Cycle #3

My due date for the blighted ovum came and went over the weekend. I spent the day sort of thinking about it and then working around the house. We moved this weekend, so I was distracted and excited about that. But that didn’t stop me from feeling sad or wondering what I would be doing if we had that baby. I know I wouldn’t have this great new house, but I’d rather be in a small house and have that baby.

This was the first time I passed a due date without being pregnant. I started spotting on Sunday morning (CD 22 – I think it was due to all the moving and carrying stuff around). Thanks for the reminder, body! You’re awesome! AF came for sure on Tuesday morning. That marks our third cycle of Actively Trying (Again).

I know, I know. Three cycles. BFD. I’m in the ALI blogworld, three cycles of trying is nothing to this community. Only three cycles is barely even starting. But I’m still scared. I’ve been pregnant 4 times. Every time was on the 1^st month of trying (or - in the case of my only successful pregnancy – during a month when we weren’t trying yet). That’s awesome and lucky for us. Now I’ve been actively trying for 3 months and nothing has happened. I’ve read enough about secondary infertility to be afraid. I’m trying to be proactive about it. I’ve been tracking my cycles since the beginning of the year. I won’t bore you with the details, but they are short. I’m starting to wonder exactly when I ovulate. I don’t do temping because I don’t think I could do it right. 

So I bought 20 ovulation sticks from a cheapie website (the same one where I bought a billion pregnancy tests) and I’m going to start peeing on them as soon as I get them. And then I’m scheduling a massage for myself near the middle of this month. I’m going to be relaxed and calm. And if this doesn’t work, I’m not going to panic. I’m going to stick it out and just keep trying because this is normal. I will, however, be contacting my doctor after 6 months of trying. Keep your fingers crossed for us! 

Check in - TTC Cycle #2

A quick check in to wallow in my own ridiculousness. We are in cycle #2 of Trying Again. I’m already so sick of Trying Again. My body is playing tricks on me. I have sore boobs constantly and then they go away. Last cycle I was actually wincing in pain while I walked, but then AF showed up a few days early. I am easily fooled, so when the hurting went on for several days this month, I actually peed in a cup with M standing there to see the results. Then he was sad when nothing showed up. I’m a jerk.

I’m still in the game this cycle, but not holding my breath. I realize that we’re only on the second cycle of Trying Again and I have no reason to be so crabby (except for PMS, I suppose). I'm writing this with a secret hope that I can prove myself wrong by Friday. 

My commenting zeal has faded in the past few months. That doesn’t mean I’m not reading or not caring. Lots of us are back on this wagon again and I’m quietly rooting for you guys, just like I know you’re quietly rooting for me. I think it’s amazing that so many of my buddies here are too busy to write much. 

Happy little house

We spent this weekend packing up our house. We decided it was a good time to move. This winter we talked about moving, but then decided to stay in our current house because we were going to have a baby this fall.

Then we weren’t having a baby anymore. Now’s the time to move. I’m not pregnant and W is big enough to entertain himself. Perfect timing.

We have a lot of work to do to stage our house. I pulled books off bookshelves – I left only the books that people would see and have “good thoughts” about. I took away books about politicians so I wouldn’t offend someone on the other side of politics (although someone on the “other side” might not fit in our neighborhood that well). I took out silly books. I left bestsellers and mainstream series. I left all of my pregnancy and baby books. I took out all of the pregnancy loss and grief books. Then I worried about offending someone who might walk in my house. What if she is suffering from infertility and seeing W’s room makes her sad? What if seeing those books makes her sad? Ultimately I decided to keep the happy pregnancy and baby books. Wouldn’t you want to move to a house that has “happy living child” vibes?

Look at this lovely house, folks!! No baby loss here! Nothing to see but happy faces! 

I’m also planning to take my little tree with us when we move. I haven’t told anyone about this. I’m sure M will go along with it. I figured that a few days before we leave, I’ll go buy a similar tree and dig up the current one. No one will notice or care. But I’ll know. Our current house backs up to walking paths and I will be able to see the back yard when I’m out on walks. It would kill me if someone dug up my little tree and threw it away. So it’s moving with me. My little tree will always be safe. 

Three Years

Tomorrow W will be two. We’ve already had the birthday party, so in my mind he is a two year old. He’s a sweet, funny little kid now. He will steal your nose and then put it back. He’ll cry for mommy and hit if he doesn’t get his way. He’ll hug me tight and push me away. He’ll eat more than me some nights and other nights he’ll be all done after eating one grape. He loves potatoes. He hates potatoes. He loves Ernie and shoes.

