"Everything looks good...."
This seems to be a popular phrase spoken by people around me these days. I'm getting so I like it.
The baby is a little splot who has a lovely flickering heartbeat pulsing like a tiny beacon of light. I had forgotten how amazing that sight is. I am smitten.
Even if Seb didn't get to be there, I did have manly backup. Little S walked with me to the clinic hand in hand and was on his best behavior the entire time I was in Dr. Stonehenge's office. He carried the ultrasound pictures back to the doctor's office and when I explained to him that it was "the baby" he layed them on the floor and ran over them with his truck repeating "bébé, bébé"..."brrrrrrrmmmm"
My next ultrasound is on the 26th of April and in between that time I am going to try to breathe a little easier. I know there are the woods to consider and I'm not necessarily out of them yet but there is something in getting this far which gives me the faith that we will get to go further. Crazy notion? Maybe but I'm going to go with it anyway because it's just too tiring living with the continual stress.
And so now it is time for a nap...again.
Thursday, March 29, 2007
Before the first ultrasound
I only have one hour until my first ultrasound and so what to do but kill time writing and worrying. I feel exactly like I did before each beta phone call, butterflies in my stomach, short of breath, terrified at the prospect of everything crashing down around me, an emotional tidal wave ready to hit the shore in either joy or devastation, we aren't really sure which yet.
I'm not sure what I'll do at this point if I get negative news. I've unfortunately become invested in this thing on a level I couldn't help. I have been thinking about the baby things, like car seats and strollers and being foolish. I've actually bought a few little things, sale things I just couldn't pass up. I am truly crazed and tempting fate like a woman with nothing to lose.
Seb was supposed to go with us but he had to go to Paris at the last minute so I'm walking to the appointment with Little S this morning. Maybe it's not the best idea because it's always a little difficult getting him home without a lot of delays and "no, no, no...wait, wait, wait" and so if I'm in a bad state of mind I don't know HOW I'll get him home. It's funny what your mind thinks of during moments like this. All the what ifs no matter how trivial.
I've told a few more people too, people outside the realm. The other day my friend Lily surprised me and stopped by in the afternoon with her son. "Ack!" the house was a mess and I had been sleeping, hair sticking up in all directions. I had after lunch nap breath and I looked frightening. I was embarrassed so I used the best excuse I had. So there was some other casual acquaintance who knew. What was I thinking. I begged her not to make a big deal of it but she kept saying "that is so wonderful!" and making a big fuss.
I also got an e-mail from my in laws. I could tell that Seb had let them in on it. They had written me on my birthday just after the first beta to say "we hope the good news stays in your life at this moment and continues to fill your world with love and happiness" or something weird like that. Luckily it was sent to my old email address and I didn't read it earlier, like around the time of the beta nonsense. It would have bugged me. They express themselves in such a strange way, so flowery and formal! It makes me feel like they look it up in a book or something. They also mentioned something about not worrying about "those events of the past" and allowing them to affect my moment of happiness. Ergh. I will kill Seb next time I see him.
Okay, it's time to go. I'll post the second half of this when I get back.
I'm not sure what I'll do at this point if I get negative news. I've unfortunately become invested in this thing on a level I couldn't help. I have been thinking about the baby things, like car seats and strollers and being foolish. I've actually bought a few little things, sale things I just couldn't pass up. I am truly crazed and tempting fate like a woman with nothing to lose.
Seb was supposed to go with us but he had to go to Paris at the last minute so I'm walking to the appointment with Little S this morning. Maybe it's not the best idea because it's always a little difficult getting him home without a lot of delays and "no, no, no...wait, wait, wait" and so if I'm in a bad state of mind I don't know HOW I'll get him home. It's funny what your mind thinks of during moments like this. All the what ifs no matter how trivial.
I've told a few more people too, people outside the realm. The other day my friend Lily surprised me and stopped by in the afternoon with her son. "Ack!" the house was a mess and I had been sleeping, hair sticking up in all directions. I had after lunch nap breath and I looked frightening. I was embarrassed so I used the best excuse I had. So there was some other casual acquaintance who knew. What was I thinking. I begged her not to make a big deal of it but she kept saying "that is so wonderful!" and making a big fuss.
