeks. That's a long time, and a LOT of waiting. Our next ultrasound is Wednesday at 7:45am.
One baby step at a time.
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| The Line |
| 04.29.04 (4:35 am) [edit] |
With the results of the two betas doing what I hoped for and my visit to the RE today to learn our next step, I find myself increasingly torn.
I am happy for me. I am happy for Brad.
But there are a lot of people for whom I want more. Many of whom I consider very good friends, although we've never met. People who deserve this happiness as much or more than I do.
I still have the kneejerk reaction to pregnant women, especially pregnancies of the Fertiles, those who breathed differently and got pregnant without a single worry. I still envy them their peace of mind. "Oh, I worry about my pregnancy," they say. Sure you do, honey. But fortunately, you don't have a clue what worrying TRULY means.
I have this reaction to pregnant women, and then I remember the envy I had while still trying. The difference is huge. And then I think of my friends who are still trying and I feel an incredible wave of guilt and remorse. I wish they were all in this situation, and I am always going to be pulling for them in the largest capacity my thoughts allow.
I just don't feel that is enough.
It is a fine line between sharing your good news and hurting those you love very much. I apologize from the bottom of my heart when that line is crossed. It is now your turn, and I won't stop wishing for that.
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| Unfamiliar Ground |
| 04.27.04 (2:26 pm) [edit] |
My 2nd beta doubled.
211.
I am in a quandry. A happy, joyous, confused, terrifed quandry. I have grown so accustomed to being the "Average Non-Threatening Angst-Ridden Infertile" I honestly don't know how to handle this change in course. I am sure I will figure it out, but until then...
WOW. My mind's a blank.
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| History |
| 04.27.04 (4:46 am) [edit] |
While I am waiting for Beta #2 to arrive, I thought I would give a history of our journey to this point.
I wanted children from an early age. My mother remembers me telling her I wanted a baby when I was not quite two years old. She thought it meant I wanted a sibling. So she gave me my brother, Donnie, who became my best friend (although I mommied him to a spoiled state.)
As I got older, my mindset changed.
When Brad and I first got married, we swore that neither of us wanted children. We liked sleeping in, we loved hogging the video games to ourselves, we loved seeing R rated movies whenever we wanted. It suited us. Besides, kids are dirty, they always seem to have crud around their noses and they are loud.
That was then.
What changed this was a birthday and a death in the family.
Brad turned 30 the year his father passed away. It was heartbreaking and resonated loudly that life is fleeting. We realized our mortality and that all the little reasons for not wanting a child were selfish and misdirected.
Truth was, we both wanted to be parents after all.
So in December 2001, we embarked on the trials of trying to conceive. All you do is stop the birth control and then you have a baby.... right?
Boy were we arrogant.
A few months went by with nothing, then in April 2002 I got pregnant. We were relieved because after ALL THOSE THREE WHOLE MONTHS, we were scared we were never going to have a child. Yeah, 3 whole whopping months, what amateurs.
It didn't matter, though. Before I ever got a reasonable beta, my period arrived. I was sad, but you know, this happens sometimes and the next one is just fine!
So we waited the obligatory one month to ttc again, then started with the temping, the OPK'ing, the fancy contortions suitable to conceiving, blah blah..
I got pregnant again in July 2002. This one gave me a postive pregnancy test. I called my doctor's office and her nurse said:
"Oh we don't need to run a blood test, the positive urine pregnancy test is OUR BIBLE around here."
Satisfied with this answer, we proceeded to tell everyone we knew.
I started cramping the next day, so I asked for a blood test. After the blood draw, I used the hospital restroom and VOILA! Blood. I freaked out and told a nurse. Her response was a cold, "Oh, it sounds like you are miscarrying!"
Reality hit me in the jaw with a firm right hook. This wasn't as easy as it looked on TV. I was devastated, and telling the hoardes of people it was over was even harder.
That was when I found the support boards. It was the only thing that kept my sanity in check. I found a community of women who had been through the same things I had. They answered all the questions I had, and helped me start to repair the shabby, torn edges my emotions had developed. Before long, they became close friends.
It wasn't until December 2002 that I got pregnant again. This time was assisted by Clomid and Prometrium. It was Christmas, and we were in Dallas, Texas, visiting my family. I got the +OPK on Christmas morning. We robotically completed our task of baby-making sex before going to Grandma's house. Brad was sick with a severe cold, so we were positive that it didn't work.