I still cry at night when I rock him to sleep. It’s been two years, but I still can’t believe that he’s mine. Words can’t describe how grateful I am to have him.

It’s been 3 years since we lost our little baby boy and sometimes it still feels like yesterday. Other times it seems like a lifetime ago. I remember when I first started reading blogs and seeing stories where the woman was a year or two out from her loss (or losses) and had a child. I remember thinking that I would never get that far and wondering what I’d be like when I got to that point. Would I have a baby? Would I have more than one?

Hopefully next year I’ll be happily on the road to a second baby or have one in my arms!

Internet Friends!

If I were a better writer, I’d have an awesome post here today. I’d tell a cute anecdote about my first memories of posting on BBC in May 2009 and then bring it full circle to meeting some amazing friends almost 3 years later. But I’m not, so I’ll just try not to cry while I write this!

Way back in the beginning, before I even started writing here, I was posting on a babycenter board. It was for anyone who had lost a baby due in November 2009. I think I found them a day or two after the D&C and I posted about it there. It was a sad place, but so welcoming. The group kept growing after I was there and each new girl arrived with a new heartbreaking story. The posts were mostly about our feelings and dealing with grief. I think the group had close to 90 members in the beginning. It took a while, but we started to know each other better and eventually we moved to facebook where we could share pictures easier and we’ve become pretty involved in each other’s daily lives. The group has almost 40 members now and about 20 or so participate regularly.

So three years of having these people in my life. We’ve been there through so much with each other. We’ve celebrated babies and we’ve cried through multiple losses. We’ve also argued with each other, of course. Just because we all lost babies doesn’t mean that we’re all best friends! In a group this large you are going to find a few people that you just click with better than others.

Last fall, the idea that a bunch of girls should meet each other came up again. We always talked about it and that time it really stuck. We talked and talked and voted and voted some more. Eventually we settled on Chicago in April. After that, the hardest part was jumping in and actually booking the whole thing. I had the miscarriage in January and I needed a pick up, so I booked my flight. Then the whole thing started rolling. We had 10 girls that could make the trip. TEN! Amazing.

One of the girls found out she was having a threatened miscarriage the day before we were scheduled to leave. She decided not to come, and I can’t blame her. I’m so sad that she missed the trip and the fun, but I understand completely and would have done the same thing. She wasn’t far from our minds all weekend (and things are looking up now).

As the trip got closer, I started talking about it more and more to the people around me. I tried to be vague. “I’m going on a girl’s weekend trip to Chicago!” and people would usually let that drop. But people that know my friends would want to know what group I was going with. Do you know how many strange looks you get when you say that you are going to meet your internet friends for a full weekend? So then I’d have to clarify and say that I was meeting girls that I met when I had a miscarriage in 2009 and I’ve been talking to them since then. I still don’t think most people understood.

You always hear people say that a tragedy brings people closer. I believe that. And after our personal tragedies, we all still had that cover of being “anonymous” to talk to each other about our lives and issues that you don’t want to discuss with the people in your daily life. Discussions about our families, our fears and our bathroom habits happen every day. I know more about these girls than I know about some friends that I see regularly.

And then, last Friday, I got onto a plane and hugged some of those girls. I wasn’t surprised at my emotions when I met them. I cried so much! Then I was shaking! Then I was crying some more! Here they were, the girls I had only seen in pictures. I could hear their voices and hug them. And they hugged back! The weekend with them was surreal. I felt like I was with a bunch of old friends. The conversation was easy. We could talk about anything without having to explain a bunch of backstory. Everyone already knew that I was inappropriate. I was lucky enough that the ones I’ve grown closest to were there and I’m now so much closer to the other girls that were there.

Amazing. And to think I wouldn’t have them if I hadn’t been through the miscarriage. They are my silver lining.

The actual cost of miscarriage

Let’s talk about one of the jerky-est parts of miscarriage:

The bills.

The constant reminder of what happened to you. The mailbox is no longer an awesome source of US Weekly. It is now a place filled with insurance statements and bills and re-bills.

Re-bills? Didn’t you forget? You were so shaken and angry that you filled out your debit card information wrong. So you get the bill again.

Then you find out that your employer forgot to renew the debit cards and that all expired on March 1^st… the same day you mailed back several of the large bills.