I also got an e-mail from my in laws. I could tell that Seb had let them in on it. They had written me on my birthday just after the first beta to say "we hope the good news stays in your life at this moment and continues to fill your world with love and happiness" or something weird like that. Luckily it was sent to my old email address and I didn't read it earlier, like around the time of the beta nonsense. It would have bugged me. They express themselves in such a strange way, so flowery and formal! It makes me feel like they look it up in a book or something. They also mentioned something about not worrying about "those events of the past" and allowing them to affect my moment of happiness. Ergh. I will kill Seb next time I see him.
Okay, it's time to go. I'll post the second half of this when I get back.
Monday, March 26, 2007
Odd progesterone dreams
The dreams I've been having lately are odd and so real I feel like I'm really living them. Sometimes I'm shocked when I wake up to the real world in my bed under the stairs, sweating and rubbing my eyes. Often they are sexual in nature, that progesterone bonus thankyouverymuch, and often they involve people who I'd never consider "in that way" like the guy who sweeps the leaves by the lake, ummmm okay..., or the dream about the man who ran a hotel I was staying at in another dream. I have no idea who he was but he was friendly enough and I bet my room was comped for the next few nights!
A few nights ago I had a dream where I lost the baby. Seb and I had gone to the ultrasound and been told that the baby was dead. That was a sad dream and I woke up feeling scared and teary and emotional. The feeling stayed with me all day and I refused to talk about the pregnancy at all that day.
Last night I had a nurture dream. I dreamed that I was sitting next to Little S and I wanted to hold him and let him breastfeed and he seemed to want to, but there was a block there that wouldn't let him. I remember thinking in the dream that even if he tried to breastfeed I would have to push him away because it would kill the growing baby.* It was an odd mix of emotions because that urge to breastfeed was so strong that it nearly felt like physical desire, oddly sexual.
It was nice to be in that nurture role again. I felt needed again by my son. It occurred to me that I hadn't felt that way since I stopped breastfeeding him almost a year ago. Maybe that's where all this baby wanting comes from. We need to feel needed and having a small baby makes you feel more needed than you'll ever be in your entire life. Gradually that maternal role changes and sort off fades, or does it, I'm not sure? Oddly though in this dream I could feel that Little S still needed me more than I had thought.
I don't now what these dreams represent;- deep rooted desires (look out leaf guy!), fears, shifting maternal roles, but they are a facinating way to pass the time until the next ultrasound.
*Since I was still breastfeeding with my pregnancy in November two years ago, I have always wondered if that wasn't a factor in the dwindling pregnancy and miscarriage. It's no wonder the issue is coming up in dreams this pregnancy.
A few nights ago I had a dream where I lost the baby. Seb and I had gone to the ultrasound and been told that the baby was dead. That was a sad dream and I woke up feeling scared and teary and emotional. The feeling stayed with me all day and I refused to talk about the pregnancy at all that day.
Last night I had a nurture dream. I dreamed that I was sitting next to Little S and I wanted to hold him and let him breastfeed and he seemed to want to, but there was a block there that wouldn't let him. I remember thinking in the dream that even if he tried to breastfeed I would have to push him away because it would kill the growing baby.* It was an odd mix of emotions because that urge to breastfeed was so strong that it nearly felt like physical desire, oddly sexual.
It was nice to be in that nurture role again. I felt needed again by my son. It occurred to me that I hadn't felt that way since I stopped breastfeeding him almost a year ago. Maybe that's where all this baby wanting comes from. We need to feel needed and having a small baby makes you feel more needed than you'll ever be in your entire life. Gradually that maternal role changes and sort off fades, or does it, I'm not sure? Oddly though in this dream I could feel that Little S still needed me more than I had thought.
I don't now what these dreams represent;- deep rooted desires (look out leaf guy!), fears, shifting maternal roles, but they are a facinating way to pass the time until the next ultrasound.
*Since I was still breastfeeding with my pregnancy in November two years ago, I have always wondered if that wasn't a factor in the dwindling pregnancy and miscarriage. It's no wonder the issue is coming up in dreams this pregnancy.
