Well, the D&C was yesterday. It went OK, no pain, and then we come home and had pizza and watched "He's just not that into you," and then after the movie was over I got sad. Like, there you have it, the full circle in the space of two months. Not pregnant, then pregnant, then not pregnant. But no matter how you slice it, whether you wanted the pregnancy or not, when you go from pregnant to not pregnant, you are supposed to have a baby to show for it. So that sucked and felt really sad. The doctor who did the D&C was the same doctor who delivered R last summer.
Here's my one story of absurdity from the procedure. Kaiser is just so amusing. So I'm in the OR and they are starting the sedation and the doctor says, "Picture yourself lying on a beach with a pina colada," and then the nurse starts singing "Picture yourself on a boat on a river..." you know, the song "Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds." So I actually laughed, and said, "That's not a pina colada they're talking about, it's acid." And the other nurse starts laughing and the nurse who was singing was like, "What? Acid?" And I'm like, "Yeah, LSD?" And she had no idea. And so the doctor goes, "You know, LUCY in the SKY with DIAMONDS?" Still no idea, so he spells it out: "LUCY - L. SKY - S." And by the time he got to Diamonds, I was unconscious. So that's my version of "Count backwards from 10." And then I woke up, and the procedure was done.
Wednesday, July 15, 2009
Tuesday, July 7, 2009
Thank you
Thank you so much for your comments. It's very helpful to read them.
I feel a little all over the place but sort of OK. In some ways, I expected this and in some ways not. Like, on the one hand, if it was so difficult to get a PLANNED pregnancy going, what were the chances of an unplanned one actually taking root? But on the other hand, precisely BECAUSE the planned pregnancy was hard to achieve, it would just be the perfect infertile irony if the unplanned pregnancy hit it out of the park without trying.
Ultimately, I think it's just the odds: if I was diagnosed with high FSH 5 years ago, and I'm 39 now, then I'm guessing egg quality isn't great. Which means that the embryo might not have been the strongest.
One small gift I am getting, from the previous miscarriage, though: if I hadn't had that first miscarriage, I might be thinking about this one, "It's my fault. I killed the budding embryo with my ambivalence." Even though I know that's ridiculous, I might still be thinking it. Even though I know that if desire to reproduce had anything to do with actual reproductive function, then there wouldn't be a million infertility blogs on Mel's famous blogroll. I was ambivalent about the pregnancy, I was freaking out about it, but at the same time I'm very sad it's over. It was our baby, after all.
What else. And I'm thinking I might have a D&C instead of the cytotec. Even though the embryo is disappearing (and it does help immensely to see no embryo on the ultrasound screen, rather than a deceased embryo).. the HCG is still 75,000. Doesn't that seem high? I don't know. But in any case, I'm afraid of pain. And so I think I might do the D&C.
I feel a little all over the place but sort of OK. In some ways, I expected this and in some ways not. Like, on the one hand, if it was so difficult to get a PLANNED pregnancy going, what were the chances of an unplanned one actually taking root? But on the other hand, precisely BECAUSE the planned pregnancy was hard to achieve, it would just be the perfect infertile irony if the unplanned pregnancy hit it out of the park without trying.
Ultimately, I think it's just the odds: if I was diagnosed with high FSH 5 years ago, and I'm 39 now, then I'm guessing egg quality isn't great. Which means that the embryo might not have been the strongest.
One small gift I am getting, from the previous miscarriage, though: if I hadn't had that first miscarriage, I might be thinking about this one, "It's my fault. I killed the budding embryo with my ambivalence." Even though I know that's ridiculous, I might still be thinking it. Even though I know that if desire to reproduce had anything to do with actual reproductive function, then there wouldn't be a million infertility blogs on Mel's famous blogroll. I was ambivalent about the pregnancy, I was freaking out about it, but at the same time I'm very sad it's over. It was our baby, after all.
What else. And I'm thinking I might have a D&C instead of the cytotec. Even though the embryo is disappearing (and it does help immensely to see no embryo on the ultrasound screen, rather than a deceased embryo).. the HCG is still 75,000. Doesn't that seem high? I don't know. But in any case, I'm afraid of pain. And so I think I might do the D&C.
