For those who are reading, I am sorry I haven't been posting. My life is a roller coaster; things are happening for the good and the bad and I haven't had even a moment to think to myself let alone post. Mr.A accepted his wonderful dream job and things are moving very quickly. He will be leaving on Sunday for quite a while for training then we will be moving far, far away.
Thankfully, if my I cannot keep my job when we move, I have another to fall back on doing the same thing, for the same people, maybe even making more money. This being said, I have decided to take a TTC break, obviously for the time Mr.A will be away, but beyond that as well. The thought of going through another loss right now (or in the immediate future) is incomprehensible. After this week settles down I will be back with plenty of posts about my oh-so-boring-life, until then....
Tuesday, February 22, 2011
Saturday, February 12, 2011
Overwhelmed and Heartbroken
After my OB's office called to tell me that my numbers had started to drop, they wanted me to follow up with the OB on Thursday. Mr.A had taken off so much work recently, that he couldn't go. I worked from home that day to allow myself some flexibility for the appointment.
I arrived a few minutes before my appointment and was not asked to wait even one minute; they called me right back. The OB brought me into the same room where I had come for every heartbreaking appointment. She did a third internal ultrasound which showed that the baby was getting smaller, but that my body was continuing to develop the yolk sac. It was still very high in my uterus and my cervix was tightly closed. She estimated that it could be weeks before my body started to miscarry on its own since there was no sign of progress. She discussed a D&C with me; which earlier in the week I was completely against. She let me know that emotionally and mentally it was the easier way to go; having had two miscarriages of her own.
I sobbed and agreed to the D&C. She scheduled me for that evening. Thursday was the hardest day for me and Mr.A; we knew without a doubt that our baby was gone. I called him to let him know that I needed to be at the hospital at 4 and that my mom had decided to come for the weekend for emotional support and to help around the house. Mr.A came home early to be with me before the surgery.
We arrived at the hospital at 4 and I began all of the in processing paperwork and waivers. We were moved to the waiting room for surgery where a nurse immediately came and got me to prepare me. I went back in the prep area alone. At one point I had 4 nurses and 2 doctors around me. One taking blood, one giving me and IV (Apparently I have sucky veins and I have three bruised areas to prove it), one taking my blood pressure, temperature etc, one asking about allergies and medical history, one giving me the run-down of what to expect from the anesthesia and lastly my OB telling me what to expect afterwards. I was so overwhelmed from everything, so scared I was making the wrong choice, so devastated of what I was going through that I just sobbed uncontrollably. Finally, Mr.A and my mom were able to come back and see me; but only after they had given me (what the anesthesiologist referred to as) an Anesthesia Margarita. I was calming down, but still was very upset. They hugged me and kissed me and then I was being moved to the operating room.
The next thing I remember a nice young nurse was wheeling me into the recovery room. She gave me what I affectionately refer to a "rabbit poop ice" that tasted so good after being ordered not to eat or drink anything for at least 6 hours prior to the surgery. I think she thought I was still a little loopy since I called it that, but no matter my state of mind; it is always rabbit poop ice. They had given me pitocin in my IV at some point during the surgery which was making me cramp and contract afterwards, so she gave me some medicine to help with the pain. After about 30 minutes, she wheeled me to another recovery area where Mr.A and my mom could stay with me. I ate some Graham crackers, more rabbit poop ice and water.
My mom left Mr.A and I alone for a few minutes; when we just hugged and sobbed. This is officially the worst thing we have ever gone through together. We know that things will get better, we know things will get easier, and we know that we will eventually be able to get pregnant again; but we are hurting, we are devastated, and we truly feel as though we lost a member of our family. No matter how early, no matter how small our baby was; it is our baby. It's now our angel baby.
I arrived a few minutes before my appointment and was not asked to wait even one minute; they called me right back. The OB brought me into the same room where I had come for every heartbreaking appointment. She did a third internal ultrasound which showed that the baby was getting smaller, but that my body was continuing to develop the yolk sac. It was still very high in my uterus and my cervix was tightly closed. She estimated that it could be weeks before my body started to miscarry on its own since there was no sign of progress. She discussed a D&C with me; which earlier in the week I was completely against. She let me know that emotionally and mentally it was the easier way to go; having had two miscarriages of her own.
I sobbed and agreed to the D&C. She scheduled me for that evening. Thursday was the hardest day for me and Mr.A; we knew without a doubt that our baby was gone. I called him to let him know that I needed to be at the hospital at 4 and that my mom had decided to come for the weekend for emotional support and to help around the house. Mr.A came home early to be with me before the surgery.
We arrived at the hospital at 4 and I began all of the in processing paperwork and waivers. We were moved to the waiting room for surgery where a nurse immediately came and got me to prepare me. I went back in the prep area alone. At one point I had 4 nurses and 2 doctors around me. One taking blood, one giving me and IV (Apparently I have sucky veins and I have three bruised areas to prove it), one taking my blood pressure, temperature etc, one asking about allergies and medical history, one giving me the run-down of what to expect from the anesthesia and lastly my OB telling me what to expect afterwards. I was so overwhelmed from everything, so scared I was making the wrong choice, so devastated of what I was going through that I just sobbed uncontrollably. Finally, Mr.A and my mom were able to come back and see me; but only after they had given me (what the anesthesiologist referred to as) an Anesthesia Margarita. I was calming down, but still was very upset. They hugged me and kissed me and then I was being moved to the operating room.