Lo and behold, two weeks later a positive pregnancy test! I felt pregnant. Nausea, dizziness, the stretching-pulling-aching . The first beta was 25. Not terrible. Progesterone was 109!!! HOLY CRAP!!
Having been burned by the last pregnancy, we told no one. Good thing too. The second beta, three days later, was 48. It went downhill fast from there. The pregnancy was gone as fast as it had arrived.
I went into a deep depression. I missed school, I missed work, I withdrew from society. Brad had become sullen. He chose to not dwell on the losses as his means of coping. I envied that capability. I would cry in the shower. I would cry in the car on the way ANYWHERE. I would collapse into a crumpled heap in the bed with the curtains drawn and cry for hours until I was dehydrated and my eyes were swollen shut. I was a wreck.
Once again, my support board helped me back on my feet. These faceless friends from all over the globe talked me back up. The whole stage played out from sorrow to fury to fear and desperation. They were there to tell me it was ok to feel this way. That was all it took.
That was when we were referred to our first RE. She gave us hope, and gave ME a shitload of tests. Lots of blood tests, lots of intrusive, humiliating and painful tests... lots of tests. They found nothing but a few trifle "borderline" causes which they treated me for.
In the meantime, I got a job with a company that was primarily composed of highly prolific women. Pregnant bellies EVERYWHERE!!
I got pregnant after we were "released" from our medically-induced conception break. Wow, I thought. This new job is contagious!! Know what happened? I got pregnant in July 2003. We were in Dallas, Texas, visiting my brand new beautiful nephew, Donnie's little boy. We told Donnie and his wife about the pregnancy.
And then lost it right after pregnancy test #3 told us the pregnancy was biological crap. I never made it to beta #1.
That was when two of my internet-support board friends encouraged me to try acupuncture. I started in September of 2003, the month I turned 32.
My Chinese doctor told me to take a break from trying to have a child. My body was worn out and needed a rest. I couldn't have agreed more. She worked me over, healing my asthma, healing my blood circulation, healing the physical damage all the miscarriages had taken on my body. I felt confident.
We started trying again in December 2003.
Then many of my friends became pregnant at once. BAM! Without warning. I hadn't even had so much as a glimmer of a 2nd line on any tests. I knew this was a sign. There was no way my body would support a pregnancy. I was toast.
I went into the deepest, darkest depression I had ever known. I couldn't be happy for anyone's pregnancy as fully as I had in the past. Every ounce of happiness for them was met with two-fold envy and self-loathing. My emotions were a cancer that was feeding on my self-esteem. Crying for no apparent reason became common. Some call this stage "Rock Bottom". Someone I have grown to respect deeply told me it is the stage where you mourn your fertility. She was completely 100% on the money.
What turned me around? Brad.
We went on a much-needed vacation to Sanibel Island, Florida, in March 2004. We had a great time. We drank, we sunburned, we slept... a lot. But one huge turning point occurred that weekend.
While laying on the beach, Brad and I were watching a small family playing frisbee. Perhaps it was the booze, perhaps it was the mire that he wanted me out of, but Brad turned to me and said "One more year, if we aren't pregnant, let's look into adoption."
I started thinking and becoming hopeful again.
When we got back home, we had a long talk and I realized what a nightmare I had become. I didn't even like myself anymore, how could anyone else stand me? I hadn't even realized what a dreadful toll my own emotions had taken on my husband. I vowed then and there to feel more positive and not let stress get to me anymore. I vowed to not to take for granted the important things in my life anymore.
I felt good again.
That was when we saw our 2nd opinion RE. She was the glue that helped make firm the vow I'd made. She said everything I needed to hear: there is still hope.
I started being more dedicated to following the advice of my Chinese doctor. I forced myself to not dwell on negativity anymore (that was hard as hell at first.) I made myself laugh again.
Even if it meant cynical humor.
Then someone incredible happened this week. I can't even begin to fathom the possibility that any of it is coincidence.
I know that this pregnancy could end, just like the others did. I know that I could get my hopes up only to have the rug yanked out from under me. I live with this fear every second. But I vow this to my unborn child and to my husband that I will enjoy every single minute of this pregnancy, even if it is short-lived. I feel that I at least owe this to the little cluster of energy that has been trying for so long to grow inside me.
