Dreams and False Alarms

For once, the internet was reassuring

So, after all the fabulousness that was this Monday and Tuesday (making it to 8 weeks, and seeing the baby 2x in 2 days), my progesterone level came back at 9.9. For those of you not in the know, that is not optimal. It's not insurmountable, but it's not great.

Essentially it means that my placenta, such as it is, isn't make a huge amount of progesterone. The treatment for this is progesterone supplementation, which I've been on since the IUI, so there's not much else to do. I did ask the doctor if I could increase from 1 pill 2x a day to 1 pill 3x a day, and she said "it couldn't hurt." But she was also not very concerned.  she told me about a patient who had a level of 2, and that child is now 22 years old. So clearly 9.9  isn't too bad.

From what Husband and I can tell from our extensive googling, low progesterone can trigger a miscarriage, because the low level triggers the uterus to shed the lining.  But, there isn't a clear indication, except from one site that wasn't a medical site, but rather one with a lot of angels clutter, that probably said "if you've exepreinced infertilty, you weren't meant to be a parent" so I just stopped reading that one!

Dr Calm, wonderful woman that she is, said "I'm not concerned, some patients need to stay on supplementation through 14 weeks, but given your history, I'm happy to do an ultrasound for you next week to check to see if there is a heartbeat and that the baby is still growing." Husband has an all day conference call that he can't get out of on Monday, so we're going in on Tuesday at 2:30.

Part of me feels scared, and part of me feels like, well, like maybe it's still going to be alright. The internet is practically littered with happy outcomes--women who's P4 levels were lower or the same as mine who are hold perfectly healthy babies right now. As the title says, for once, the internet was reassuring.

Also, Julia at Uncommon Misconception had a similar situation to mine: good betas and ok P4 and then it dropped and she started bleeding, now me, no bleeding (WHEW), but is has dropped from a high of 27 to 10.  One of the things that I have wondered is if I have a slight luteal phase defect--not one that occurs every month, but might be on and off. One of my friends who is a doctor reads this, so she will probably tell me I am out of my mind, but one of my pet theories is that maybe I didn't have a great corpus luteum, and that in this part of the pregnancy when the placenta is about to take over, the corpus luteum is running out of steam, but the placenta isn't ready to take over yet. (**Yup, friends says I full of it, and to not believe my crackpot theories!) The endometrian, doesn't show up in your blood stream (but the prometreum and the shots do), so maybe in my uterus it's like a 40, but in my blood its a 10.  Again, this just me speculating.

Anyhoodle, please please please let my baby be alive and growing on Tuesday.

Off to the chiropractor and to make Rugelach with my mom.

And let the vacillation commence***updated

So, after all of my hand wringing and logic, and then reverse logic maneuvers earlier in the week, a friend who is a Radiologist emailed to say, 7 weeks is when they really like to do them, 5 weeks will likely just freak you out, and 6 weeks is ok with her. She made her arguments a lot more cogently than that, but the upshot was, Husband finally voiced his feelings about not wanting to do the ultrasound on the 23rd, and I admitted that I was a bit scared of it, and how it would be both reassuring and not so reassuring. So I've split the difference: I nabbed an appointment for the 30 ( abt 6w3d), and kept the one for the 23rd, and left the doctor a message about whether or not to come in on the 23rd at all. Whew. I feel good enough about this, but ya know, I won't feel good about anything until it's clearly in the ute, clearly alive, and healthy. And then we'll negotiate with my inner mafia, eh?

In symptoms, small meals are becoming a must. I often eat a largish lunch because I have to work from late afternoon through evening, and that is NOT a good idea. Today I had cereal at 5:30, eggs and toast at 8:30 (seemed like too much, even though it was really small), and then just ate apple and almond butter. Oh, and I had a mid morning pastry (morning bun--nary a pep from my digestive tract, guess the baby likes butter, flour and sugar).  The nausea seems to just flash on, as soon as I'm a little hungry, and then I have trouble getting a deep breath. My allergist told me that the reflux acts like asthma, so when I get that feeling, I nibble, and it seems to help.

