There was a heartbeat!
You could have knocked me over when the doctor said that. Apparently it was a subchorionic hematoma. She said its position should not affect the pregnancy. I go again on Tuesday to check the heartbeat, and in the meantime I am supposed to take it easy.
I am in shock. I am never that girl, the one who gets the reprieve. I feel so lucky. I am not out of the woods yet (not even close), but at least I am still in it with a chance.
So grateful.
Sunday, August 30, 2015
Angry
i am so angry. So betrayed and hurt and surprised. And then angry that I feel all those things again.
I got my first positive at 9dpo- faint, but there.
Beta was at 14dpo- 108! My best beta ever (sad I know).
Beta at 16dpo - 204...not quite doubling, but a stone's throw from where it should be. The nurse scoffed at me when I expressed my concern.
22dpo- ultrasound shows sac the right size and place. I start to panic due to flashbacks of my blighted ovum which was just a sac. But nurse repeatedly assured me they saw exactly what they needed to/should at this point. Beta comes back at 1540. Cue more panic because a doubling time of only 57 hours, but nurse again says it is fine and not to worry. Despite all odds, I actually do put my worry aside. I figure I am being ridiculous and chasing trouble. I have never been a beta rockstar and the nurse seems confident.
Last night. 5w6d. Walking back from dinner during a "romantic getaway" with my husband and I feel a gush as I walk. It vaguely reminds me of my period, but I dismiss as probably the joy of vaginal suppositories. I head to the bathroom and am covered in blood. Thick, dark red, unmistakeable. I could not even really cry because my shock was so real.
If it had stopped at one gush, I might still have hope. The on-call doctor tried to give me hope when I called. My lack of cramping was a good thing. But then, I did have cramping. Not in my stomach, but my lower back, just like my period. And the blood kept coming. Heavy...filling up one pad, then two, then three. More than I can remember ever seeing at one time.
It's stopped now. At least, I think it has. It lasted all of about three hours; by midnight last night it was for the most part over. And now I sit in a super crowded doctor's office, full of people with hope for their iui and their monitoring bloodwork. And I am dying inside.
My third miscarriage in 14 months. No two the same. A chemical, a blighted ovum, a "typical" bleed. All completely sucky.
I am different too. Bitter. Not sure I can do this again. I have a beautiful son. I have a life I keep putting on hold. I have pounds of depression/pregnancy weight I have gained from non-viable pregnancies that I want to lose. Maybe the time has come to move on. Take control of the things I can control and be fulfilled with what I have. Maybe.
But for now, I am angry and bitter and betrayed.
I got my first positive at 9dpo- faint, but there.
Beta was at 14dpo- 108! My best beta ever (sad I know).
Beta at 16dpo - 204...not quite doubling, but a stone's throw from where it should be. The nurse scoffed at me when I expressed my concern.
22dpo- ultrasound shows sac the right size and place. I start to panic due to flashbacks of my blighted ovum which was just a sac. But nurse repeatedly assured me they saw exactly what they needed to/should at this point. Beta comes back at 1540. Cue more panic because a doubling time of only 57 hours, but nurse again says it is fine and not to worry. Despite all odds, I actually do put my worry aside. I figure I am being ridiculous and chasing trouble. I have never been a beta rockstar and the nurse seems confident.
Last night. 5w6d. Walking back from dinner during a "romantic getaway" with my husband and I feel a gush as I walk. It vaguely reminds me of my period, but I dismiss as probably the joy of vaginal suppositories. I head to the bathroom and am covered in blood. Thick, dark red, unmistakeable. I could not even really cry because my shock was so real.
If it had stopped at one gush, I might still have hope. The on-call doctor tried to give me hope when I called. My lack of cramping was a good thing. But then, I did have cramping. Not in my stomach, but my lower back, just like my period. And the blood kept coming. Heavy...filling up one pad, then two, then three. More than I can remember ever seeing at one time.
It's stopped now. At least, I think it has. It lasted all of about three hours; by midnight last night it was for the most part over. And now I sit in a super crowded doctor's office, full of people with hope for their iui and their monitoring bloodwork. And I am dying inside.
My third miscarriage in 14 months. No two the same. A chemical, a blighted ovum, a "typical" bleed. All completely sucky.