Thursday, March 22, 2007
Waiting for a blurry scan
I have my appointment for the first ultrasound check in this pregnancy on the 29th of this month. That's next Thursday! I really wanted it a week later so that it wouldn't end with a question mark as Dr. Stonehenge searches for the heartbeat or estimates the gestational age to be off ... or worse. I know from experience that his machine is probably not the best in town. All those splotchy ultrasound pictures showing a ghostly haze of what we were told was a baby in my last pregnancy made me wonder why they didn't break down and invest in something a little more state of the art. But on the other hand I know from experience that Dr. Stonehenge is very good at what he does. Since he predicted Little S's sex at 15 weeks I know he knows his blurry ultrasound machine as good as any savvy L.A. clinic doctor scanning movie stars all day in and out. I mean if he could see the tiny nubbins of Little S that early I figure he's pretty competent, right?
Anyway the reason for the early ultrasound is because Dr. Stonehenge is going out of town for an entire month. I didn't have a lot of choice about the date, actually no choice to be quite frank. It was either now or in four weeks and by then let's face it I'd be attaching a camera to the end of my hairbrush handle and the tv trying to get a look myself. I don't think I could last that long.
Not long to go. Just another dreaded weekend to get through and part of a week and then we'll know what's going on in there. Meanwhile would I be completely nutty if I went out and bought seven pregnancy tests?
Anyway the reason for the early ultrasound is because Dr. Stonehenge is going out of town for an entire month. I didn't have a lot of choice about the date, actually no choice to be quite frank. It was either now or in four weeks and by then let's face it I'd be attaching a camera to the end of my hairbrush handle and the tv trying to get a look myself. I don't think I could last that long.
Not long to go. Just another dreaded weekend to get through and part of a week and then we'll know what's going on in there. Meanwhile would I be completely nutty if I went out and bought seven pregnancy tests?
Tuesday, March 20, 2007
How FET works
There isn't a whole lot to tell about my FET transfer but I figure I'll talk about it anyway while suffering the eternal wait ie chewing through my cuticles down to the bone. The FET transfer is very much like any old IVF transfer, you just show up and have what feels like a pap smear and in ten minutes it's over. I have to say that I love ova girl's label for it as "squirty up the clacker day," a perfect name for what it amounts to. A lot of build up to what is basically a glorified pelvic exam with a mini bonus.
There is a most bizarre aspect to an FET that differs greatly from a typical IVF transfer. It's odd to swallow but you basically don't know until you show up if you'll have any embryos successfully thaw and if they do thaw well you won't know what condition they'll be in until about five minutes before "the clacker squirt." This whole aspect of the FET made me nearly vomit with anticipation when the receptionist said "go have a coffee and come back in thirty minutes (and we'll tell you the future of your entire family lineage from here on out)" Seb was very pleased to be allowed to go have a coffee and be freed from the waiting room where he always hates sitting anyway. I always bug him wringing my hands and make gibberishly, nervous wife talk (as he thumbs through a magazine tuning me out). So while he was very casual and enthusiastic about taking this little coffee break and had skipped off to get some money from a bank machine in the parking lot, I was beside myself, stunned in fear. Oh my god would they even thaw at all? Would both thaw? Would they both die? Yes they'd probably both die. They were probably dying right this second! If they died would I cry there on the spot or could I hold it until we made it to the car? I couldn't say one way or the other. Maybe I'd stay stoic for a few minutes or maybe I'd immediately burst into tears. What if they both thawed but were both awful quality. What if they were just these grade D cellular blobs and I had to wait the two weeks knowing that I hadn't a snowball's chance in hell. That could be worse! I sat there and thought. Which of the two would be worse, no chance or slowly squandering hope? I couldn't decide. Seb looked up from his coffee and Little S was holding up a Giant Kit Kat bar he'd helped himself to from beside the cash register, much to the dismay of the grumpy patron, and then suddenly it was time to go back and get The News.