The next thing I remember a nice young nurse was wheeling me into the recovery room. She gave me what I affectionately refer to a "rabbit poop ice" that tasted so good after being ordered not to eat or drink anything for at least 6 hours prior to the surgery. I think she thought I was still a little loopy since I called it that, but no matter my state of mind; it is always rabbit poop ice. They had given me pitocin in my IV at some point during the surgery which was making me cramp and contract afterwards, so she gave me some medicine to help with the pain. After about 30 minutes, she wheeled me to another recovery area where Mr.A and my mom could stay with me. I ate some Graham crackers, more rabbit poop ice and water.
My mom left Mr.A and I alone for a few minutes; when we just hugged and sobbed. This is officially the worst thing we have ever gone through together. We know that things will get better, we know things will get easier, and we know that we will eventually be able to get pregnant again; but we are hurting, we are devastated, and we truly feel as though we lost a member of our family. No matter how early, no matter how small our baby was; it is our baby. It's now our angel baby.
Wednesday, February 9, 2011
The worst has been confirmed
I’ve lost my sweetpea. During my u/s today, the baby measured the same as it did last week and there was no cardiac activity. Really, I’ve known and I’ve mourned since last Thursday. My symptoms have been fading slowly and maybe it was mother’s instinct, because I just knew.
Mr.A took it pretty hard and I knew he would. He was so optimistic, so sure everything was alright and today all hope was dashed. They took my blood which came back showing that my levels are finally starting to fall (down to 42,800 today). I will have an appointment with the OB tomorrow to decide what our next steps are.
It is the day....
I am leaving work for my appointment in 2 hours. I have had dreams the last few nights where we had the u/s and everything was perfect. In the first dream, my darling baby’s heartbeat was 138 bpm and in my second last night it was 128bpm. The dreams both felt so real and left me so disappointed when I woke up and realized they were just dreams.
I am so fortunate to have such a wonderful support system right now. Of course I have the ladies from the nest, who I love so dearly. I also have my neighbor and her sisters who are all pregnant; two of which had difficulty TTC and had their own first trimester scares. My neighbor’s little girl (who once told me that “God just wasn’t finished designing my baby”) asked her 4th grade class to pray for me. I also have a wonderful woman at work who I can talk to about anything. She is the only one here who knows of my TTTC because she has gone through it all herself. She went through countless IUIs, IVF and experienced miscarriage after miscarriage. She is the strongest and sweetest woman I know. Lastly, I have my family my loving husband and my dear friends.
I appreciate all of you so much more than you know right now.
Tuesday, February 8, 2011
Roller Coaster
After I spoke with PA on Friday, I had a renewed sense of optimism. Everything really could be alright. Then the progesterone supplement roller coaster began. Over the weekend, I cried, slept, moped, napped, watched TV and worst of all I googled. I have had so many what-if scenarios running through my head over the last few days and I can’t help but think about the worst possibly outcome. Yesterday was a good day; I was so busy at work and it kept my mind preoccupied.
The progesterone makes me a hormonal and sad mess; and my poor husband doesn’t know what to do with me. In two seconds time, I will go from being positive everything is over to being hopeful and looking forward to Wednesday’s ultrasound.
Reasons to be positive:
-There was a fetal pole and a healthy yolk sac last Thursday
-My numbers are still doubling nicely and are high
-I haven’t had any spotting or bleeding
-I have been taking my PNV, DHA and Progesterone every night
-Today, I am pregnant and I love my baby.
Saturday, February 5, 2011
Bloodwork Follow-up
The doctors' office called yesterday with my blood work results. My HCG levels are around 49,600; which shows pretty good doubling since first being drawn in the beginning of January. Being the overly obsessive person I am, I found an online HCG calculator and plugged in the numbers. Ideally, your HCG levels should double every 48-72 hours; according to my numbers they are doubling every 80 hours. It is a little off, but close enough that I am trying to stay optimistic. The PA said that the number is a solid number for 6w and that she feels it matches what the u/s said. Whether or not that is true, it made me feel a million times better.
The only bad news that came from my blood work was my progesterone levels. At 14DPO (or so I thought...?) it was at 16.1; at my appointment it was 6.7. It has dropped rather significantly. The doctor called in a progesterone supplement that I will need to take for at least the next two months. The funny thing about the supplement; its nothing like I have ever seen or heard of before. She actually called in a formula to a compounding center (that is also a pharmacy) rather than purchasing an off the shelf progesterone pill or suppository. So, I had medication made specifically for me with the traditional mortar and pestle then put into a capsule. My insurance probably won't cover it since it is so odd, but at this point I will do anything necessary to sustain a healthy pregnancy.