I am different too. Bitter. Not sure I can do this again. I have a beautiful son. I have a life I keep putting on hold. I have pounds of depression/pregnancy weight I have gained from non-viable pregnancies that I want to lose. Maybe the time has come to move on. Take control of the things I can control and be fulfilled with what I have. Maybe.
But for now, I am angry and bitter and betrayed.
Sunday, August 9, 2015
The Panic is Setting In...
I tested today. 4dp3dt (7DPO). Why?!? Why?! I don't think I have ever tested this early. Logically, I know it is not that likely to get a positive this early. And really, I had intended not to test at all except for the day of the beta. So why, why, why did I do this to myself (and more importantly, why am I letting it bother me)?
Ok...I kind of know why. The luxury of the "borderline" day. You know, most likely too early to get a positive, but still actually possible to get a positive. I call these days 7-9. Actually, I usually call these days 8-9. I have always firmly believed 7 was too early for a positive. But then, when I was trying to reassure myself of this fact, I turned to my goodfriend enabler Google and found the site countdowntopregnancy.com. And according to them, the odds of getting a positive at 7dpo is actually 20%. 20%. That seems pretty good! So, like an addict, I broke out my pee sticks and tested. Erm...twice. And of course, blankety blank blank.
Argh. Now the panic is setting in. Of course I know a negative today does not really mean anything. I was negative with my son from 5dp3dt through 7dp3dt....so I know that things could definitely still be good. But seeing that blank test today made a negative outcome seem like a real and concrete possibility now. And between my completely failed FET, my chemical and my blighted ovum, I think I have pee stick PTSD. I am so scared of getting more blank tests, or even getting light tests (although - to be clear - I am MUCH more afraid of the blank ones). I've already decided that if I (please G-d) get a positive test, I will stop testing. But should I even be testing in the meantime? What if that positive doesn't come? I honestly don't know if my heart (and my husband) can handle it.
I wish I could say I am not going to test tomorrow. Or that I am going to throw out my tests. Or that I will be okay if I still have negatives once I no longer have borderline days as a buffer. But I know none of that is true. However, what is true is that I still have a chance no matter what today's test said. And that is what I need to focus on moving forward.
Ok...I kind of know why. The luxury of the "borderline" day. You know, most likely too early to get a positive, but still actually possible to get a positive. I call these days 7-9. Actually, I usually call these days 8-9. I have always firmly believed 7 was too early for a positive. But then, when I was trying to reassure myself of this fact, I turned to my good
Argh. Now the panic is setting in. Of course I know a negative today does not really mean anything. I was negative with my son from 5dp3dt through 7dp3dt....so I know that things could definitely still be good. But seeing that blank test today made a negative outcome seem like a real and concrete possibility now. And between my completely failed FET, my chemical and my blighted ovum, I think I have pee stick PTSD. I am so scared of getting more blank tests, or even getting light tests (although - to be clear - I am MUCH more afraid of the blank ones). I've already decided that if I (please G-d) get a positive test, I will stop testing. But should I even be testing in the meantime? What if that positive doesn't come? I honestly don't know if my heart (and my husband) can handle it.
I wish I could say I am not going to test tomorrow. Or that I am going to throw out my tests. Or that I will be okay if I still have negatives once I no longer have borderline days as a buffer. But I know none of that is true. However, what is true is that I still have a chance no matter what today's test said. And that is what I need to focus on moving forward.
Thursday, August 6, 2015
Here I go again...
Bless me internet, for I have lapsed. It has been over 2 years since my last posting.
I don't know why I am posting. Or what I am expecting. I think the only reader I might still have is my sister (*waves hello*). But on the same token, infertility sucks. And you know what sucks just as much as infertility...secondary infertility.And I just feel like venting. So, anyway, here I go (again)...
I would never say it is worse. There is NOTHING worse than that fear that you will never be a mother. But that is not to say that secondary fertility is easy. First, you feel guilty. You remember what it was like to have primary infertility. I can't tell you how many secondary infertility blogs I quickly clicked off with an eye roll and "get over yourself" thought when I was going through primary infertility. But now that I am here, I get it. It sucks. Sorry. But having gone through primary infertility, the fact that you are even complaining about wanting a second baby makes you feel like the worst, most greediest person in the world. Of course you are blessed. Of course you are grateful for the miracle that is your child. Yet you want more. And you feel incredibly guilty for that.