"Messieur and Madame..." my heart stopped and I tried hard to take a deep breath where one wasn't available and became a little panicked at my sudden lack of oxygen. We sat down at a desk in a small office and a young, female lab assistant wearing Puma sneaker and jeans (it never ceases to amaze me how health care professionals in France get to dress) pulled out our file and pretended to review it a little so she wouldn't seem rushed and then announced dryly, "okay well you have two six day embryos and one is not doing so well and it's on the decline...(long pause) but the other is just beautiful! It's dividing and growing. It's lovely!" I eyed her suspiciously. She was glossing it over. One was shit and the other was kind of shit but she didn't want a sob scene. The standard "deliver the bad news in a good way" spiel. I wasn't buying it. Okay "whatever" lab chick. Give the same speech to the next couple. Deliver it twenty times today if it make your life any easier.
As we returned to the waiting room to await the transfer of our one "mediocre" embryo I felt that familiar sense of doom encompassing me. This was all a fiasco. A total waste of time. We'd driven to Lyon at four a.m. on a Saturday morning to complete an administrative step required by the hospital, not to have a baby. Not to get pregnant. I felt my morale sinking where I had tried so hard to keep it afloat and I asked Seb to please take Little S for a short walk around the hall so I could sit alone undistracted. He said something to me but I barely heard him. I was so lost in my thoughts I couldn't hear anything but a faint buzzing of what was probably the fluorescent lights or perhaps my brain, I wasn't sure anymore. Meanwhile Dr. Dieu strolled by, white lab coat, long, brown hair slicked back and that cunning fox grin. He regarded me slyly and slowed his step a pace and then he winked. I'm not sure why he winked or what it meant. It annoyed me though because he was obviously trying to cheer a hapless patient out of her misery and I was in no mood for it. I always think guys who wink are weird anyway. Movie stars wink. Brad Pitt winks. I don't want winks while I'm this vulnerable. It irked me this wink thing.
A few long minutes later we were called in and Dieu sat us down and asked us about Mexico. He then turned to our file and said "it's a very nice one!" and I did a mental eye roll. Not him too, please. Then he asked me to disrobe, move to the examining table and assume the position while we waited for the embryo. It's going to be a little Mexican isn't it! You leave in June right?" Seb responded enthusiastically but I stayed silent and Dieu said "what's wrong? You seem very odd today." And I couldn't answer him without a string of words and explanations followed by tears, so I kept it to myself and said nothing.
A few minutes later another lab tech came in to pass off the embryo and he said "it's a really nice one, great quality" and I closed my ears to it because I didn't want to hear that it was good quality because when it failed it would be my fault. It would be something I did. I killed off a beautiful embryo, me the mother. Oh the guilt of it.
On the way home from the transfer we stopped at Ikea and I was tired but we worked our way through the entire store and only stopped once for tea and coffee. Then we stopped at the French Home Depot and then another Home Improvement store two more hours later where I had to stop and pee because I felt a gush. The gush was likely progesterone leaking, but I was fearful that it was blood and I had reason to be fearful because it was. I was spotting and there were clumps of I don't know what on the toilet paper. My heart sunk and I felt like I had the answer already five hours after the transfer. The rest of the eight days would pass with me accepting the inevitable. At least all this was over and at least we'd be able to go on to IVF three.
And so that's why I was shocked last week. And I still can't believe the turn of events, honestly.
There is a most bizarre aspect to an FET that differs greatly from a typical IVF transfer. It's odd to swallow but you basically don't know until you show up if you'll have any embryos successfully thaw and if they do thaw well you won't know what condition they'll be in until about five minutes before "the clacker squirt." This whole aspect of the FET made me nearly vomit with anticipation when the receptionist said "go have a coffee and come back in thirty minutes (and we'll tell you the future of your entire family lineage from here on out)" Seb was very pleased to be allowed to go have a coffee and be freed from the waiting room where he always hates sitting anyway. I always bug him wringing my hands and make gibberishly, nervous wife talk (as he thumbs through a magazine tuning me out). So while he was very casual and enthusiastic about taking this little coffee break and had skipped off to get some money from a bank machine in the parking lot, I was beside myself, stunned in fear. Oh my god would they even thaw at all? Would both thaw? Would they both die? Yes they'd probably both die. They were probably dying right this second! If they died would I cry there on the spot or could I hold it until we made it to the car? I couldn't say one way or the other. Maybe I'd stay stoic for a few minutes or maybe I'd immediately burst into tears. What if they both thawed but were both awful quality. What if they were just these grade D cellular blobs and I had to wait the two weeks knowing that I hadn't a snowball's chance in hell. That could be worse! I sat there and thought. Which of the two would be worse, no chance or slowly squandering hope? I couldn't decide. Seb looked up from his coffee and Little S was holding up a Giant Kit Kat bar he'd helped himself to from beside the cash register, much to the dismay of the grumpy patron, and then suddenly it was time to go back and get The News.