So you are standing there in the afternoon, over two months since your miscarriage and you are still getting bills in the mail and your US weekly is late.

I need to insert a disclaimer. I have awesome insurance and I realize that I am one of the lucky ones. My miscarriage didn’t cost me anything. I was able to make the decision to get a D&C without having to worry about the cost. My job provides me with a debit card to cover my deductible every year. I am not complaining about them forgetting to renew the card. That was a minor inconvenience overall, but it extended the crappyness.

Last time, I cried when I got the bills and I paid them and just got mad. I noticed that the bills were high. I kept track this time.

As of March 22, the total cost of my D&C (excluding copays) was $4,468.79. That is not cheap. My insurance covered about 80% of that. My total cost was $966.87.

Again, I didn’t have to pay anything. How would my decision change if I had to pay that much out of pocket? I know I would have had to stop and think about it. We are not in a position where we couldn’t pay that amount, so I would have still had the surgery. I’m fully aware that not everyone can take the surgery route because of the cost. My heart goes out to anyone who has to deal with stress about money in addition to everything else.

Feeling Sad

This kind of came on suddenly. But I think it's par for the course. Last time I felt fine for a while and then got pretty upset about it all over again. I should know to expect these ups and downs.

And I know why I'm sad. The parade of March babies has begun. I'm so happy for my friends. I was bursting with excitement last night and this morning when I got the news and learned the name of a baby I'm going to love so much.

But still. It hurts. I'll be there again someday. Just not soon enough. This month is going to be rough for me. Two more babies to go. I'll be so happy. Then I'll cry some more. I'll get through it.

Checks and Balances

I apologize in advance for the strong language. I know a lot of you are kinder than me, but sometimes I can only really get my feelings out with a loud f-bomb.

I’m writing this while a friend of mine sits in waiting rooms. She’s in the process of post-miscarriage appointments. The worst appointments. The ones where people don’t really know what to say to you. You make pleasantries to the girl who takes your blood pressure, even though it doesn’t matter what your blood pressure is. Everything sucks anyway. You pay your copay and want to yell at the credit card slip to fuck itself. This shit should be free.

This isn’t even about me, but I’m taking it personally. My online group suffered a rash of repeat losses in January. I was one of them. I was pissed off. Right around the same time, one of the girls found out she was pregnant. She’s had multiple losses, struggles to get pregnant and is one of the few in the group who doesn’t have that rainbow baby we all dream about. And, yet, she’s probably the most supportive one we have in the group. Why is it always the best ones?

I thought to myself that all would be right with the world if only this one girl could have her baby. That would make things seem fair, in some crazy way. I’m not saying that I was ok with losing my baby or that I made a deal with God or anything. I didn’t do that. But I thought that in some way, all of these lost babies could be a way to shift the statistics in her favor.

Then she saw a heartbeat for the first time. And maybe, just maybe, the statistics were going to work out.

But they didn’t and the world fucked us all over one more time.

Of course the world doesn’t work that way. Fuck Fuck Fuck.

Take some time in your heart and send some love to my friend. She’s a true gem in this world and doesn’t deserve this. None of us do.

Body Issues

I feel chatty today. Just a warning. I'm all over the place here.

Yesterday I went into a certain cheap clothing store to get some yoga pants. Not because I do yoga or anything, but because I like to wear sweatpants around the house. M thinks that sweatpants are gross and make me look like I’m letting myself go. We had a “rule” at our house that sweatpants could not be worn before 8 pm. That “rule” kind of faded with all of my exceptions (rain, dark, snow, pregnancy, post-pregnancy, periods, bad day, hungry, cold, etc). Now it is a joke because I come home from work and sometimes find him already in sweatpants. The yoga pants are a great compromise. My butt looks good and I’m comfy. We’re both happy!

While I was browsing, I saw that the jeans were only $19! Hooray! I spent a long time standing and deciding what shape and what size and what everything. It requires some real analysis of your own body right there in the front of the store. I thought critically about myself and my needs and then picked out two styles and headed back to try on. The fitting room lady told me that someone in the store could asses my jeans needs and tell me which type I need. I’m not cool with that. I picked my own, thanks.

This is where the post gets appropriate for a pregnancy blog.

