An American Horror Story

I can’t get warm. I live in Southern California,  and even though just about everywhere is colder than here, I can’t get warm.

I’ve spent the weekend waiting. Waiting to bleed, waiting to stop crying, waiting for something to feel normal or logical. I haven’t, started bleeding, I still cry easily though for shorter durations and thank god, usually in private. I’ve been waiting for the pregnancy symptoms to subside, they haven’t either. What has happened is that everything has begun to feel really surreal. Like it’s happening to someone else.

Saturday my husband spent the day with a client so I wandered around trying to do errands I wasn’t able to get to during the last few weeks when I’ve felt so ill, and tired. At some point I started to feel like I was so desperate and crazy that I couldn’t stand the idea of having a dead embryo inside me anymore. It was like some sort of surreal anxiety attack that just went on and on and felt bigger and bigger. I texted my acupuncturist on Saturday afternoon, to see if he could help me get the miscarriage started. He was shocked. He thought I was accusing him of hurting me. I wasn’t. I said “No, I want you to help me start bleeding”. He kept asking me over and over if it was true that there wasn’t any more hope, said there really wasn’t much he could do, got kind of annoyed with me that I haven’t seen him in 3 weeks (due to work, and just being overwhelmed with adjusting to being pregnant and the expectations my husband and family have of me) so I agreed to see him this afternoon. He says the best he can do is help calm me. I am not sure how well this appointment is going to go because I’m not sure anything except strong drugs will help calm me at this point.

I’ve dreamed about dead babies. The box the Dr gave me to collect a “sample” of the tissue has very graphic pictures of what is the right tissue to send and what is not the right tissue to send. Its like something about of a sick science experiment. It will need to be “collected” thoroughly washed, and placed into the sterile jar. A vial of the miscarriage blood must also be collected. once collected they are both to be wrapped in a “bio-hazard” bag, placed back into the box and sent to the lab. The box also says that while it can be used by a patient, it’s created specifically for the use of medial staff after conducting a d&c. No gloves come with it. So let me get this straight, I’m supposed to collect the sample from the toilet, wash it, identify it, and place it in a sterile jar? I’ve done a lot of things to become pregnant. I’ve gone through a lot but I don’t think I can do this. I don’t think I am brave enough to do this.

I woke up from a nightmare about doing this last night drenched in sweat, heart racing and shaking at 1:30am last night. I didn’t go back to sleep for a long time.

There is only a 50% chance that I will miscarry naturally. On Friday if I still haven’t started then I am to call the Dr who will give some vaginal suppositories that should bring it on. There is a possibility that also wont work so the Friday after that if I still haven’t miscarried, then he will tell me to get a d&c from my own Ob. I honestly don’t know if I can wait another 3 weeks for this to be over.

Overwhelmingly, sharing my story on Facebook has been amazing. Except for a few comments like ” You know if you really want something it will happen, so you must not have wanted it enough” and a God is punishing you, I never really thought you were cut out to be a mother”.

Why is it that I can get 50 amazing, caring, supportive comments, and the 2 that aren’t just bring me to my knees?

So where am I now? I’m about to get ready to go to work, dizzy, light-headed, shaky, anxious and with tremendous back pain that started on Saturday. I’m about to step back into my life, feeling more disconnected then I’ve maybe ever felt, and wondering if this was my last chance at my own biological child.

I know I need to thank everyone for their wonderful comments and support, but please be patient with me, I am still in the thick of this and just putting on foot in front of the other is proving to be as much as I can do.

Advertisements

Heartbeat

There was growth of the gestational sack this week, but no growth of the embryo. No fetal pole, no heartbeat. My RE wants me to continue meds, and  monitor again in a week, but the chances of miscarriage are extremely high.

 

Scary

Dr Yelian called last night. He asked me to come in tomorrow to have a 3rd beta, 96 hours from the second one.

Tomorrow is also my husbands 50th birthday.

I haven’t been sleeping well, since well before my second beta so it already feels like forever since I slept more than a few hours at a time.

I’m exhausted scared. I don’t want my husbands birthday stained with bad news. But hey, no pressure or anything.
It needs to be tomorrow morning like.. now.

The Shape of Us

I am pregnant.

The results of my beta are: 71.5

I’d be lying if I said I was thrilled and exited and scared to death, all at the same time.