"Messieur and Madame..." my heart stopped and I tried hard to take a deep breath where one wasn't available and became a little panicked at my sudden lack of oxygen. We sat down at a desk in a small office and a young, female lab assistant wearing Puma sneaker and jeans (it never ceases to amaze me how health care professionals in France get to dress) pulled out our file and pretended to review it a little so she wouldn't seem rushed and then announced dryly, "okay well you have two six day embryos and one is not doing so well and it's on the decline...(long pause) but the other is just beautiful! It's dividing and growing. It's lovely!" I eyed her suspiciously. She was glossing it over. One was shit and the other was kind of shit but she didn't want a sob scene. The standard "deliver the bad news in a good way" spiel. I wasn't buying it. Okay "whatever" lab chick. Give the same speech to the next couple. Deliver it twenty times today if it make your life any easier.
As we returned to the waiting room to await the transfer of our one "mediocre" embryo I felt that familiar sense of doom encompassing me. This was all a fiasco. A total waste of time. We'd driven to Lyon at four a.m. on a Saturday morning to complete an administrative step required by the hospital, not to have a baby. Not to get pregnant. I felt my morale sinking where I had tried so hard to keep it afloat and I asked Seb to please take Little S for a short walk around the hall so I could sit alone undistracted. He said something to me but I barely heard him. I was so lost in my thoughts I couldn't hear anything but a faint buzzing of what was probably the fluorescent lights or perhaps my brain, I wasn't sure anymore. Meanwhile Dr. Dieu strolled by, white lab coat, long, brown hair slicked back and that cunning fox grin. He regarded me slyly and slowed his step a pace and then he winked. I'm not sure why he winked or what it meant. It annoyed me though because he was obviously trying to cheer a hapless patient out of her misery and I was in no mood for it. I always think guys who wink are weird anyway. Movie stars wink. Brad Pitt winks. I don't want winks while I'm this vulnerable. It irked me this wink thing.
A few long minutes later we were called in and Dieu sat us down and asked us about Mexico. He then turned to our file and said "it's a very nice one!" and I did a mental eye roll. Not him too, please. Then he asked me to disrobe, move to the examining table and assume the position while we waited for the embryo. It's going to be a little Mexican isn't it! You leave in June right?" Seb responded enthusiastically but I stayed silent and Dieu said "what's wrong? You seem very odd today." And I couldn't answer him without a string of words and explanations followed by tears, so I kept it to myself and said nothing.
A few minutes later another lab tech came in to pass off the embryo and he said "it's a really nice one, great quality" and I closed my ears to it because I didn't want to hear that it was good quality because when it failed it would be my fault. It would be something I did. I killed off a beautiful embryo, me the mother. Oh the guilt of it.
On the way home from the transfer we stopped at Ikea and I was tired but we worked our way through the entire store and only stopped once for tea and coffee. Then we stopped at the French Home Depot and then another Home Improvement store two more hours later where I had to stop and pee because I felt a gush. The gush was likely progesterone leaking, but I was fearful that it was blood and I had reason to be fearful because it was. I was spotting and there were clumps of I don't know what on the toilet paper. My heart sunk and I felt like I had the answer already five hours after the transfer. The rest of the eight days would pass with me accepting the inevitable. At least all this was over and at least we'd be able to go on to IVF three.