Second, when you are going through primary infertility, people kind of *get* it. They understand that yearning to be a mother. But when you have secondary infertility, it's not the same. I can't tell you how many people have told me H is "such a blessing" and "even if he is my only child, I am so lucky". I hear you. I get it. See my above paragraph about the guilt. However on the same token, all these people that are telling me to be happy to have one and it will happen if/when G-d plans, seem just a tad hypocritical because they got to have the family size/spacing/etc of their choice. So not only are you going through the struggle, but you feel slightly more alone, guilty, and judged.
Third, all infertility is not created equally. My first time, it turns out, I had relatively "easy" infertility (oh how past B would totally punch present B in the face for typing that). But seriously, it was extremely painful and hard, but when we finally did IVF, it worked. I now realize how incredibly, incredibly lucky that was. This time has been much more emotionally charged. I am 16 months in, have 2 Failed FETs (well, one BFN, and one blighted ovum) and one natural chemical. Plus, I had another fresh IVF that resulted in a freeze all on day 3 instead of 5 because they looked "average at best". It gets really scary when these "Big Guns" don't work. Because what is left?
Anyway, despite this brain dump of pessimism, I actually don't feel as bleak as this sounds. I am currently in the TWW after an FET (my third so far since having H in 2013). We are using the "average at best" embryos which miraculously looked "excellent" yesterday. They are a 7 cell and an 8 cell. My son H, was a 3 day 8 cell embryo, so I have to say, I felt optimistic yesterday looking at the photo. It reminded me so much of that time 3 years ago when this was all still new, unknown, and most importantly, worked. Please please, may this third time be the charm.
I don't know why I am posting. Or what I am expecting. I think the only reader I might still have is my sister (*waves hello*). But on the same token, infertility sucks. And you know what sucks just as much as infertility...secondary infertility.And I just feel like venting. So, anyway, here I go (again)...
I would never say it is worse. There is NOTHING worse than that fear that you will never be a mother. But that is not to say that secondary fertility is easy. First, you feel guilty. You remember what it was like to have primary infertility. I can't tell you how many secondary infertility blogs I quickly clicked off with an eye roll and "get over yourself" thought when I was going through primary infertility. But now that I am here, I get it. It sucks. Sorry. But having gone through primary infertility, the fact that you are even complaining about wanting a second baby makes you feel like the worst, most greediest person in the world. Of course you are blessed. Of course you are grateful for the miracle that is your child. Yet you want more. And you feel incredibly guilty for that.
Second, when you are going through primary infertility, people kind of *get* it. They understand that yearning to be a mother. But when you have secondary infertility, it's not the same. I can't tell you how many people have told me H is "such a blessing" and "even if he is my only child, I am so lucky". I hear you. I get it. See my above paragraph about the guilt. However on the same token, all these people that are telling me to be happy to have one and it will happen if/when G-d plans, seem just a tad hypocritical because they got to have the family size/spacing/etc of their choice. So not only are you going through the struggle, but you feel slightly more alone, guilty, and judged.
Third, all infertility is not created equally. My first time, it turns out, I had relatively "easy" infertility (oh how past B would totally punch present B in the face for typing that). But seriously, it was extremely painful and hard, but when we finally did IVF, it worked. I now realize how incredibly, incredibly lucky that was. This time has been much more emotionally charged. I am 16 months in, have 2 Failed FETs (well, one BFN, and one blighted ovum) and one natural chemical. Plus, I had another fresh IVF that resulted in a freeze all on day 3 instead of 5 because they looked "average at best". It gets really scary when these "Big Guns" don't work. Because what is left?
Anyway, despite this brain dump of pessimism, I actually don't feel as bleak as this sounds. I am currently in the TWW after an FET (my third so far since having H in 2013). We are using the "average at best" embryos which miraculously looked "excellent" yesterday. They are a 7 cell and an 8 cell. My son H, was a 3 day 8 cell embryo, so I have to say, I felt optimistic yesterday looking at the photo. It reminded me so much of that time 3 years ago when this was all still new, unknown, and most importantly, worked. Please please, may this third time be the charm.
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