And that brings us up to date. I hope the next chapter can keep this momentum.
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| BETA!!! |
| 04.26.04 (10:46 am) [edit] |
Holy P Diddy on a Pogostick!!! My first beta is 106!!!!! I am stunned by this!!! Never ever ever have I gotten anywhere close to this. The best I have ever had was top 40s and that was a 2nd beta.
I get the results of the very important 2nd beta tomorrow. Fingers crossed for a doubling act.
*whew* This MIGHT happen... ?
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| The clock is ticking veeery slowly. |
| 04.26.04 (6:27 am) [edit] |
Here's an update. I still dont have my beta results from Saturday, should get them today when I go in for my 2nd betas. Meanwhile, I am still getting ever-darkening HPTs and for the love all that is good in the world, my basal temps are still high. And I feel like vomiting.
Oh, and I am still terrifed.
May 5 will be the big milestone. That is, making past the date of my longest sustained pregnancy to date, December 2002, which lasted a grand total of 37 days (from period). Will I succeed it? If I knew that answer, I'd be a rich woman from all the horse track bets I placed.
I will keep you posted as I know more.
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| Everyone who is terrified, raise your hand. |
| 04.23.04 (1:12 pm) [edit] |
*hand shoots straight up*
I just got a positive pregnancy test. *gulp* Terrified.... scared shitless... FLOORED. I honestly did NOT expect this, this month. Really. This is the first time I have had a positive pregnancy test since last July. Holy shit.
My beta is scheduled for 8:30am tomorrow morning. Please wish me luck, I need it.
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| A Man's Guide to Hormonal Women |
| 04.19.04 (7:25 pm) [edit] |
Scenario: Your special lady walks into the room. She is frowning. What is wrong?
I will tell you what is wrong. There is a little evil poison in her body. It is called Estrogen. It flourishes at certain times of the month. It makes her angry, it makes her sad, it makes her happy, it makes her insane, it makes her calm. Most importantly, it makes her not know what she is TRULY feeling and what she is imagining.
[i]So what do I do?[/i]
First, you wipe that smug look off your face. Why don't you ever smile at me anymore? You don't love me, do you? I knew it, you are tired of me. I whine too much. Our marriage is a sham and it is all my fault. Of course if you would say I am pretty once in a while I might feel better and then I wouldn't worry all the time. But you have your video games, and I want you to be happy. I know you love that game, and you are so cute when you are smiling. Do you think I am cute? Watch me prance across the room in my shorty nightgown! I am giggling like a little girl! Teehee! Do you see me? Are you watching? You're ignoring me. Why don't you want to ravish me? Am I not good enough? Wait, why are you touching me? Don't you know my boobs are sore? You are so insensitive! I am going to go cry. I am crying!!! You can't hear me? I am crying LOUDER!!! Why am I crying? What's wrong with me? I must be insane. Holy crap, I am nuts. I am certifiably nuts. I need counseling.
So in summary, my good man, the answer lies within yourself. If you trust the green of a leaf, or the whisper of the wind, then you will know the path of the righteous.
Or you could just walk over and hug her. A nice, loving hug that doesn't feel obligatory. That will probably do the trick.
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| Progesterone--The Intoxicant for the Hopeful |
| 04.15.04 (7:07 am) [edit] |
I am today 4dpo. The Prometrium began yesterday. It is more of a precaution than anything. I don't ACTUALLY expect that I am pregnant this month, and if I am, I am dubious as to how much these precious gumballs will really do.
That being said, I must add "WOOOOHOOOO!!" to my testimony.
Because this month, Prometrium has the distinct effect of "drunk head". OOH boy. Do I feel drunk.
Not the fun drunk that historically has me climbing up to the bar to sing my a capella tribute to Patsy Cline. Not the sad drunk that weeps into the toilet while pondering the question, "How much more could I possibly have left in my stomach?" But the drunk that leaves visual echos behind your eyes. The kind that produces "the spins". The kind I really like.
Like all good things, there is a side effect to all this gaiety.
I am volatile. Like a Rottweiler when you try to take away the hunk of turkey he stole from the family dinner table. I do, in fact, have the feature of "mean drunk".