And so that's why I was shocked last week. And I still can't believe the turn of events, honestly.
Monday, March 19, 2007
A spring in my step
My third beta has gone all the way up to 2953. That's a doubling time of every 30 hours. Anywhere from 24-72 hours is considered normal so I'm really pleased with those numbers. I was so nervous calling the lab again. Each time I call my heart climbs up into my throat my when someone picks up the phone.
Dr. Dieu's nurse should be phoning me tell me that I'm "doing well." For the last beta level I actually forgot that I was supposed to phone them and the nurse called me at 4:30 with a sort of annoyed tone in her voice. I guess they're used to women who don't understand the meaning of the levels. I find it odd how prompt they are with calling women for positive beta news when they are so lax about calling back for things like injection amounts and protocol during treatment. Anyway I guess I will have to call them to make sure I'm still pregnant *rolling eyes*
The next step is to make the appointment for an ultrasound around the 7-9 week mark. I'm at 5 weeks now so it will most likely be in two weeks time, not that far off. That's the next big hurdle to get past. All those looming questions. Is there a sac in there? Is it in the right place? Is the heart beating? Another few weeks of holding my breath until I can find out. I hope it passes event free.
Seb called promptly after I called the lab to ask me for the results of the beta. He's as much of an expert as anyone on HCG levels by now so he was really happy when I told him the number. I was pleased that he could finally let himself enjoy the news a little but I felt a twinge of fear in my gut when he said "so everything's going to be okay this time" I said "well, there's still the ultrasound to get through" and I asked him to hold off telling his parents until we could get past that appointment. I don't know if he'll respect my wishes because I think he's eager to tell them but I hope he can. I just hate that anyone wants to say "Wow! congratulations!! We're so excited for you!!" and his parents will surely be telling us that when I'm not quite ready to hear it.
By the way as soon as I had mentioned that the spotting had stopped on that last post I went to pee and guess what, spot! Since then there's just been a bit of brown blood, you know old blood. All this spotting isn't implantation spotting because we are well past that. And it's fresh so I guess it must be some sort of hemmorrage or further burrowing of the embryo. Who knows what causes bleeding in IVF pregnancies. It's very scary though.
I never got a chance to talk about the FET and transfer day. I'm also eager to get on the camera and do a video. Since my mom has gone I can finally get in front of the camera. With her here it was hard. I'll do that soon so you can see what a woman who has been through hell and back actually looks like.
Dr. Dieu's nurse should be phoning me tell me that I'm "doing well." For the last beta level I actually forgot that I was supposed to phone them and the nurse called me at 4:30 with a sort of annoyed tone in her voice. I guess they're used to women who don't understand the meaning of the levels. I find it odd how prompt they are with calling women for positive beta news when they are so lax about calling back for things like injection amounts and protocol during treatment. Anyway I guess I will have to call them to make sure I'm still pregnant *rolling eyes*
The next step is to make the appointment for an ultrasound around the 7-9 week mark. I'm at 5 weeks now so it will most likely be in two weeks time, not that far off. That's the next big hurdle to get past. All those looming questions. Is there a sac in there? Is it in the right place? Is the heart beating? Another few weeks of holding my breath until I can find out. I hope it passes event free.
Seb called promptly after I called the lab to ask me for the results of the beta. He's as much of an expert as anyone on HCG levels by now so he was really happy when I told him the number. I was pleased that he could finally let himself enjoy the news a little but I felt a twinge of fear in my gut when he said "so everything's going to be okay this time" I said "well, there's still the ultrasound to get through" and I asked him to hold off telling his parents until we could get past that appointment. I don't know if he'll respect my wishes because I think he's eager to tell them but I hope he can. I just hate that anyone wants to say "Wow! congratulations!! We're so excited for you!!" and his parents will surely be telling us that when I'm not quite ready to hear it.
By the way as soon as I had mentioned that the spotting had stopped on that last post I went to pee and guess what, spot! Since then there's just been a bit of brown blood, you know old blood. All this spotting isn't implantation spotting because we are well past that. And it's fresh so I guess it must be some sort of hemmorrage or further burrowing of the embryo. Who knows what causes bleeding in IVF pregnancies. It's very scary though.
