Oh, here it goes again

I know I’ve been off the radar here for the past 6 weeks.  Honestly?  I just didn’t know what to say.  I can’t get a handle on my emotions half the time, so putting it into writing would have been a hot mess.  I had nothing new to post as it took more than 8 weeks for my period to come back post miscarriage.
I was all ready to begin a week of provera when it finally started on its own.  The funny thing (and I mean this in a completely not humorous kind of way) is that I was without a period post pregnancy for longer than  I was actually pregnant. It was a relief when it started on its own because it felt like my body was telling me that it was ready to try again.  My body was actually ready before I was.  I still don’t feel ready.  But I know if I don’t do this, if I take too much longer, I won’t ever be able to.

I started my birth control on Friday.  UNC does 3 to 4 weeks of birth control, which puts our 2nd FET at the beginning of August.  About 6 weeks to go…

Today, I went in to have my 2nd saline ultrasound of the year done.  They needed to make sure everything was clear post miscarriage and, thank God, it was.  But I’d forgotten how much those hurt.  While they hurt during for me, I think the 6 hours afterwards are always worse.  I curled up on the couch and zoned out all afternoon.

They also did the mock transfer today.  This was one of the features of UNC that I really liked.  They do a trial transfer just to make sure there are no surprises on the day of.  If you remember my first transfer, it was an awful experience.  I was so crampy and so stressed out and Dr. T did NOT help things.  Today, after she got the speculum in, she was super encouraging and told me just to relax and breathe.  She did three trial transfers before I even knew what happened.  I didn’t feel a thing.  She was so gentle.  I’m pretty sure I told her that I love her.   And I do.  I’ve been in and out of this office a few times since we decided to switch to them in May and each time I see them, call them, or email them, I’m so impressed with the quality of their care.  I was carrying so much stress and fear about this transfer and I have to say that today they alleviated 90% of it.

Tomorrow, they’ll call with my FET schedule.  After that, I still need to have my embryos shipped.  That’s a process that deserves it’s own post entirely…

And outside of infertility this month….

My oldest little brother graduated from high school on June 1.  I got to fly up to see it happen. 🙂

 

We celebrated our 5th wedding anniversary last Thursday.  A movie was about all I could manage.  I love him.

 

 

And we joined my Jeremy’s family in Kentucky this past weekend for the first annual family camping trip. 🙂

 

 

Ps. I’ve lost 7 pounds!  You probably can’t tell, but I can! 🙂

Doctor Interview #2: UNC

Last Thursday, we went to UNC to meet with one more doctor.  This would be our 4th RE.  Our 4th opinion. I went into the appointment thinking that Duke was at the top of my list and was worried that I wouldn’t give UNC enough of a chance.  But by the time we left, I was ready to hand over my embryos.

This doctor was a lot like the doctors at Duke, but she was more commanding and informative.  She was compassionate and educational.  Like Duke, she wants to dig deeper into my thyroid.  She also wants to check for any early diabetes markers since it does run in my family and can cause miscarriages.  She wants to recheck my clotting issues since my last test was over a year ago.  She wants to see if it’s getting worse or better, or even staying the same.  They also do mock transfers, where they simulate a transfer and make sure everything is going to run perfectly before the embryos are involved.  I love this for two reasons.  First, I like that they’re treating me like an individual.  I’m not in and out and done.  Secondly, I want to make sure the cramping I felt during the last transfer isn’t anything concerning.
Which brings me to the cramping I felt the entire time I was pregnant. Dr. T dismissed it and said it was nothing.  The doctors at Duke said it was probably the endometriosis and that there was nothing to be done about it. Dr. M said she’s rarely heard of that happening before.  She wouldn’t have dismissed it.  At the very least, she would have treated the pain just to keep my stress levels down.  Their clinic is so interested in helping patients with the emotional aspect of fertility treatments.  They have 2 therapists they use and recommend.  This doctor encourages patients to email her with questions.
And, first beta is just 9 days post transfer.  None of this 2 weeks nonsense.

She said our chances of getting pregnant (and staying pregnant) are good.  They would be higher if we had created our embryos with them (I’m sure most doctors think that though).  She’s the first doctor who told me that the silver lining in this last miscarriage was that I can get pregnant and produce good betas.  She didn’t say it that way, she was a lot more empathetic in the way she said it, but it’s what I’ve been looking for.  Something useful to come out of it.  Dr. B said something along the same lines about our first miscarriage and I remember it comforting me then as well.

UNC has put many of my fears and concerns about another transfer to bed.  I can’t control the outcome, but I think this next shot will be a good one.  We’re aiming for a June transfer depending on when my period decides to come back.  I go in tomorrow morning for thyroid, clotting, and diabetes blood work.