I’ve actually known since Tuesday when I was having that absurd conversation with myself, the conversation went on for quite a bit longer than I documented. Including where I finally said “Fine go ahead and buy the tests, but you are definitely not testing today!”  So I went home took a nap and peed on a stick.

Now before anyone calls me out on my crazy, 1. I acknowledged it a long time ago. 2. I’ve mentioned on multiple occasions in multiple posts that I give FANTASTIC advice that I then proceed not to follow.

As the results became visible, I kept blinking and thinking do I see a second line? Seriously? Is it there or am I imagining it?

Since then, I admit it. I’ve peed on all the things. 3 FRER tests, 1 digital test, and 1 test from the $1.00 store.

Because I knew early I’ve had lots of time to worry about how my beta would come back. And next will be if the numbers double properly. There is a long road for me and my goldfish, of making it through all the markers and milestones. I am not sure I will be comfortable for a while. A positive test doesn’t indicate a viable pregnancy.

But it gives me a reason to hope. Today, for that I am grateful.

Decisions and Opinions

After yesterdays less than stellar egg retrieval, and a meeting with Husband and Dr Yelian, he said to us “There is good news and bad news about this retrieval. The bad news is that we didn’t get an egg. The good news is that your lining is perfect for a transfer. Since no egg was retrieved yesterday, I will monitor again on Tuesday before transferring on Wednesday, assuming I go through with it.

I left the office with progesterone in oil, syringes for the injections, progesterone capsules and another prescription for Estrace. Its kind of a terrible decision to have to make. Its one that I’ve flipped flopped about at least 4 times in the last 24 hours. Normally I am extremely decisive, so this is new for me.

Pros:

  • My impatience would be at least temporarily satisfied. I could be pregnant by the end of the year. Last night this is what I really wanted.
  • According to the Dr this is looking very good for a transfer.

Cons:

  • My Dr is an optimist. (this could also be interpreted as a pro)
  • In the cold light of day and a return to logic, I have 3 retrieval left, this is my last frozen blastocyst and honestly I’d feel better with a backup.
  • The last couple of cycles have been really disappointing. I am not sure there is enough distance between the stress and anxiety of the last 2 months and my previous failure.

I spoke with Dr Yelian today and he said that 1. everything look good, but that he wants to test my levels to see how things are the day before the transfer. If anything is even a little off the cycle would be cancelled. So why is this such a hard decision for me to make? Why am I struggling so much with this one?

He asked that I start with the meds last night so I did. But I’m not 100% committed to this transfer and I told him as much, I am still thinking about it.

You guys have heard almost every detail since March 1, when I started this blog, so I’d like your opinions. Assuming you were me, and were facing this decision, what would you do? Please do not pussyfoot around my feelings. I prefer honesty and I hope that you guys will be kind enough to give it to me.

What would you do? Throw caution to the wind and try, possibly fail again, or give it some more time, do more retrievals and still potentially fail?

The Best Laid Plans, Never get Laid

This is actually the title of a song by “The Bears”  from a CD called  Rise and Shine who are mostly member of King Crimson from the 80’s. Admit it, none of you have any idea who I’m talking about….

My plan has worked well this last few weeks. I’ve felt genuinely peaceful and content for at least 10 days in a row.

Until last night when the husband lost his shit over me getting him a new iPhone 5. Everyone Anyone else would be like… “YAY!” but he was all “OMG I hate technology, I hate this thing, nothing is where I left it and its all your fault”

Whut? Normal husbands would be like..”OMG you are the best wife ever, you ever transferred everything over and set it up for me how can I be a better spouse to you?” Also, I didn’t get one for me. I just got one for him because he hasn’t had an upgrade to his phone in 3 years.

Nope! None of that here. Instead he texted me, and then called me and yelled at me for an hour until I solved his problem and then he was all…”Whoa you are like the iPhone whisperer”

SERIOUSLY? seriously?

Please visualize those two words being said with 2 HUGE eyes, A pale blue face, racing heartbeat,  high blood pressure and a look of complete disbelief. Assuming you know what my face looks like.

I don’t respond to stress like a maniac! Also I may or may not have mentioned he’s not technology er… savvy. Which is the nice way of saying he’s a moron when it comes to every single thing that makes sense to me in this world. I *might* have just projected a lil anger onto him, but come ON! Most people would pee on themselves to get the newest best model Apple product.