I’m not really into diets or weight loss. I don’t usually obsess over my body shape. I’m pretty comfortable. But this weird no-woman’s land is getting me down. I don’t fit into any of my pants. I could do something about it, but I want to get pregnant soon (trying again this summer… we decided we didn’t want a winter baby). There’s no reason for me to bust my ass just to get fat all over again. I could buy new pants, but they would just be good for a few months before they (hopefully) wouldn’t fit right again. All of my work pants are too tight or too loose. I bought some jeans in January, but I was having a fat, grumpy day. You can imagine how well those fit when I’m trying to go out to a fancy bar in NYC with some friends! Ha!

SAGGY BUTT!!!

So I picked two pairs out of the four. One in each style. One that does not have saggy butt and one that does not produce muffin top. Nowhere in the world will I ever find $19 jeans that eliminate saggy butt and muffin top. The muffin top pants are not REALLY bad. And the saggy butt pants are also not REALLY bad. They will do for now. And they will each meet some needs.

I deserve it. I’m good enough for $19 jeans!

In other news: I’m doing very well. Having a real plan helps me move on. I’m also pretty good at Not Thinking About It. When my mind starts wandering down the …how far along would I be… road, I need to stop and take a breath. I can’t tell you right now how far along I would be. Now I really want to check, but I won’t let myself. That helps. Denial is awesome.

We’re going to try again in June or July. M wants June… I’m leaning towards July. We’ll see if I keep that resolve when June actually arrives. I have a pretty busy March followed by an insanely busy April and then a sort of busy May. Hopefully the time will fly. I’m thinking a lot about what happens next time and the thoughts aren’t all sunshine and unicorns. I mean, who seriously debates morning vs. afternoon appointments because of the availability of surgery the next day?

Now that I’ve brought everyone down… some cheery W stuff!

W still astonishes me every day. He’s been slow to talk, but now it seems like he has a new word every day. Ernie! Hug! Apple! He’s in a toddler bed now and makes me lay down with him each night for some cuddles. I’m a softie. I love it. I spent a weekend away and was terrified that M would have trouble getting him to sleep. But he did just fine without me, proving that I am the problem when it comes to too many cuddles. But really, how could I not cuddle that kid? Every second I have with him seems like a miracle. I’m amazed every day that he exists, that he is mine. I tell myself every night that I’m so lucky that I get to rock him to sleep. The poor kid, I’ll still be rocking him to sleep when he’s 10.

Follow up

I’m back from the follow up appointment. It was pretty typical. No pants, which always makes me uneasy. The doctor gave me the usual speech, but she was very nice about it. That made me cry because I cry when people are nice to me. Everything looks normal. We are to wait one cycle and then we’re free to try again.

She gave me the option of getting my uterus checked for polyps or anything out of the ordinary. She didn’t think it was necessary, though, because I have W. And I agree.

I’ll talk to M tonight about the appointment and maybe we’ll discuss what happens next.

I did email my friend about her pregnancy and her reply was great. I think she was happy that I reached out to her. I’m lucky to have friends like that.

How I'm feeling now

It’s been 2 weeks since we found out there is no baby. I am doing much better than I did last time. Physically, I’m back to normal. I bled for about a week. It was just like a regular period. I’m finished with the antibiotics (those were a pain – I had to take them 1 hour before eating or 2 hours after eating. I rarely go 3 hours without eating). My boobs have gone back to normal size. I’m taking the normal one-a-day vitamin. I need to start taking folic acid again (which I will always take as long as we don’t have any kind of “real” birth control going on). Maybe tomorrow.

Again, this is not as hard as last time. Having W is the difference. How can I be sad with that little boy running through the house shouting “GO! GO! GO!” I KNOW that I can have a baby. I really believe that I will have another one. Knowing that is a huge help. Last time I wasn’t so sure. I’m really just writing to remember. I’ve been re-reading my posts from the last time and it helps me so much to know that I got through that.

One thing is different. I am surrounded by pregnant people that are close to me. My neighbor. My cousin. My sister in law. My close friend. Another good friend. And that doesn’t count the baby born last week to friends on our street. Last time I had one pregnant friend and she knew everything and I never felt anything but happiness for her. I feel different to each one. I’m writing out all of those feelings here. It’s hard to explain why I feel so different towards every single pregnant person I know. I always think of the pregnant people who ask, “how do I act around my friend who just had a miscarriage?” There is no one size fits all. I’m all over the place and I’m one person!

