An even greater loss

Yesterday our D&C went smoothly. I am feeling good about our choice to go back to my OB. We were at a very highly regarded women's hospital, and I felt so well taken care of. Without us ever having to say two words to anyone, both our nurse and the resident working with my doctor seemed to know our history and expressed such genuine sympathy at our situation, and I think really went out of their way to make us comfortable. Being able to just go to sleep, and wake up having it all over with is such an amazing gift, at least one small way to make this ordeal easier. I lost my emotional footing a bit walking into the hospital, realizing once again that we were there NOT to deliver a baby, but managed to hold it together pretty well after that. Still a little sore and taking it easy today, but overall doing okay.
  
Unfortunately there are no limits in the universe to the number of bad things that can happen in one day. Last night I got the call from my parents that my uncle (my dad's only sibling) had passed away.
  
We first learned of his diagnosis with a rare form of thyroid cancer a year ago January, about the time I was going through miscarriage #3 and my first D&C. That loss rocked my world terribly, I was such an emotional mess, the lowest I think I've been this whole journey. So as the news unfolded about my uncle, it was slow to sink in and for me to notice how terribly my dad was taking the news. But once it did, I could relate to the shock of getting devastating news from a doctor in a very deep, dark, and profound way.
  
He was originally given 3 months to live, a year and 4 months ago. (I remember having the horrifying thought that I was willing the next 3 months to fly by so that we could start trying again, while he was praying for that same period of time to stand still.) But he was a fighter, and got second opinions and found clinical trials and raised over $50,000 to get a researcher assigned to his rare form of cancer. 
  
His family organized a fundraiser last fall, and it was such an amazing event and way for all his loved ones to be there and support him in person. Towards the end of the evening we had a moment to talk, just the two of us. He told me that my dad had told him about our struggles, and he shared that he and my aunt had also struggled in starting their family. With everything going on for him, the fact that he took a moment to reach out to me, to comfort me, was incredibly touching and meant so much. He held my hand and we shed a few tears as he said, "We'll both get there. Somehow, we're both going to get there."
  
Yesterday he lost his battle, and we did too, though our final outcome remains to be seen. His services are scheduled for next Tuesday and Wednesday, which is making me incredibly thankful that our plans changed to bring closure to our loss this week and not next. I am going to have to find the strength to be there for my family during this sad time, and mourning our personal loss will have to take the backseat for now.

Wait, no, er... NOW we know.

Went to see my OB yesterday for another ultrasound. I hadn't been to his office since mc#3 a year ago January, but I was surprisingly unemotional being back there, maybe because the bad news had already been given, and I was just feeling grateful to be seen and helped.

  

My OB agreed that the pregnancy did not look promising, but wasn't 100% confident so proposed to wait until next week to schedule the D&C, and to do a quick ultrasound beforehand just to be sure. He was so kind and patient and informative, and said that he didn't want to put me through any additional emotional pain by waiting. But I was feeling pretty sane (versus in the past where waiting one extra minute felt like torture) and felt that having shown up on his doorstep out of the blue that morning, I should respect his recommendation. I updated the few people I needed to at work, and tried to settle in for another week wait. 

  

Woke up this morning with some regrets about not getting things moving forward this week, knowing deep in my heart that there was no hope left and no reason to wait. And my body must have agreed because as I made my last pit stop before walking out the door to work, I discover I'm starting to bleed. Have a fleeting moment of panic, then sadness, then relief that my body was answering all those yet unanswered questions for us.

  

I called my OB, and we're now scheduled for a D&C tomorrow. Part of me still has reservations about having a procedure versus letting my body do this naturally (especially since seems to be moving along on its own now), but my husband and I decided that having the best chance for testing and information is our priority right now. Tomorrow will not be pleasant, but I know exactly what to expect and that I will feel well cared for.

  

I'm doing okay. Having a definite plan is doing wonders for my psyche. And I know it's just an arbitrary date, but having this whole mess completely contained in the month of April seems emotionally tidier somehow. 

  

Sorry to have dragged you all along on this roller coaster; part of me wants go back and delete this whole debacle from the record. Thank you again for all your kind comments and prayers. And I totally understand if at some point there's just nothing left to say :) 

No more ambiguity

We're done wondering. It's over.
  
Had our ultrasound late yesterday. Betas continued to rise (6231 to ~15,000), gestational sac grew (from 8mm to 12mm), but the faint spot of a yolk sac had disappeared and there was just nothing else there. Per Dr. B and the tech, the edges of the sac didn't show the signs that it was really digging into the endometrium and thriving like it should. 
  
Dr. B said with medicine it's never 100% certainty, but she was 99.9% sure that this pregnancy was not viable.
  