I never got a chance to talk about the FET and transfer day. I'm also eager to get on the camera and do a video. Since my mom has gone I can finally get in front of the camera. With her here it was hard. I'll do that soon so you can see what a woman who has been through hell and back actually looks like.
Friday, March 16, 2007
Helplessly hoping
I'm moving cautiously even though everything so far seems to be okay. My boobs still hurt so that's reassuring and I'm definitely starting to get a little on the tired side. And the bleeding has stopped as of today. Whew! (I repeat that there is NOTHING worse than the bleeding after a positive beta...it's been grueling!)
I'll have another beta on Monday morning to be sure that everything is doubling okay. That will be the last beta before the first ultrasound.
I'm nervous. I really hope we get that far. I have to say that making the ultrasound appointment is scary. Last time I was pregnant I lost the baby the day after I made the appointment. Now I'm kind of creeped out by having to make the call again. I think I may go in and make the appointment in person. That way it's a little different and not like a whole scary deja vu thing. That is IF Monday goes well.*
The odd thing is that Seb is just as cautious as I am about it all. I didn't expect that. When I first told him about the positive beta he just said "oh really, hmm that's good" and then he just went right on with telling me about his day. I said "did you hear me?" and he said "yes but you know we'll have to see." He still hasn't showed much enthusiasm yet. I think he doesn't want to get excited because he knows it will goad me on. He's right. I have a hard time not thinking about the "what ifs" and I'm talking about the good "what ifs" if you know what I mean. For now I'm just trying to take it one day at a time, and if at all possible push it all to the back of my mind and forget about it. That seems to work well and lets face it I've had a lot of practice in that past at doing just that.
*furiously rubbing fertility doll and chanting all the while
I'll have another beta on Monday morning to be sure that everything is doubling okay. That will be the last beta before the first ultrasound.
I'm nervous. I really hope we get that far. I have to say that making the ultrasound appointment is scary. Last time I was pregnant I lost the baby the day after I made the appointment. Now I'm kind of creeped out by having to make the call again. I think I may go in and make the appointment in person. That way it's a little different and not like a whole scary deja vu thing. That is IF Monday goes well.*
The odd thing is that Seb is just as cautious as I am about it all. I didn't expect that. When I first told him about the positive beta he just said "oh really, hmm that's good" and then he just went right on with telling me about his day. I said "did you hear me?" and he said "yes but you know we'll have to see." He still hasn't showed much enthusiasm yet. I think he doesn't want to get excited because he knows it will goad me on. He's right. I have a hard time not thinking about the "what ifs" and I'm talking about the good "what ifs" if you know what I mean. For now I'm just trying to take it one day at a time, and if at all possible push it all to the back of my mind and forget about it. That seems to work well and lets face it I've had a lot of practice in that past at doing just that.
*furiously rubbing fertility doll and chanting all the while
Wednesday, March 14, 2007
Ten nerve wracking minutes
I have ten minutes before I can call the lab for the results of my second beta and you could say I'm tense. I haven't had a positive beta in quite some time but I clearly remember that moment way back when Little S was just a wee first beta and the way I paced around the kitchen wringing my hands. Not much has changed.
My boobs hurt and this is a good thing.
The bleeding has slowed and it only happens when I wipe. I have begun to hate the trip to the toilet. I have such a fear of seeing RED. Bright Glaring RED. I try not to look sometimes. I'd rather just live in a n extended bliss.
It does seem to be getting better though.
Okay only ten minutes. Probably almost time by now. Maybe I should wait ten more just to be sure. No I don't think I can. This is an eternity. Where's my reference number? That will probably take ten minutes to find!
Be right back for better or for worse...(ouch my boobs really hurt)
update: good news! beta was at 343 after 44 hours
My boobs hurt and this is a good thing.
The bleeding has slowed and it only happens when I wipe. I have begun to hate the trip to the toilet. I have such a fear of seeing RED. Bright Glaring RED. I try not to look sometimes. I'd rather just live in a n extended bliss.
It does seem to be getting better though.