And how am I feeling overall?  I’m pushing through.  There are still days that I find myself watching the clock.  Watching the minutes tick by one by one as I wait for a decent time to go to bed.  Some days, I just want time to speed up and for the day to be over.  I’m not sure if I’m hoping the next day will be better or if I’m just hoping for a few short hours that my heart doesn’t hurt.

I’ve also been finding solace in the gym.  Go figure.  I started going two days after they told us my beta at dropped to 5.  I was honestly hoping it would jump start the bleeding.  I ran and ran and then came home and cried and cried.  But it helped.  A couple days later, after my muscles stopped aching, I went again and ran and ran.  I didn’t cry quite so much that day.  So I kept going, at least 3 times a week.  It’s been three weeks.  I’m starting to lose weight (in a good way) and I’m able to run a little farther and a little longer each time.  Some days, I find myself aching to go back to the gym to run even though I’d been there just that morning.  I’ve always hated running.  HATED.  But it’s comforting to run so hard that I just can’t focus on anything but breathing.  Like sleeping, it gives me a brief reprieve from having to think about what we’ve lost and what’s coming next.

I Am Frustrated

Well, here we are, a week and a half later and I still don’t really have anything concrete to update. 😦

Our appointment with our Dr last Monday was anticlimactic and mostly useless.  I don’t know what I was expecting, but that definitely wasn’t it.  He sat down and looked at us and said there was nothing he could do about this and it’s just “bad luck.”  No sympathy, no emotion at all.  He wouldn’t run any other tests, he said there wasn’t anything else we could check that would change my protocol.  He would just recommend switching to steroid injections next time instead of the lovenox.  He tried really hard to escape the room, but we had questions to ask.  He had no thoughts on all of the cramping I experienced and no answer for looking into something to help keep my anxiety level down (he doesn’t like to add extra medications… says the IVF doctor…).  He turned our age around and told us that we’re still so young.  I nearly yelled at him that if I can’t get pregnant at 26 (or 23), my odds of getting pregnant at 30 aren’t much better.  I don’t want 6 of our embryos turning into 1 baby.  I want to have more than 1 baby.   He just looked at me and smiled politely.

When we first met this doctor, I thought his straight to the point and “my word is law” mentality would help things move along more smoothly.  But I’m finding that he doesn’t like to be questioned and has no interest in teaching us or helping us understand anything.  He doesn’t have time for emotions.

I also let the nurse know that I don’t want this miscarriage to go on forever.  Last time, I miscarried almost as soon as I stopped my progesterone.  This time, it’s been 10 days since I stopped my progesterone injections and nothing is happening.  Last Monday, my final beta came back at 2 and my progesterone was only 10.  Things were low and only getting lower.  The nurse told me to wait until Thursday and then give her a call and they’d see what they could do.  Since Thursday, I’ve left her 3 messages and called the office manager only to hear today that I’m just going to have to wait until my body miscarries naturally, that they don’t want to interfere.

I just don’t feel like it’s that odd to want this to be over.  I feel like I’m carrying dead babies around inside of me and it just makes me sick.  I don’t want to look at my body.  I don’t want to go out in public more than I have to.   I recognize that I was barely 5 weeks when they died.  But at this point, I would be almost 7 weeks.  If I hadn’t had the 2nd beta, I would still think I’m pregnant.  I’ve had very little cramping and no spotting.  It’s overwhelming and agonizing and I’m so angry and frustrated that no one seems to care.  Is it really that hard to prescribe some misoprostol?!  Or at the very least, explain why a natural miscarriage is so important to them?

Jeremy and I both feel like this has been kind of the last straw with this clinic.  We’ve got 2 appointments in the next few weeks to see two other clinics in the Raleigh/Durham area.  Duke Fertility and UNC Fertility.  I wish we could check out Carolina Conceptions too, but our insurance won’t cover them.  While the NCCRM has higher birth rates than Duke or UNC, I can’t help but think a clinic who will answer my questions and return my phone calls will do a world of good for our next transfer.

I miss Dr. B.  I miss Rush Copley’s Center for Reproductive Health.  I miss how friendly and helpful the nurses were.  I miss not being worried that I was continuously falling through the cracks.  My body NEVER does what it’s supposed to do and I miss being with a clinic who understands that and understands all of the emotions that go along with it.  My insurance covers IVF with Dr. B now.  Traveling to Chicago from Raleigh for a transfer is really silly, but right now it’s so appealing.

Overall, if I wasn’t having to fight to actually achieve a miscarriage right now, I think I would be doing ok.  But this isn’t helping.  This isn’t making the process easier.   I just want it to be over. 😦

Beta #3: It’s Just Us Again

Beta came back at just 7.  Our babies are gone.  It’s just us again.