We discussed our options. Wait for it to happen naturally and try to collect a sample on our own (she gave us a sample container at our last appointment). Schedule an in-office procedure with her, no anesthesia. Schedule a surgical D&C with either my OB or a colleague of hers.
  
No option is particularly appealing. The last thing I want to do is wait, but I'm scared about the risks of infection (for good reason) and scarring (after just having a hysteroscopy) with more invasive procedures. Getting this done with Dr. B would be the fastest least complicated option, but enduring the physical pain of that just seems like more than I should have to deal with right now. The procedures give us a better chance for collecting the sample for testing, but I have a deep down terror that it WON'T be chromosomal, which opens a huge can of emotional worms over what I or my body did wrong.
  
As of now I'm leaning towards a D&C with my OB, who performed one for pregnancy #3. I have a call into his office, but am still waiting for a call back, and the limbo of moving forward is unraveling my already fragile psyche right now. I'm supposed to be going into work later, but without "a plan" I'm having a hard time getting off the couch. And I have to wait for my laundry because I was literally completely out of clean underwear. That's the kind of month it's been.
  
The sadness and disappointment and anger and fear are sinking in in little ways. Not taking my prenatal last night. Stopping the prometrium supps. Eating chicken wings and fries for dinner because my diet no longer matters. Letting myself get riled up and upset and freak out because there's no longer anything at stake, no reason for zen. Watching old 30 Rock episodes in bed last night, coming across a christmas episode, and letting my mind wander to the image of a newborn in red fuzzy christmas pajamas, the one we won't be meeting. Fast forwarding in my mind to when we might start trying again, and realizing that yet another wedding anniversary will pass, no further along this path.
  
I just don't know where we go from here. My heart is breaking but I know we will get through this, that we'll somehow find the strength to move forward and keep trying. A huge thank you to everyone for your kind words and support, it has meant so much to me.
  
**Update: Just heard from my OB. He wants to do another ultrasound himself so will be heading into his office shortly, should know more from there.

More "not good but we still don't know for sure" news

Had my ultrasound this morning. Gestational sac, measuring small. Barely there yolk sac, only visible after MUCH digging around and searching.
  
Dr. B. was present at the ultrasound and even "took the wheel" for a while. And then I met with her in her office afterwards, and she spent time going through what we saw and what it means. I can't recall the numbers, but both her and the ultrasound tech took measurements of the sac, and there are guidelines about the mean diameter and what should be seen when. Basically was on the fringe of viability, but not looking good.
  
So we scheduled another ultrasound for Monday afternoon (for which Dr. B earned some points by pulling strings to get me in).
  
I also had blood drawn, and she called me herself with the results early this afternoon: 
Beta #4 = 6231.
   
Which was actually higher than I expected, but Dr. B. was discouraged and wanted it to be higher. She still thought my situation was inconclusive, but began discussing options for having a procedure, which she never explicitly said D&C but I can only assume is what she meant. She offered that if I came for an ultrasound Wednesday instead, that we could do an office procedure the same day. 
   
The thought of going through a D&C in the same fashion as the hysteroscopy - ie barely medicated - sounds like cruel and unusual punishment to me right now, and I basically said as much. And she said that she could schedule something with a colleague (and anesthesia) instead for later in the week.
  
Ugh ugh ugh. Has been a really rough day, I basically cried all morning, but I'm actually doing okay now.
  
My husband had to go out of town and couldn't go with me, which had me in tears all day Monday at the thought of not having him. But my awesome friend K, who is a fellow IF/RPL soldier, agreed to take me. Not only did she endure the 3-hr ordeal with me this morning including driving, but we've been talking by phone all day and has been really helpful in processing it all and moving to a better place already.
  
There's so much more to share about today and the past week, but my brain is just exhausted right now. I'm terribly sad and disappointed, but I'm dealing. And I'm actually seeing a bright side in this horrible situation: we were able to get pregnant on our own again, and the pregnancy progressed far enough that I've got the option for a D&C and testing and possible explanation.
  
I'm going to be okay, and live to fight another day. 

More maddening ambiguity

Have been doing pretty well emotionally since Friday, but started to unravel today during the roller coaster of waiting for my test results... talked to the nurse yesterday – she said would call me today by noon or else call her – called her at 1:00 today, she answered but had no clue about who i was or why i was calling, said would call back by 1:30 and leave a message – at 1:45 called and left no message – 2:00 I called her back and left a “I’m stressing out here” message – she finally called back at 2:15 with a message. Which was...

Beta #3 ~21 dpo = 1425

... which apparently the doctor is saying is normal. But I of course have plugged it into the hcg doubling calculator website, and think it blows.

And even more bad news. Dr. B. retested my TSH, which should apparently be 1-2, and is 4.18. They’ll be calling me back tomorrow with a prescription for some meds. WTF? This wasn’t even on my radar of something to worry about, and I’m still not sure what to think of it as Dr. Google has been rather unhelpful for my situation.