I’m happy and nervous for my neighbor. She’s had a hard pregnancy and really doesn’t complain that much. They’ve been cautious about the pregnancy and I’ve heard them say “if” and “hopefully” a few times. They don’t have any history that would make them talk this way, but it kind of makes me feel like they appreciate this more. I haven’t spent a lot of time with them in the past two weeks. We were there for a few minutes on Sunday after the D&C and I had a hard time trying to cheer her up when she talked about some of the problems she is facing (early contractions and possible bedrest). In a weird way, I want to do everything I can for her. I want to help her and I want everything to be perfect.

Of course I’m over the moon excited about my cousin and my sister in law. I’m also devastated that I won’t be adding to the family in the same year. It’s going to be hard for me when these babies start arriving. My cousin (due in March) knows that we wanted to start trying, but doesn’t know what happened. I don’t really want to tell her. I’m going to see her in a few weeks to give her a few of our baby things (to borrow… who knows when I’ll need them back). My SIL asked me constantly and wanted us to be pregnant together. I ended up telling her the news the last time she asked. I didn’t want her to ask me all the time. She was kind of upset that I hadn’t told her about the pregnancy the day we found out and begged me to not make her wait until 12 weeks next time. I told her she will have to wait until we see a heartbeat no matter what.

The close friend due in march… she’s the one that has been rubbing me the wrong way. It’s not the first time that she’s said something out of place or made me feel bad. This time was a real doozy, though. “If it makes you feel any better the stupid iron supplement is making me constipated as anything. Did the doc say how long until you guys can start trying again?” I’ve limited my contact with her since receiving that email. I really don’t know what to say to that. We normally have lunch once a week – I bowed out last week and was very happy to find out she couldn’t make it this week. I’m not sure when I’ll be able to see her again. I’ve been planning a small sprinkle for her (this is her second baby), but I’ve lost my enthusiasm for it. I’m letting another friend take the lead on that.

I just found out about the other good friend. We had a guy friend over last weekend and he told us about it. I didn’t feel upset when I heard the news. I haven’t cried and thought “WHY NOT ME!” or anything. I’ll see her this weekend for the superbowl. I want to make sure she knows that I’m happy and that I want to hear about it. Now that I think about it, I should email her. I don’t think she knows that I know. I don’t want her to be afraid of telling me or feel like she can’t be happy around me. She does know about this loss, her husband was at the bachelor party that M was supposed to go to. He told all of his guy friends – I said there was no reason to keep it a secret, why make them wonder why he was missing something like that?

The last one, and one I feel pretty upset about, is the baby born last week. The parents are very nice people (too nice to be our friends) and they have a son that is 7 months older than W. That means they had a baby right about when our November baby should have been born. I remember them telling us they were pregnant with their older son and listening to the dad talk about how he couldn’t wait to hold the baby and smell that sweet newborn smell. This was a few weeks after that loss for us and it was a bit much for me to deal with (they didn’t know). We’ve become friends with them and our boys play together all the time and go to the same daycare. Having their new baby born a few days after this D&C has been rough. I’ve said the right things and sent them congratulations, but I can’t bring myself to go see the baby. Or listen to them ask when we’re going to have another. Again.

That’s what’s really bothering me this time around. I’ve been asked at least 5 times when we’re having another baby. Daycare, family that doesn’t know, neighbors, co-workers. It’s hard not to feel down on myself when these conversations come up. I want to shout at them all to shut up. Tell them that my body just can’t do it right. I kind of want to make them feel bad for asking. But I don’t. I tell them all “Someday” and change the subject.

I don’t really know the answer to that question anyway. M and I haven’t discussed it. We do need to talk about it because I need to have a plan in place. Maybe tomorrow.

My follow up appointment is tomorrow. I’ll get checked out. Maybe some more bloodwork. She’ll tell me to wait 2-3 cycles and then try again.

Managing the fear

I’m linking up to Finding my New Normal because of her questions:

How do you manage the fear during a pregnancy after loss? Is it even possible to manage fear? Are there any tools or strategies you used? Did they work? What advice would you share with those of us going through it right now?

I’m in a weird place to answer this question. My current plan for the next pregnancy is complete denial. That probably isn’t the most healthy way to deal with things.

First, some background in case you are here from the links. I lost my first pregnancy at 5 weeks, 3 days. It was a natural miscarriage. I think it was a chemical pregnancy. I lost my second at 14 weeks, 3 days. I had a D&C. It was a healthy baby boy, we found out later than I have a blood clotting disorder. I had a healthy, perfect son (W) a year later. I just had a blighted ovum last week. I was 7 weeks, 2 days. I had another D&C.