The peeing has begun. I never really got the peeing thing with Sparky, only at night, but now, it's happening a lot. One cup of water = 3 trips to the bathroom.

Yesterday I managed to freak myself out a bit, but I didn't consult Dr Google, no that's not entirely true, I looked up round ligament pain, which I did have with Sparky because of all the inflammation after the IVF cycle.  But, I didn't look up ectopic pregnancy. I was very strong. I had some pain in my left groin area which I think is my psoas muscle and bit of constipation. I know, lovely.  I stopped by the Pilates studio I love and got some instruction on what and how to stretch, and a few stretches later, and I'm feeling better.

Hang in if you can, it's just gonna get more angsty and graphic. Oy.

 

***The  doctor wants to see me on the 23rd! YAYAYAYAY! I want to go, now I just need good news.

A wee change in plans

So yesterday, when the Zen was leaving me an I was obsessing over how to figure out if my 'baby' was a 'blighted ovum' via any little piece of data I posses (yeah, all I did was freak myself out), I realized that the day of my ultrasound (Nov 23rd), would only find me 5w3d pregnant, and that would probably be too early to reliably tell if there was a real baby developing in there. I think what happened was that my nurse, who primarily deals with IVF, counted two weeks from my IUI rather than 5 days from my IUI which is the earliest I could have conceived (meaning the wee embryo would have descended in the the ute), and thus my ultrasound should have been the Friday after Thanksgiving, but since they are only open for retrievals/transfers and emergencies. Oy.  Of course, the following Monday is currently booked or locked (they lock aspects of the schedule, and then unlock them later...)  So, at this point, I don't have an appointment for an ultrasound. But I will, but I don't.

My breasts are still less than completely agonizingly sore, but they are sore, and I don't get to freak out about it, or so I'm told.

I'm continuing to have the post lunch pre dinner nausea and exhaustion, which descends between 12 and 2 and lifts around 6.  I'm thinking me and Cold Case are gonna get to be real good friends.

Yesterday I finally started to have a little bit of cramping--I'm taking this as a good sign, because my tendency is to make everything an emergency. It is very mild, and short and not painful, but surprising. I am not a cramper in general, so just feeling my uterus is sort of jarring.

Another really odd thing is that I'm warm. Duh, but still, for a person who is usually cold, to throw off her bathrobe and bemoan the fact that the heat is on in the morning when she comes into the kitchen, is weird. Also, iced mint tea in the am. Yum. Again, I love HOT tea, but this must be part of the symptoms.

I feel sort of icky in the morning, but not anything like the afternoon. 

So I'm just going to try to chug along, and not get to freaked out. Yeah, that'll be easy.

Sevenfiftysix/sevenfiftysix/sevenfiftysix/sevenfiftysixsevenfiftysix/sevenfiftysix...

This is what I repeat to myself when I start to get anxious about the viability of this pregnancy.  It isn't any sort of guarantee, but it is what I have to hold onto at the moment.

As far as symptoms go, Dr Google assures me that until 6 weeks, I can't expect to have too many.  I am beyond bloated, it's really quite, uh, impressive. And from the TMI stand point, my tail pipe emissions have prompted my husband to note that this is going to be a long 9 months.  It doesn't really seem to matter what I eat, the result is the same--body is doing it's best to extract every last molecule of nutrients from my food.  And it is, in its own way reassuring.

I am eagerly awaiting the onslaught of breast tenderness, but keep reminding myself that when I was pregnant with Sparky I was extremely bloated, all over, from being on the verge of hyper stimulation from the IVF cycle, and that at about 7 weeks, my breasts REALLY started to hurt, and get veiny and the transformation of the nips was astounding (pinkish brown to purple). They have been getting progressively more tender and a sleep bra has been included, so there is some way I can reassure myself.

I'm also intermittently nauseas. If I eat a piece of toast first in the morning, I'm fine, but if I don't, not so fine. The worst is afternoon--it seems like whatever I've eaten earlier backs up, and just sits there.  Also, do not offer me anything with cinnamon. I love cinnamon, but it can make me nauseated in a nanosecond.  My husband likes chai tea, and to me, it just smells horrible. Aside from that, the bionic sniffer isn't too strong.  But certain things taste more bitter to me than usual, and that is oddly reassuring.  I'm also having heartburn on and off, so that seems positive. I'm also getting a wee bit of insomnia. I'm not anxious, or hungry or anything, but I'm awake at odd hours of the night and cant get back to sleep.