Monday, July 6, 2009
Two
Is the number of children I was destined to have. We lost this pregnancy. At today's appointment we learned that the embryo didn't grow at all since last time -- actually, it's sort of starting to disappear, like reabsorb. And since I'm still not bleeding or anything, they're going to check that HCG levels are going down and then give me some drug - cytotec I think it's called. I'm sad and sort of stunned but I'm OK. That's all for now....
Sunday, July 5, 2009
Tomorrow is Ultrasound
Thank you so much for your comments. I will comment back I promise. I've been following you through the past year, just more silently.
Tomorrow, Monday, is the next ultrasound. I had horrible nauseau that went away about a week ago. And when that happened, my default thinking went from "I'm pregnant" to "I'm not pregnant anymore." Though of course you never know. I feel strangely OK about this whole thing, and I'm pretty much praying to be able to accept whatever I learn tomorrow.
The one thing I really don't want, and that I might well get, is another "maybe." I think I mentioned before their sono machines are absolutely for shit, and when I miscarried before they had to send me down to radiology because the machines in the OB department weren't good enough to tell whether there REALLY was no heartbeat or if it was just too blurry to see. Kaiser sucks in some ways, but is good in others. Like, prenatal care, MFM consults, fetal echos at Children's Hospital, labor and delivery, and, with R, 10 days in the NICU and I never had even so much as a $5 co-pay. It was all taken care of.
I'm babbling! So tomorrow I'll have some sort of experience at the OB, one way or the other, and I will report on whatever I learn or don't.
Tomorrow, Monday, is the next ultrasound. I had horrible nauseau that went away about a week ago. And when that happened, my default thinking went from "I'm pregnant" to "I'm not pregnant anymore." Though of course you never know. I feel strangely OK about this whole thing, and I'm pretty much praying to be able to accept whatever I learn tomorrow.
The one thing I really don't want, and that I might well get, is another "maybe." I think I mentioned before their sono machines are absolutely for shit, and when I miscarried before they had to send me down to radiology because the machines in the OB department weren't good enough to tell whether there REALLY was no heartbeat or if it was just too blurry to see. Kaiser sucks in some ways, but is good in others. Like, prenatal care, MFM consults, fetal echos at Children's Hospital, labor and delivery, and, with R, 10 days in the NICU and I never had even so much as a $5 co-pay. It was all taken care of.
I'm babbling! So tomorrow I'll have some sort of experience at the OB, one way or the other, and I will report on whatever I learn or don't.
Friday, June 26, 2009
Our surprise
I haven't posted for a long time and perhaps no one will read this, but I'll write it anyway. We had our son R in June 2008, and he just turned a year.
It's hard to know what order to write things in. I guess the first thing is I'm pregnant and it was a big surprise - the kind we all roll our eyes at -- because we were using the rhythm method which, combined with "subfertility," would serve as contraception.
It's weird how freaked out I was. And how freaked out I am, actually. My husband had scheduled a vasectomy, you know, since we were "done," and when he made that appointment I started getting a little wistful. Like, I'll never be pregnant again, never hold a newborn again, etc. And a friend asked me, "Well, do you want a third child?" And I thought about it, and I let myself ask the question, which I'd never asked because I'd always assumed we'd have two, and I looked at the little favorite newborn outfit I'd saved, and I cried a little, and the next morning I woke up totally refreshed and at peace with the answer, which was that we truly were happy with two. That was actually the very day that my period was supposed to come. And it came, for only about five minutes. Then four days later it started again, for another five minutes. After a week or so, I woke up in the middle of the night actually terrified. We've been having a lot of financial problems. Dh was in the mortgage business - not a big fish though, and we were and are in pretty bad shape financially, and it's been that way for a long time. We were ahead of the curve! We were in a recession before the rest of the country was. I mean, I'm employed and my job is secure, but I don't make a lot. And I have stepkids, and even though they're a bit older, and thus not costing much money, it's still a heck of a brood to consider. So anyway, I woke up terrified. And for almost two more weeks, I couldn't take the HPT. And finally I did, because I figured, I'm scared of being pregnant (which is something I never thought I'd say, but I said it) AND I'm scared of finding out. And then I took the HPT which at least took away the fear of finding out. I peed on the stick and left it in the bathroom and made my husband go read it and tell me what it was. He was a trooper and supportive from the start - "It'll work out, don't worry, we'll deal, etc."