Okay only ten minutes. Probably almost time by now. Maybe I should wait ten more just to be sure. No I don't think I can. This is an eternity. Where's my reference number? That will probably take ten minutes to find!
Be right back for better or for worse...(ouch my boobs really hurt)
update: good news! beta was at 343 after 44 hours
Tuesday, March 13, 2007
The call at 16dpo
There's nothing worse than this. You have to go to a blood lab to get a beta test to confirm what you already know. Your period has started. Your latest ART effort has failed and you really don't want to wait the extra two days for the real beta test day to come around. The quicker to the chase the better. Oh and besides all that the RE's secretary won't give you a next appointment until you've had the putain beta.
And strangely enough you question whether the splotch on the toilet paper wasn't orange tempura paint from your son's craft session earlier that day. It was all over your hands. You look down at your orange finger nails. It was dried but it could have soaked through when you wiped. Wait was that orange or pink? You go again just to be sure. Pink, yes definitely pink. In fact nearly red.
The lab is empty because it's a random hour of the day, four o'clock. The usual crew is there. The glasses guy does the blood draw. The one who loathes toddlers. "Hi glasses guy. It's me Miss Hopeless. Pull up a chair. I'm an easy one. No cringing and I even like to look when you put the needle in. I'm such a regular." And as you leave the lab glasses guy says in a monotone voice "you can get the results in a few hours because we aren't so busy" And you are tempted to say, "like I care..."
And so two hours later you make the dreaded call.
The lab secretary fumbles around. "Okay, okay...all good" And you sit there on the other end of the line. You're still waiting. What is she doing? And she sounds like she's tapping on a keyboard all the while.
-"Madame?" Uh I said all is good. Did you hear me?"
-"What?!"
-"It's all good. It's positive."
-"But it's not possible! What's the level?"
-"It's 197"
-"It's impossible...really you have to be kidding"
-"No not kidding. You're pregnant."
And so yes there is something worse. It's the wait in between betas while you're bleeding. And it's scarier than running a butcher's shop in a lion's den. It's scarier than hell realizing that you actually have to step up and react and lay all those emotions out on the table. The damn sheild is crumbling. The freaking hope shield.
Okay maybe it can stay up for a few days but who's kidding who here? That sucker will be at ground zero in two days.
Holy hell!
*my computer has been out for two weeks because of the work in the house and I've been going mad without the ability to Google!
And strangely enough you question whether the splotch on the toilet paper wasn't orange tempura paint from your son's craft session earlier that day. It was all over your hands. You look down at your orange finger nails. It was dried but it could have soaked through when you wiped. Wait was that orange or pink? You go again just to be sure. Pink, yes definitely pink. In fact nearly red.
The lab is empty because it's a random hour of the day, four o'clock. The usual crew is there. The glasses guy does the blood draw. The one who loathes toddlers. "Hi glasses guy. It's me Miss Hopeless. Pull up a chair. I'm an easy one. No cringing and I even like to look when you put the needle in. I'm such a regular." And as you leave the lab glasses guy says in a monotone voice "you can get the results in a few hours because we aren't so busy" And you are tempted to say, "like I care..."
And so two hours later you make the dreaded call.
The lab secretary fumbles around. "Okay, okay...all good" And you sit there on the other end of the line. You're still waiting. What is she doing? And she sounds like she's tapping on a keyboard all the while.
-"Madame?" Uh I said all is good. Did you hear me?"
-"What?!"
-"It's all good. It's positive."
-"But it's not possible! What's the level?"
-"It's 197"
-"It's impossible...really you have to be kidding"
-"No not kidding. You're pregnant."
And so yes there is something worse. It's the wait in between betas while you're bleeding. And it's scarier than running a butcher's shop in a lion's den. It's scarier than hell realizing that you actually have to step up and react and lay all those emotions out on the table. The damn sheild is crumbling. The freaking hope shield.
Okay maybe it can stay up for a few days but who's kidding who here? That sucker will be at ground zero in two days.
Holy hell!
*my computer has been out for two weeks because of the work in the house and I've been going mad without the ability to Google!
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