One thing that hasn't happened, so far, that happened by day 5 of my pregnancy with Sparky, was brown spotting. I haven't had a speck of spotting, brown or otherwise, and I'm hoping that trend continues.  I do have the afternoon endo.metiran gush, which gives me a few hours of stress. But I keep reminding myself that if it were blood, and it were that thin and gushy, I'd know immediately. The brown stuff is more like sludge, and doesn't' give you any warning.

One other unfortunate thing is that I'd let my weight sort of pile up. I was planning to go back to a lower carb way of life during the ramp up part of the DE cycle, and increase my Pilates workouts (from about 0 to at least 2) so that I'd be in a better place with my body if I got a positive out of the DE cycle. Best laid plans etc. So I'm starting this pregnancy in my fat pants.  And let me tell you, with all the bloating, there has been some rubber-band button action already. Ugh.  I bought a pair of pretty stretch cords earlier in the week, so hopefully I can make them last through at least week 8 (which is the week we found out that Sparky had died, so that's gonna be a bit of a nail biter for us). And I do have maternity jeans, but they require a longer shirt.  I'm clearly not going on a diet, but oy. I'm not a big fan of the Bella band--it just feels awkward and lumpy.

I can't believe that tomorrow is the 1 week anniversary of getting my first ever positive HPT, and that lovely high HCG number.  On a scale of 1 to 10, I'd say my worry level is about a 4. For me, this is practically Zen detachment.  I find myself excited, and hopeful more often than I imagined I could ever be.  What a difference a year and a half, and heck of a lot of grieving has made.

A funny thing happened on the way to the DE cycle...

Yup, I'm pregnant.

I didn't even have a category for 'Pregnant' until just now...wow. Sorry the picture isn't too good, but I haven't figured out how to get pictures off the camera yet. So this is from my phone.

I was all prepped to start the DE cycle PDQ, and on Monday morning I decided I'd just pee on the one stick I had in the house so I'd know if I needed to bring my progesterone supplement with me to my blood draw.  I dipped the it in, set it on the back of the toilet, and looked at it expecting to see the usual stark white expanse leading up to the test line. You could have knocked me over with a feather when that first line pinked up.  It was 5:30 in the morning, and I was flummoxed. I kept trying to decide if I should wake husband and finally I decided not to, a decision he strenuously objected to once I told him at 7!  I kept thinking "I used to have a plan for how I'd do this, right? What was it?" I just walked around sort of numbly, clutching the pee stick, and staring at it.

Off I went to my blood draw, playing it all cool, and casually inquiring whether they were planning to check my progesterone level as well, they usually don't, but what the heck, right? 

I had two work engagements that morning, and of course no sense of when they'd call, but I warned the people I was with that I was expecting a very important call.

When Dr Calm finally called at 1 pm, I was sure I was going to die from waiting.

1st Beta: 302 and progesterone at 27.

HOLY SHIT! That is some seriously high HCG!  My beta with Sparky was 101, which is average, so also good, but 302 was lovely to hear.

I told a very few people between Monday and today. For me, the second beta is always the most nerve wracking because you need to see that climb, and if you don't see it, oy. So I drove myself to the clinic, managed to not hit any other cars, or drive too slowly (which I do when I'm tired or upset), and cried on and off. But I also had moments of feeling like it was going to be ok, and that was a good feeling.

The waiting game started at 11--the earliest I'd ever gotten a call, but 2, I was nearly apoplectic.  Finally, my nurse called to say:

2nd Beta: 756, and progesterone at 24 (she assures me it is a normal fluctuation, I'm going to try to just believe her...)

So as you can imagine we are pretty, good lord, is there a word to describe this feeling? Excited? Scared? Awed? Overjoyed?

All of them.

Of course, we are realistic, we know numbers don't guarantee that there is an actual viable baby growing in there, but we've never gotten this far on our own. By that I mean, minimal IUI, and progesterone support. I'm feeling sort of, uh, normal? Or like I can imagine that sometimes you put sperm and egg together and something good happens. 