Then about a week after that I called the doctor - finally - and went to a sonogram. This is where it got weird. I was 8w3d according to the lmp but the embryo measured 6w3d on their machine. It was an OB not an RE and the machine was nowhere near the resolution that they have at the RE. The nurse practitioner seemed unconcerned, since I ovulate late in a long cycle (or thought I did - but the rhythm method failed, meaning - oh, we don't know). For a moment, and it was an unpleasant moment, I switched back into frightened-desperate-loss mode. "Oh God. Where is the heartbeat. It's very blurry. It's not viable. Oh no." Like, that horrible sinking miscarriage feeling of being dropped into the pit of unhappiness ... and I had to remind myself that in many ways it is very different this time. It's not that I don't care - but I care differently somehow. Let's put it this way - WANTING to be pregnant is exhausting and demoralizing. I was and am so grateful that I was out of that wanting. And while I know that if this embryo turns out not to be viable, that I would be very sad, but that it would be all right. I still feel that and I hope I do when I go for the repeat sonogram.
This is so strange. If you read this and you're trying to get pregnant right now, I know that this is the situation I myself would have killed to have. "Oops!" I used to want to kill people who got to say that. And the infertile part of my brain knows that behind all my sleepless nights (tuition, daycare, three, two, newborn, sleepless, pregnant, broke, in debt, aaaaah), there's a miracle. I mean, I think I know that. I'm just pretty scared actually.
It's hard to know what order to write things in. I guess the first thing is I'm pregnant and it was a big surprise - the kind we all roll our eyes at -- because we were using the rhythm method which, combined with "subfertility," would serve as contraception.
It's weird how freaked out I was. And how freaked out I am, actually. My husband had scheduled a vasectomy, you know, since we were "done," and when he made that appointment I started getting a little wistful. Like, I'll never be pregnant again, never hold a newborn again, etc. And a friend asked me, "Well, do you want a third child?" And I thought about it, and I let myself ask the question, which I'd never asked because I'd always assumed we'd have two, and I looked at the little favorite newborn outfit I'd saved, and I cried a little, and the next morning I woke up totally refreshed and at peace with the answer, which was that we truly were happy with two. That was actually the very day that my period was supposed to come. And it came, for only about five minutes. Then four days later it started again, for another five minutes. After a week or so, I woke up in the middle of the night actually terrified. We've been having a lot of financial problems. Dh was in the mortgage business - not a big fish though, and we were and are in pretty bad shape financially, and it's been that way for a long time. We were ahead of the curve! We were in a recession before the rest of the country was. I mean, I'm employed and my job is secure, but I don't make a lot. And I have stepkids, and even though they're a bit older, and thus not costing much money, it's still a heck of a brood to consider. So anyway, I woke up terrified. And for almost two more weeks, I couldn't take the HPT. And finally I did, because I figured, I'm scared of being pregnant (which is something I never thought I'd say, but I said it) AND I'm scared of finding out. And then I took the HPT which at least took away the fear of finding out. I peed on the stick and left it in the bathroom and made my husband go read it and tell me what it was. He was a trooper and supportive from the start - "It'll work out, don't worry, we'll deal, etc."
Then about a week after that I called the doctor - finally - and went to a sonogram. This is where it got weird. I was 8w3d according to the lmp but the embryo measured 6w3d on their machine. It was an OB not an RE and the machine was nowhere near the resolution that they have at the RE. The nurse practitioner seemed unconcerned, since I ovulate late in a long cycle (or thought I did - but the rhythm method failed, meaning - oh, we don't know). For a moment, and it was an unpleasant moment, I switched back into frightened-desperate-loss mode. "Oh God. Where is the heartbeat. It's very blurry. It's not viable. Oh no." Like, that horrible sinking miscarriage feeling of being dropped into the pit of unhappiness ... and I had to remind myself that in many ways it is very different this time. It's not that I don't care - but I care differently somehow. Let's put it this way - WANTING to be pregnant is exhausting and demoralizing. I was and am so grateful that I was out of that wanting. And while I know that if this embryo turns out not to be viable, that I would be very sad, but that it would be all right. I still feel that and I hope I do when I go for the repeat sonogram.