Am trying to be zen with however this turns out and take a “what will be will be” attitude, but every day I get more emotionally invested in this pregnancy, more desperate for it to be okay, more needing this to work out and give us a December baby. But my gut is telling me that it’s not going to work out,  and will now play out over god knows how long and what emotional turmoil. I could have dealt with a really bad result today, then at least I would know and could start the process of moving on, both physically and emotionally, without getting any deeper into it. Part of me thinks that I know how to handle a miscarriage, but now I see that even after 4 times, there are just so many ways for this to go wrong in new and cruel ways that there is no way to truly be prepared.

Sorry to be dark, and if I seem ungrateful. I just need to get this stuff out to hopefully move forward in a healthier way. Your prayers and support, as always, are most appreciated.

  

***

  

I wrote the first part of this post before leaving work. I had been fighting back tears all day, and finally left early at 4:30 (this cold is handy for excuses at least). I came home and called my husband and then my mom and dad, and cried and cried and felt everything I needed to feel.

I'm still anxious, but less raw now. I'm gathering my strength to push the worry out of my mind and try to be distracted til we learn more, probably next week.

I have to mention just how awesome my mom is. She basically told me, "You have been doing everything you can, and everything you're feeling is totally normal." Validated my tears, and took away any hint of blame or shame or any of those destructive feelings. Love you, Mom.

Survived the week (hopefully) + betas

In a way I've spent the last year preparing myself for getting back to this place again - acupuncture, meditation, nutrition, the support of this blog and IRL fellow IF/RPLers. Basically living the lifestyle of a pregnant person all the time, no question in my mind anymore of should I / shouldn't I be doing that. Imagining getting the positive test, and everything that would follow and how I would mentally prepare myself for it and prioritize that over everything else.
  
But my expectations have waned a bit in the past few months. It had been so long since seeing that positive test that I stopped planning for it in any specific way, to ease the anticipation and subsequent disappointment. Finding out that I was pregnant on Monday caught me off guard (I know how stupid that sounds...) and I proceeded to have a total clusterf*** of a week.
  
I was totally thrown off my game right off the bat with not sleeping in my own damn bed for 3 nights (due to scary smells from condo above). Work hit the fan with lots of big meetings and deadlines and new projects launching, and I struggled big time to cope while being so freaking distracted and preoccupied. Health-wise, my body is NOT cooperating either. TMI warning, but I've had "the scoots" off and on for the past month - my brother's kids had the flu and I originally attributed it to that - and it came back with a vengeance this week. Left me feeling drained and sick and un-nourished. And then Thursday night I started getting a sore throat, on top of it all.
  
With every past loss, I am haunted with so many terrible regrets and "what if" scenarios - what if I was working too hard, what if it was that egg I ate that wasn't cooked enough, what if I was too anxious, what if what if what if. I hate that this week has felt stressful and draining and out of sorts, leaving way too much mental ammunition if things go south. I just wanted to feel like I was doing everything I could for this pregnancy, no regrets, and now I've already blown that big time.
  
Last night I went to acupuncture at my holistic fertility center, and felt like a new woman afterwards. They are just so supportive and wonderful and full of real advice and strategies for taking care of myself and getting through this. And I really do believe in the physical benefits of the acupuncture itself. I got a good night's sleep last night, am taking it easy today, and now feel calm and peaceful and rested.
  
So I've turned a corner. Please oh please dear god let it not be too late and that my pregnancy is not already doomed from the chaos of this shitty week.
  
Okay, enough of that, here are the maddeningly ambiguous beta results:
Beta #1 ~14dpo = 266
Beta #2 ~16dpo = 469
  
They didn't double. My heart sank. The person who called me said "The doctor says your levels rose appropriately. Come back next Wednesday for another." I pointed out that they didn't double, and she just repeated the "appropriate" comment. 
  
Not to get off on another tangent in this already rambling post, but my doctor is a nationally known RPL specialist. I guess I just expected more. A call from the doctor. Some acknowledgement of the fragility of the situation. Some recognition that I could use a little more support and information than your average "hey i'm pregnant" jane off the street.
  
I didn't get the reassurance I was looking for from a kickass second beta, and is feeling too familiar from my last pregnancy when my 48 hr betas went like this: 100, 300 (yay!), 567 (hmm), 607 (crap). Feels just like the 300-567 rise-but-not-quite-doubling indicator of doom.
  
Deep breaths, deep breaths. I'm trying to stay sane by pretending I'm just in the homestretch of a two-week-wait, and next Wednesday is when I'm finding out if I'm really pregnant or not.
  