I find myself engaging in barfights in my head. This morning I mentally ranted for a few hours at the bimbo bitch at Home Depot who has repeatedly messed up our kitchen project and who had the GALL to post a snotty comment on our account, "Everytime [they] come in, there is something new that is wrong." I mentally wrote a scathing letter to the store manager, to Home Depot's corporate HQ and to the Bitch Herself, with such venom as to knock out an entire region. I found myself looking at my fist and thinking how nice it would feel to make contact with the Bitch's smug left jaw.
Jolly candy-like gumball of mind-altering hormones, oh how I love you.
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| Happy Sunshine Day! |
| 04.12.04 (11:06 am) [edit] |
*STRETTTTTCH*
I awakened this morning to the twittering of a fawn-shaded chickadee, chirp-chirruping from outside.
"Hello, little bird! Why, what a lovely day!" I said, lazily waving. She twittered back and then flew away to play with her other chickadee friends.
Smiling, I readied myself for the day. The sun had made a special arrangement to shine just for me.
Bunnies and fluffy kittens gathered at my boudoir window to watch as I brushed my glistening locks, and the perfect outfit adorned my body. I hummed a little tune to entertain my fuzzy little audience.
I kissed my darling husband to awaken him for his day. He yawned and together we sang our Good Mornings in perfect harmony. We clutched hands and spun around merrily.
A twinkle gleamed from my face. He smiled at me and a sparkle of light danced in the corner of his eye. You could hear the harps and violins softly strumming a melody.
...because I am in the 2 week-wait, and golly gee willikers, I just know I will be pregnant THIS time.
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| Gender selection made easy! |
| 04.06.04 (4:24 pm) [edit] |
I came across this today. [url=http://www.aia-zavos.com/gend...]The Gender Selection Kit[/url].
For $975 (a bargain!) you can send off for a BioTranz Semen Shipper and ship your darling life partner's ten-minute porn workout to the Andrology Lab. They will separate the boys from the girls, ship it back to you and in nine months--voila! custom-ordered baby! It's easy!!
To make it easier, they send you an ultra-cool Male Factor Pak (you can tell it is hip because "pack" is mischievously spelled without the "c") that includes a special condom. So you have sex, but all the magic takes place in Kentucky! They throw the winning team the pitch back to your place with an Artificial Insemination Kit!!!
In case your partner is a virgin or is afraid of blindness, they provide [url=http://www.aia-zavos.com/semc...]ample instructions on semen collection[/url] . 15 steps, including the first spine-shuddering step, "Have small, clean scissors available.."
But what really tempts me is the image of a [url=http://www.aia-zavos.com/sp-a...]robot hand holding the sperm who is trying desperately to escape[/url] . Symbolic? You bet your sweet ass.
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| Roadside Pondering |
| 04.03.04 (4:59 am) [edit] |
Yesterday morning, my 2000 VW Jetta decided to become cranky. It overheated. So I pulled off to the side of the road and called Brad who in turn contacted a mechanic and towing company.
While sitting on the side of the interstate, waiting for the tow truck to arrive, I had plenty of time to really listen to the pop music eminating from my radio. I would like very much to know why "punk" has degenerated into a mass-produced glob of whining pre-pube posers?
I have a few things to say to some of the "artists" out there.
For the boys in the band Simple Plan who wrote:
[i]Hey dad look at me.
Think back and talk to me
Did I grow up according to plan?
And do you think I'm wasting my time...
Doing things I wanna do
But it hurts when you disapprove all along.[/i]
Stop sniveling. Someone actually allowed you to record this piece of crap and all you did was whine about your Dad not approving. My advice: get into a bar fight and grow some pubes.
To Avril Lavigne:
[i]Did you think that i was gonna give it up to you, this timeeeee
Did you think that there was something i was gonna do then cryyy
Don't try to tell me what to do, dont try to tell me what to say
You're better of that way[/i]
Don't try so damn hard to be the Anti-Britney. Yeah, we get it. She's a slut, you're not. She's pop, you're hardcore. Blah blah BLAH. I appreciate that you are giving young impressionable girls a voice for just saying no to teenage sex, but I don't want you to call yourself a punk anymore, mmmkay? Johnny Rotten said "Sex is dirty!!" but he never sang a ballad about it. And that's Johnny ROTTEN, pronounced "Rah-ten". Google that name.
And to all the number bands out there:
You aren't original. Your band name has a number. If your number is Blink 182, there are probably another 181 other Blink bands out there, right? Riiiiight. Come up with a real band name already. Tagging on a number is just cheap. And stop whining.
I miss The Clash.
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