I can answer about what I did when I was pregnant with W. I was afraid. The nights where I cried myself to sleep far outnumbered the nights where I felt like everything would be ok.

The beginning of the pregnancy was the hardest part. I often felt like there was no hope at all. I told my doctor that I was scared. That was a big step for me. I don’t want to be the PITA patient. I want to be the one that no one remembers because I don’t create a hassle and things are just fine. But I spoke up and said that I needed to be reassured. I needed to come in more often. And you know what? She agreed. I went in every two weeks until I started feeling the baby move (just flutters, but that was good enough for me). Seeing the baby gave me some relief. It might have only lasted a few days, but it was better than waiting a month between appointments.

I did not get a Doppler. I discussed it with my husband and he didn’t want us to get one. He thought it would cause more stress if we couldn’t find the heartbeat on our own. I think he was right about that. It wasn’t the right choice for us.

Writing about my fears made it more manageable. I wasn’t just sitting around with worst-case scenarios running through my mind all the time. I wrote out what I was feeling and had others tell me they felt the same way. This blog and other internet friends made the real difference.

I started to feel more positive after the anatomy scan. One of the side effects of being in the ALI community is that you are hyper-aware of what can go wrong. Seeing a healthy baby on the screen and feeling him move during the scan was the turning point for me. I decided to stop thinking what might happen and think only about having our baby home with us. I still had a hard time saying “when” instead of “if,” but it’s easier to believe when a baby is keeping you awake all night with kicks!

My best advice is to get a support system. Find a blogger who is in your situation. Find a rainbow baby group on babycenter (stay away from the regular birth clubs!). Express what you feel. The internet is an amazing outlet!

And have some hope. That is hard for me to say right now, but it’s what I would have told myself a week ago. Keep hoping.

Friday

W was sent home sick from daycare on Thursday, so we spent the day snuggling and trying to feel better. It was actually kind of nice. I was sad that he was sick, but a day of holding him tight was just what I needed.

My MIL came over on Friday morning to stay home with W and we left for the hospital. I was sent back to my room as soon as we arrived, which was sort of nice. I got into my paper dress and they took blood and asked questions and started my IV. M came back when that was all done. Then we waited. After a while, I played with the personal heating system that plugged into my paper dress. I was happy to be warm. The surgery was supposed to start at 11:40, but the doctor had a delivery. I think she showed up around 12:30. I was hungry. We talked to her for a while and then they gave me the sedative and I started the ride to the OR. I vaguely remember getting strapped to the table and looking around. Then I woke up in the recovery room. M said the surgery took about 20 minutes. I didn’t wake up for about an hour, so he had to wait and be nervous in the waiting room. I just laid in the recovery area for a while listening to the people around me. M came back, I had some crackers and changed and they sent me home.

I haven’t had any problems. Just like last time, I feel physically fine. I ate a ton of food when we got home and just kind of laid around. I had a little bit of cramping, but one advil took care of that. I started bleeding yesterday and I’m happy. It seems that my body is realizing that I’m not pregnant and I can stop having sore boobs.

M was supposed to go to a bachelor party over the weekend, but he stayed home with us. I think that was pretty nice of him. He told me that he couldn’t imagine leaving us and I’m glad he didn’t. We talked about how we feel about this loss and how it is different from before. We cried together and talked some more.

Having W does make this easier. We have been so focused on him and trying to get him better that we sometimes forget about what happened to me.

Wednesday

I took W to daycare late. Everything seems better with him around, so we cuddled in the morning and played together for a while. I dropped him off around 10 and everyone was asking why he was late. At least no one asked when we’re going to have another (they ask me at least once a week). I just said that we wanted to spend some time together (that was true).

M picked me up and we went to the fancy ultrasound place. I couldn’t see the screen, but M could. The tech was nice. She knew what was going on and was kind and told me what she was going to do. She did an abdominal scan first then let me pee and did an internal*. When she was measuring the sack, I saw M step closer and lean in a little bit. I could see his face. It’s not like I had any hope that we’d be told everything was ok, but I watched him just in case. When he stepped away and leaned against the door again, I knew for sure. The scan probably took 20 minutes. I started to get bored. They should have something on the ceiling in there.