Plus I stayed up until 2am to order it for him so he’d better step off! Lastly, he asked for it. He denied it last night, but he asked for the new one because of its larger screen. Aside from perfection, nice paintings, old expensive architectural books and perfect grades from both me and stepdaughter this man doesn’t ask for anything for himself. So when he does. I listen.

I also know his limitations and his tolerances so I (wrongly) thought that me transferring everything over, and handing a new phone completely synched and working with all his favorite apps in the right order would be enough.

Next time, I will just buy one for myself and call it a day.
I had meetings this morning, acupuncture this afternoon and the radio show Facebook thingy I host tonight.

Then I will meditate on my single follicle and tell it to behave itself and to do its job. Tonight, my weird retrieval cleaning and routine. I admit it, I’m slightly OCD about the retrieval thing.

Tomorrow, If I haven’t ovulated the little effer early, the first dominant follicle from my sad little left ovary ever.

The Bears Http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iLtWj4S3Vy8

Regularly Scheduled Programming

Its been a few weeks since my FET failed, where I felt like a huge failure.  That my life was one huge fail, and that it seemed like I would never do anything but fail. Not exactly a confidence booster. Not great for people like me, who don’t sleep on a good day, and don’t bother eating much when its a bad day.

I spun off into more feelings of failure, a very quick weight drop, a brief stint at the Urgent Care for extremely erratic and low heart rate, *34bpm* at its lowest, my baseline is between 70 and 74. Low blood ox, low blood pressure, a visit to my GP, more blood work, my retrieval cycle being cancelled, my first visit ever to a cardiologist, and the temporary installation of a heart monitor. Which I wore for 4 days and promptly took off, because it was itchy, sticky, giving me a rash, annoying and was ruining my clothes. Yes. I am a shitty patient. You could see it through my clothes. I looked like the first stage of becoming a borg. I’m not sure what that means. It’s what my friends husband said. He’s one of those Star Trek people.

I once dated a writer from Star Trek the Next Generation, but I kept pointing and laughing at him so we didn’t last long. Maybe it was because I didn’t really consider that to be a job. Or maybe I didn’t respect him enough. Whatever. I digress and that’s a story for another day.

Its Monday, my Endometrial Biopsy is on Wednesday afternoon, and I feel better. Not so dark and dismal as say 2 weeks ago. Not great really but better. I am functioning, eating, so you can stop yelling at me, and you know who you are. I’m taking my vitamins, trying to be healthier in my choices, which in my case means eating at mealtimes, and choosing fruits, vegetables and either chicken or fish.

Am I scared about the biopsy? No. I feel sort of wary, even though I’ve never had one before, and I don’t know anyone that’s ever had one before, I’ve faced enough “new stuff” each month of my IVF journey that I’ve survived, and I will survive this too.

Here’s my “take away” from the last 2 to 3 weeks. Note to self: Stop saying you’re not going to react badly when something bad happens to you. Because you can’t cure normal. Feeling shitty after the August I had, was not only normal it was a rational response to a series of really bad things happening.

As far as advice for people who try to support the person going through the bad things? Stop saying things like “get over it” and “just move forward”. It’s unfair, it’s unkind and frankly as a society we spend too much time trying to invalidate or medicate our way out of our feelings. Give me some time to breathe, give me some time to grieve. These feelings are hard, and piled up, they are overwhelming.

I’m not saying this to anyone in particular. I’m just saying it. *To be 100% clear, Paul, I’m not saying it to you*

I also had a couple of people who said “So are you going to quit now? I think its time you quit”. To you, I quote Theresa from “A Journey to the Finish Line” I don’t quit when I’m tired. I will quit when I’m done. I will decide when I’m done.

The things that helped me the most were hugs, listening when I was overwhelmed and crying. My husband reaching for my hand in the car. Touch, I think helped the most. There is a saying in Arabic that “you must hold on to the person who is grieving to remind them to stay with this world”

Arabic is general is very poetic and dramatic, so yes its an overstatement, but touch was what helped remind me of my responsibilities to the people who love me, and who I love back. To those of you that reached out and touched me, Thank you.

Now to abruptly switch subjects because I’ve reached my mush quota for the month, and because for all my talk about feelings, I’m still uncomfortable with a lot of mine. I’m happy summer crap tv is over. Because the sheer volume of it I’ve watched is mortifying. I can’t wait for the smart shows I usually watch to come back over the next few weeks.

Now, back to our regularly scheduled programming