This is so strange. If you read this and you're trying to get pregnant right now, I know that this is the situation I myself would have killed to have. "Oops!" I used to want to kill people who got to say that. And the infertile part of my brain knows that behind all my sleepless nights (tuition, daycare, three, two, newborn, sleepless, pregnant, broke, in debt, aaaaah), there's a miracle. I mean, I think I know that. I'm just pretty scared actually.
Sunday, December 7, 2008
Great News in the Blogosphere
I haven't posted forever, since I have only mommying to report (R almost 6 months old and cute as a button). But this post isn't about me! It's about
Lindsay ourfamilybeginnings.com
and
Sunny gracehopeandfaith.blogspot.com
So although it is improbable that anyone would see this post before seeing theirs, I still just had to do the shout out. This is terrific news.
Lindsay ourfamilybeginnings.com
and
Sunny gracehopeandfaith.blogspot.com
So although it is improbable that anyone would see this post before seeing theirs, I still just had to do the shout out. This is terrific news.
Tuesday, September 2, 2008
Is it hard having kids?
Hi everyone. Yes, I am alive. Things are going well.
Yesterday was a labor day picnic, with some people I know well and some that I used to know well but haven't seen in years and years, like since before I started ttc. Also, some new people, young - one woman asked me - she must have been in her late 20s - "Is it, like, HARD, having kids?" I thought about it - I mean, yeah, it's hard, it's all consuming, it's constant, and definitive. My life at the moment is utterly shaped by my kids. But I said, "No." Because it's not, really. This is my experience: The hardest day of parenting DOES NOT COME CLOSE to how hard it was NOT having kids, or even to how hard it was having ONE, trying for another, and being unsuccessful at that. My darkest days were infertile days. I'm glad I know that. I'm probably still fairly subfertile, but because we're not trying for another, and won't, it doesn't hurt now.
Oh - and you know how they say when you breastfeed exclusively, it keeps your period away for months! HA HA! R is almost 11 weeks and I've already had a period. The same happened with my daughter.
R is adorable. He is sleeping better! He wakes up every 4-5 hours, for a total night sleeping of 13 or 14 hours (that makes for 2 wakings). He has blue eyes and a little monkhead (a fringe beginning at the back of the head and going down). He weights 12 pounds something. I'm still on maternity leave (yay!) and will be until January. I love his little baby face with its million expressions. OK, I'll stop now.
Yesterday was a labor day picnic, with some people I know well and some that I used to know well but haven't seen in years and years, like since before I started ttc. Also, some new people, young - one woman asked me - she must have been in her late 20s - "Is it, like, HARD, having kids?" I thought about it - I mean, yeah, it's hard, it's all consuming, it's constant, and definitive. My life at the moment is utterly shaped by my kids. But I said, "No." Because it's not, really. This is my experience: The hardest day of parenting DOES NOT COME CLOSE to how hard it was NOT having kids, or even to how hard it was having ONE, trying for another, and being unsuccessful at that. My darkest days were infertile days. I'm glad I know that. I'm probably still fairly subfertile, but because we're not trying for another, and won't, it doesn't hurt now.
Oh - and you know how they say when you breastfeed exclusively, it keeps your period away for months! HA HA! R is almost 11 weeks and I've already had a period. The same happened with my daughter.
R is adorable. He is sleeping better! He wakes up every 4-5 hours, for a total night sleeping of 13 or 14 hours (that makes for 2 wakings). He has blue eyes and a little monkhead (a fringe beginning at the back of the head and going down). He weights 12 pounds something. I'm still on maternity leave (yay!) and will be until January. I love his little baby face with its million expressions. OK, I'll stop now.
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