We’re coping in our own ways.  It’s both easier and more difficult than last time.  I’m finding myself hoping that some good will come out of this, that maybe this will reveal the last piece in the puzzle. That the rest of our embryos will actually have a chance.

On Thursday, I was on the verge of refusing to do another transfer.  Ever.  Over the course of the past couple days, I realized that we have 4 more embryos who deserve the chance their siblings just had.  But after those 4, I think we’ve decided that will be it.  I can’t keep letting this happen.  It feels irresponsible in a way to my body, to my and my husband’s emotional wellbeing, and to these embryos.  I can’t keep creating them only to have them die.

I have to go in for 1 more beta on Monday to make sure my level gets below 5.  They also squeezed us in to see Dr. T on Monday afternoon which I am incredibly thankful for.  I want to see him sooner rather than later while this is still so fresh in our minds.  We have some questions and some thoughts and it will be good the hear what he has to say as well.

Beta #2

The last time I lost a baby, the numbers started out bad and just got worse.  We knew right away that it was unlikely that our baby was going to make it.  It was devastating, but I’m thankful it happened early and I’m thankful it was swift.

This time, I was able to be blissfully pregnant (or however blissful an infertile woman being pregnant ever can be) for 9 whole days.  The pregnancy tests were dark and obvious.  They showed up quickly.  They were beautiful.  My progesterone check and first beta were beautiful and indicative of at least 1 healthy, growing baby.  Just a few days ago, Jeremy and I were laying in bed and I realized that for the first time in 3 1/2 years, things felt so good.  Things felt right and wonderful.  I couldn’t have asked for anything more than what I had at that moment.  I was starving and exhausted all the time, but it was the most wonderful feeling.

I woke up yesterday morning knowing that I had made it to 5 weeks.  I had made it further than I ever had before.   The night before, I ordered yarn for the baby’s blanket.  Things just felt so wonderful.

And then I went to have beta #2 drawn and waited in terror for some reason until the nurse finally called me at 2:45.  My beautiful first beta of 80 had dropped.  To just 31.  I tried to keep hysterics under control while the nurse tried to relay information from the doctor.  That has to be the worst part of her job.  I could tell she just felt so bad.

According to the doctor, our best case scenario means that we lost one baby and the other is trying to hang on, but doing poorly.  Worst case scenario is that we have lost them both.  I will have a 3rd beta drawn tomorrow and that will tell us everything.

This is feels so much like the last time now.  We’re just waiting to find out.  Jeremy is hoping for the best.  I’m finding it hard to be optimistic at all.  Any thoughts and prayers will be appreciated.  More tomorrow.

Too Tired to Care

Dude, it’s over-emotional central over here.

It could be stemming from a number of things including… 1. We are almost finished with our last assisted cycle.  If this doesn’t work, the chance of us having our own kids is very slim.  2. One year ago tomorrow, we found out we were pregnant.  One year ago on Tuesday, we found out our baby had died.  3. There are so many artificial hormones floating through my body!!  4. I’m just exhausted.

There’s just a lot going on right now.

We’ve been looking more into adoption and, more recently, more into foster care.  I don’t know if I’m ready, or comfortable handing $10,000+ that I don’t have over for a baby.  The idea of buying a baby is still really bothering me and I can’t seem to shake it.  It’s probably still something we’ll do eventually, but I think we’re keeping our options open and hoping and praying that something good falls into our laps.  We could really use something good.

I’m just so tired of having to work so hard at something most people don’t even have to think about.  I want that weekend in Vegas baby.

Yesterday’s monitoring showed that I probably only ended up with 1 egg this time.  1 egg.  The rest of the follicles are still hanging out, getting bigger, and turning into cysts.  That’s so nice….  They did assure me that I have a wonderful ratio of estrogen to progesterone.  Although I’m not sure I care any more.  I’m just too tired.

Meanwhile the greyhounds got collar lights last weekend.  They now glow in the dark.  Love them.

Dear Baby,

Today would have been your due date.  Today should have been such a happy day.  We wanted you so much and haven’t stopped missing you and who you would have been.

Would you have preferred hockey or basketball?  Cats or dogs?  Would your eyes be blue like mine?  Or green like your dad’s?  Would you have a sense of humor like Opa?  Would you have Grandma wrapped around your finger?

No matter who you were, we love you so much it hurts.  It hurts every day knowing that you can’t be with us like we had hoped.

We were so excited when we found out about you.  We were so thankful and so happy to be able to finally share our lives with you.  You would have love our family.  Your dad would have been such a wonderful dad.  He’s so caring and fun.  He takes such good care of us.  Alice and Bella would have grown to love you.  Skill Set and Snow White would have been your best buddies.  We would have read lots of books and played in the snow.  We would have taken you to the beach and built sand castles.  We would have been so happy together.