I guess my mood has changed from completely having given up, to clinging to a glimmer of hope. If you are religious in any way, please pray for me to have strength. Strength to possibly sustain this pregnancy I have prayed for and/or strength to continue to stay hopeful, or strength to help me get through should the worst happen.
The only bad news that came from my blood work was my progesterone levels. At 14DPO (or so I thought...?) it was at 16.1; at my appointment it was 6.7. It has dropped rather significantly. The doctor called in a progesterone supplement that I will need to take for at least the next two months. The funny thing about the supplement; its nothing like I have ever seen or heard of before. She actually called in a formula to a compounding center (that is also a pharmacy) rather than purchasing an off the shelf progesterone pill or suppository. So, I had medication made specifically for me with the traditional mortar and pestle then put into a capsule. My insurance probably won't cover it since it is so odd, but at this point I will do anything necessary to sustain a healthy pregnancy.
I guess my mood has changed from completely having given up, to clinging to a glimmer of hope. If you are religious in any way, please pray for me to have strength. Strength to possibly sustain this pregnancy I have prayed for and/or strength to continue to stay hopeful, or strength to help me get through should the worst happen.
First Appointment
I had my first official OB appointment on Thursday. I was so excited and a little anxious. I knew that if everything was measuring where it should, if there was a heartbeat, and everything looked healthy that we would be able to announce to my extended family on my birthday.
Well, things didn't go as I had hoped. Mr.A and I waited in the lobby for over an hour and a half; which is normal for this OB. She is highly sought after, and spends time with each of her patients. First, I met with the PA who was wonderful. She did the normal checks of blood pressure, weight, breathing, heart rate etc. As I laid waiting for the OB, with the ultrasound machine next to me, I knew it would be an emotional visit.
The OB came in, she was so sweet. She knew how anxious I was to see my little sweetpea, so she prepared the internal u/s right away. It took her a few seconds to locate the gestational sac but there it was. The first thing she asked was how far along I thought I should be; 8w3d. She said the baby was measuring right about 6w1d. I started to cry; I knew something was wrong. I had been charting my cycles for 18 months, I knew that I had never ovulated that late and based on temps/OPKs I should have ovulated at the perfect CD14, for the first time ever.
She continued to measure everything and said that it had implanted high in my uterus, and that the yolk sac looked perfectly healthy-all good signs, but there was no heartbeat. She said that everything looked perfect for 6w1d and that it was too early to see the heartbeat. She ordered blood tests for more HCG levels and progesterone as well as three other vials. She said I shouldn't worry yet and tried to keep me as optimistic as possible, but I was a wreck. As we were leaving, I was scheduled for a follow up u/s next Wednesday to hopefully see growth progress and the heartbeat.
When we got in the car, I turned off my phone and sobbed. There were a couple of friends and my family who were all anxiously awaiting updates. I couldn't even talk to my own husband, how could I talk to them? I felt like everything was caving in around me. I was so angry with myself; it took my freaking body this long to get pregnant and now I feel like it can't sustain a pregnancy either? FML.
Mr.A has stayed extremely (almost sickeningly) optimistic throughout this entire ordeal. He trusts that the Dr. wouldn't have printed off a copy of the u/s had she expected the worst. He trusts her calming words that everything could still be ok. I am trying so hard to just let go and let God.
Well, things didn't go as I had hoped. Mr.A and I waited in the lobby for over an hour and a half; which is normal for this OB. She is highly sought after, and spends time with each of her patients. First, I met with the PA who was wonderful. She did the normal checks of blood pressure, weight, breathing, heart rate etc. As I laid waiting for the OB, with the ultrasound machine next to me, I knew it would be an emotional visit.
The OB came in, she was so sweet. She knew how anxious I was to see my little sweetpea, so she prepared the internal u/s right away. It took her a few seconds to locate the gestational sac but there it was. The first thing she asked was how far along I thought I should be; 8w3d. She said the baby was measuring right about 6w1d. I started to cry; I knew something was wrong. I had been charting my cycles for 18 months, I knew that I had never ovulated that late and based on temps/OPKs I should have ovulated at the perfect CD14, for the first time ever.
She continued to measure everything and said that it had implanted high in my uterus, and that the yolk sac looked perfectly healthy-all good signs, but there was no heartbeat. She said that everything looked perfect for 6w1d and that it was too early to see the heartbeat. She ordered blood tests for more HCG levels and progesterone as well as three other vials. She said I shouldn't worry yet and tried to keep me as optimistic as possible, but I was a wreck. As we were leaving, I was scheduled for a follow up u/s next Wednesday to hopefully see growth progress and the heartbeat.
When we got in the car, I turned off my phone and sobbed. There were a couple of friends and my family who were all anxiously awaiting updates. I couldn't even talk to my own husband, how could I talk to them? I felt like everything was caving in around me. I was so angry with myself; it took my freaking body this long to get pregnant and now I feel like it can't sustain a pregnancy either? FML.
Mr.A has stayed extremely (almost sickeningly) optimistic throughout this entire ordeal. He trusts that the Dr. wouldn't have printed off a copy of the u/s had she expected the worst. He trusts her calming words that everything could still be ok. I am trying so hard to just let go and let God.
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