Our next hurdle is the 6 week ultrasound on Monday Nov 23rd at 11am. Wish us a real baby with a beating heart, pretty please.

Wow.

I would love to post a picture of my hcg chart, but my silly computer won't do it without getting all huffy.

Vacillation

It's about 24ish hours before our next scan, where we must see the heart beat to be considered a viable pregnancy. I'm somewhere between zen like calm, and having horrible nightmares.

My sister was quite reassuring yesterday, she remembered having the brown discharge, which is a huge relief to hear. We are pretty similar physically (except that she has a very high pain tolerance and I notice every gust of wind), so that was really good to hear.

I was a champion drinker yesterday (of non-alcoholic beverages, of course), and that seemed to make my uterus much less crampy. I think I've been borderline dehydrated for a while now.

Two things that concern me:
I do have to get up to pee in the night, but during the day I'm not really needing to pee all that much.
Certain smells bother me (garlic, maple syrup, cigarette smoke, perfume), but other than that, I'm not too overwhelmed by scents.

Sorry for the lack of a juicy post, I'm keeping my sanity by not thinking too much.

So far, so good

The news is good so far. Since we are either 6 weeks 0 days or 5 weeks 7days (wow! ambiguity even when conceived in a lab!), they didn't' see the fetal pole or heartbeat, but we did see one well sized and well placed gestational sac and yolk sack. There is a very tiny bit that is likely the fetal pole,but it wasn't pulsing yet, but the doctor said that was fine.

We're going back on Friday for another. I hope that is long enough for the little heart to show up.

Holy crap, there's really something in there!

Calm before the storm

Today is the big day, and so far I'm holding steady.  I'm sure I'll get really nervous in the parking lot, as usual.

I was thinking back to the day of my IUI in March and the woman who was in the waiting room awaiting her 6 week scan. She kept talking about it as the 'day we find out how many are in there.'  That seems so luxurious to me.  I'm too plagued with DBT (Dead Baby Thoughts) to ever utter that optimistic of a sentence.

Bear with me people, I'll update this afternoon.

Reassurance

Today I decided to distract myself by cleaning out some old files and making room for some new ones.

I came across this poem that a friend sent me during college.

Reassurance, by Alice Walker

I must love the questions
themselves
as Rilke said
like locked rooms
full of treasure
to which my blind
and groping key does not yet fit.

and await the answers
as unsealed
letters
mailed with dubious intent
and written in a very foreign
tongue.

and in the hourly making
of myself
no thought of Time
to force, squeeze
the space
I grow into.

In a little more than 24 hours we'll know if we've cleared the next hurdle.

Shall we place bets on whether I'll be in Trader Joe's when my water breaks?

Ok, so maybe that is an overly confident title for this early in the game, but geeze, TJ's has been playing a much more prominent role in this gestation than I would have ever imagined.

On Friday afternoon I used the bathroom at TJ's and saw dark brown discharge. I tried to calm myself down,but it was not easy.  I rushed home and planted myself firmly on the couch with some OJ and mineral water and began to fret in earnest. I called the IVF nurse who told me what to worry about (bright red blood and cramps), and then I started to get cramps. I called the doctor on call, and he reassured me as well, but offered that I could come in for a repeat beta on Saturday. Boy howdy did I accept that offer fast.

We made it to the clinc with moments to spare and I got the best phlebotomist in the place (never a bruise from her!).  That was at 10 am. At 11:30 the doctor called to say that the level was 1163!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  Ok, so now I need to calm down, right?

A few more weeks until we see the heart beat and then the miscarriage rate goes down to 7%. At our ultrasound next week (either Monday or Friday) we'll probably just be able to confirm that its in the uterus.  That will be rather nice too.

Bear with me, I'm just completely neurotic.

I really didn't want to be one of those infertiles who was constantly checking her underwear, and worrying every minute, but as my father pointed out, in the 37 years he's known me, he's never known me not to worry.

I just peed on another HPT. Still positive.

Yeesh. I annoy myself sometimes.