Sometimes I feel like pieces of me died with you.  But, like ee cummings wrote, “i carry your heart (i carry it in my heart)”

I love you, sweet baby.

Stage 2 Endometriosis

Just got home and everything went well. He found stage 2 endometriosis covering the whole back of my pelvis with my ovaries connected to it by the endo. But. He got it all. Every last bit. No lupron for me. =)

For now I’m just sore at my incisions. I’m taking my pain meds and zonking out for the day. I’m just so crazy happy with this outcome.  We have an answer to the infertility and the miscarriage and Dr. B is really optimistic that we’ll be pregnant within the next couple months.

This pain is so unbelievably worth it. 

This Isn’t the Room I Had in Mind.

The bill from our first IUI came in the mail a couple weeks ago.  I could only glance at it and then tossed it aside.  The only thing I could think of was that bill, that dollar amount, is the only thing left of our baby.  $98.00.  That’s what our baby dying cost us.  I sat down to pay it a little while ago as I had let it go a week overdue.  That was easily the hardest check I’ve ever had to write, the hardest $98 I’ve ever had to part with.

It seems silly to think about it that way.  We were only buying a chance to have a baby.  There was never any guarantee that we would get one of our own.

I’ve spent the day half deep cleaning the house and half staring at all of the space in despair.  I both love and hate this house today.  I’m debating ripping every stitch of carpet out of the extra bedroom this afternoon.  I really hate that bedroom…

Every afternoon, the extra bedroom that was supposed to be a nursery glows.  Walking down the hallway, it looks like someone has turned on all the lights and then some.
The baby-yellow walls that I hated when we first moved in only magnify the sunshine that comes through the west window.  No window in the house gets as much sunshine as that one window.
When we first moved in, I would frequently double check that I hadn’t left the light on the night before – but there is no light in this room.  I try to never go in there if I can help it.  It reminds me of everything it isn’t.  It isn’t the room my son or daughter will sleep in.  It isn’t the room that we snuggle and read in together.  It isn’t a room full of tiny clothes and tiny shoes.  It isn’t the room I sneak into 100 times a night to thank God for this little soul.  It isn’t the room where all kinds of great imagining will happen.  This isn’t the room I had in mind.
But sometimes, when the sun fills it and makes it glow just right, I’ll sit on the floor in that room.  Sometimes I cry.  Sometimes I imagine it’s the room it’s supposed to be.  And sometimes I just sit and wonder why life is the way it is.
This isn’t the room I had in mind.  This isn’t the life I had envisioned for us.  Things were supposed to fall into place with this house.  It was supposed to be our new beginning.  We were so close.  But this still isn’t the room I had in mind.

Here We Go Again.

After taking the past week and a half to step back and process what happened, I think I’m in a better place.  We’re not as devastated or as shocked and we’re better able to look at the loss of our baby logically.  Don’t get me wrong, I think it will be a good long while before I stop feeling so heartbroken, but we’re moving on with life because it’s the only thing we can do.

I’ve been injecting 112.5 units of Gonal-f for the past week.  Wednesday’s CD 9 appointment revealed 2 follicles (16 mm and 10 mm) and an estrogen level of 140.  That’s almost triple what my estrogen was at this point last month on 75 units of Gonal-f.   They didn’t think the 10mm follicle would mature enough, so it was looking like another 1 follicle cycle.  But, with the higher estrogen, I wasn’t complaining.

At today’s CD 11 appointment,  they found both follicles had grown to 17 mm.  2 follicles.  Finally.  My estrogen came back at a whopping 246 (it was 247 at our CD 15 IUI last cycle).  Our IUI is scheduled first thing Monday morning with an ovidrel injection on Sunday afternoon.  Yet again, everything looks perfect.  Maybe the higher estrogen and double follicles will do the trick this time.

It feels like this one came up so quickly.  I know it’s just because so much has been going on, but I’m thankful the time hasn’t been dragging.  The extra Gonal-f in my system has really been kicking my butt.  I feel a lot like I felt when I was taking clomid (minus the cysts of death).  Headaches, epic fatigue, cramps, forgetfulness, and confusion/spaciness.  My focus has been completely gone this week.  It took me close to 5 hours on Tuesday to create a 40 minute lesson plan.  I can usually pump those bad boys out within an hour.  It is what it is though.  I’m trying not to think about it.  I’m not getting my hopes up about this IUI.  I’m not terrified it’s not going to work.  I can handle that.  I’m worried we’re going to lose another baby (or babies this time).  If it happens again, I think we’ll be done trying for a while.

I’ve got a list of things I want to get done this weekend.  After Monday, I’m going to be afraid to move…  I’ll update Monday afternoon.