Thank you all so much for your kind words and support, it means so much to me. Sorry that I have not been there for you very well this past week or so. And sorry for this incoherent mess of a post :) (I pity the clients reading any reports i wrote this week...)


zen zen zen zen zen zen...

Hold the phone on that new RE consult...

I’m pregnant.

I’m overwhelmed and numb and a confusing jumble of emotions. It’s been 24 hours since I POAS and saw 2 lines, and I already feel exhausted from the effort of not completely freaking out. I have my healthy sane moments where I feel like I’ve really made progress since my last pregnancy in terms of controlling stress and racing thoughts, but at other times I feel at the brink of a panic attack.

The IF-er in me is crazy happy that this has happened for us again. But the RPL-er is quickly taking over with fear and worry and paranoia over what has already or is about to go wrong.

I’m not making much sense right now, but these are the thoughts I’m trying to focus on:

I am grateful for this pregnancy, no matter what happens.

I want this pregnancy to have a successful outcome, but I don’t need it to.

I am hopeful but not expectant.

Together my husband and I can handle whatever we are to face in the coming days, weeks, months.

One day at a time.

zen zen zen zen zen zen zen zen zen zen zen zen zen zen zen zen zen zen...

Advice for anxiety-reducing strategies and healthy thoughts are very welcome right now. Thank you for all your support, and I’m so very sorry that this news may be hurtful to some of you out there that I care about very much.

Hope boomerang?

I don’t know what I must’ve been dreaming about Thursday morning, but I woke up convinced that I wasn’t pregnant and fired up to schedule some consults with new REs. I think I’ve said before that I’ve had implantation bleeding with each of my 4 pregnancies, and so in a way my 2ww gets answered more quickly in my mind now: no spotting, no preggo. Yes, I realize that I don’t actually know anything, but I’ve been right these past 11? 12? cycles, and in a way helps cushion the disappointment.

But then a couple things happened over the weekend. I’ve been BBTing, and my temp seemed a few degrees higher Saturday morning. Hmmm, an elusive triphasic chart? Or simply that it might’ve been a later time, I was flailing in my sleep, etc.

And then Saturday night - who the what?? - I noticed some spotting. And not the “gotcha” spotting of my stupid pink prometrium supps, but brown. It's later than I would typically get implantation bleeding at ~11dpo, but who the hell knows anymore? What else is it then, seems early for pre-AF spotting? The spotting was a little heavier today, but definitely spotting as opposed to flow, and mostly brownish.

Not calculating any due dates at this point, mind you, but hope has made a tiny comeback. And some tbd day soon I’ll get up the nerve to POAS.

So the downside of having some signs of “holy shit, I might actually be pregnant” is the quick to follow thoughts of “holy shit, in how many ways have I already screwed this up.” (I don’t know if that’s an RPL thing, but I’m just too haunted by irrational ghosts of “things I did to doom my 4 past pregnancies.”)

And I feel like I’ve been under fire ever since. Some new owners just bought the condo above us and are moving in next month, but Saturday I hear a work truck pull up back, and soon after hear the sounds of the floors being sanded upstairs. Our condo is relatively new and appears nice, but was built about 8 years ago when any dipshit could get a builders license and it’s basically held together with spit. I start freaking out, because I know what’s coming next: re-varnishing the hard wood floors. I’ve had 2 bad experiences with being exposed to fumes during past doomed pregnancies, and I just hate being put in that position. 

My husband talks to the workers, and they say they’re supposed to finish the work that day. I had already planned to spend most of the weekend out in the burbs with family parties, so I decide to pack a bag and spend the night at my brothers. Out of the frying pan.... there I proceed to spend most of the weekend with 4 adorable children who were all coughing their heads off, and dying to cuddle with me which I am powerless to resist. Especially the twins, seeing as how we were celebrating their 4th birthday.

Then tonight we get back home at 8p, and the place reeks of varnish. Not as terrible as I might’ve expected, but I could smell it, and just didn’t want to be there.

So.... I’m writing this post alone from my hotel room in downtown chicago, near my office. My husband stayed at home to get all the windows open and air things out --- thank god for the freak 70-degree weather today!

In summary: I may be pregnant, but may also have already doomed it with the exposure to toxic fumes and the bronchitis I’m sure to get this week. 

I know I sounds like a crazy person. (Or possibly a tired illiterate one - I just caught the typo in the previous sentence - “sounds” - but maybe that sums it up better.) But such is the joy of life as a paranoid, heart-broken, desperate IF/RPL-er.
  
I more than ever just want to take good care of myself right now and get good rest and be in my own damn bed. I hope my exile doesn't last too long. Or that this added stress isn't what dooms my maybe-there-maybe-not new pregnancy. (Yes, I realize I've used "doom" like a 100 times in this post - someone's got to now that barfingrainbows got her happy ending :) )
  
Happy week to everyone!