We had to wait for a while to talk to their doctor. The tv in the waiting room was showing the Match Game. We got pretty involved. It felt so surreal. We’re just hanging out waiting for a doctor to verify that we don’t have a baby and we’re arguing about fill in the blank questions and giggling about the 70s outfits. The doctor finally called us back and we had a brief conversation in the hallway. He knew this was out 3rd and actually said “at least you know you are fertile” and we told him that we have a son, so we can even have a baby. I couldn’t be mad about the comment. He was trying so hard.

So then we had 1.5 hours to spend before the next appointment. We went to lunch – Lamb kabobs! – and then to the library. The appointment at my doctors office was more than I expected. I had to pee in a cup again, I had to get weight and blood pressure again. When I got into the exam room, the nurse asked if I was going to need to get undressed. I said no. I can’t talk to doctors with no pants on. She came in (I had never met this doctor before) and we talked about my options. I could wait it out, get some meds to start cramping or a d&c. M and I had talked at lunch about what we wanted to do. We both agreed that a d&c was what we wanted. I just wanted it over with. I don’t want to spend a few days sitting in my house bleeding. I’ve already done that once before. It’s too much emotionally. It’s not for me. After we made the decision, I had to take my pants off for another quick exam. No ultrasound (I definitely didn’t want to see it again), but she had to look at stuff for her notes and for the surgery.

Then off to wait for more bloodwork (HCG, Progesterone and a typical blood type). While I was waiting for the blood, a lady came over to give me the appointment for the d&c. I was happy to have it so quickly. I hate waiting. I have to be at the hospital at 9:45 on Friday, surgery is at 11:40.

We went shopping after the appointment. Why not? I’ve been wearing threadbare jeans that I wasn’t going to replace because I was going to be in Maternity pants soon anyway. We went straight to kohl’s and I bought 2 new pairs of good jeans. Then we picked up W and went home.

After dinner, I sat down to call the moms. I think this part is worse than the appointments we had today. It was better than last time – at least I wasn’t breaking their hearts because they were dreaming about another grandbaby. They didn’t know anything, so this was completely out of the blue. M’s mom cried and asked lots of questions. My mom (a nurse) was more quiet and got off the phone in just a few minutes. My dad called a few minutes later (the call from him last time was the most emotional of them all). He was crying (now I’m crying) and told me that he knew we’d be ok. He said it just like this: “I know you guys will be ok … … … I hope.” And I just starting laughing. “Did you just say you HOPE we’ll be ok???? What a vote of confidence!!” And he started laughing and that was wonderful. I felt much better.

W has not wanted to leave my side since Tuesday afternoon. It’s like he knows. He just wants me to hold him or sit next to him. He won’t let go of me at daycare. He’s something special. I’m so thankful to have him.

I’ll update again after Friday. I like having a record of everything that happens.

*Side note – with this internal scan, she gave me the wand to stick in there. That was awkward. I’ve never had to do that before. Maybe it’s less awkward than the doctor sticking it up there? Maybe they are both equally awkward? Maybe I’m just awkward?

Tuesday

The appointment was at 4, so I had the entire day to wait. I felt pretty nervous and tried to talk myself out of it. After all, I had my symptoms and everything seemed great. I did look up blighted ovum at one point, thinking that if I could just see the statistics, I would feel better. I was sweaty and had a stomachache by the time I was in the doctor’s office. M was with me, so we just kind of sat there and didn’t talk about anything.

The doctor came in and did the normal check up stuff and talked to me a little before starting the ultrasound. She started looking around and I could see the sack. She got closer and scanned through the sack once without seeing anything. I still had hope at this point. I grabbed M’s hand as she went through a second time, much slower. Still nothing. She measured the sack, but couldn’t get the machine to give the dating measurement. She said it looked small. After a little more looking, she turned it off and we talked about it. She asked if my dates could be off. I told her that I had a positive test on the 21st. That is way too early to not see anything by now. She agreed. She left so I could get dressed. When she came back, I had an appointment at a nearby ultrasound place for Wednesday and a follow up with a different doctor afterwards.

We were upset. M was stoic. He waited with me while I had some blood drawn. We sat next to another couple who were smiling and giggling to each other. I went home and M went to pick up W. Then we didn’t do anything for the rest of the evening. I emailed my bosses to tell them what happened and a girl in my office so she could pick up some work that I needed done on Wednesday.

I had lots of support. Two friends who knew and my internet group. It was like I had 20 people on standby waiting for my news.

This isn’t as bad as last time. It was early. We never got our hopes up. We have W. But I’m still angry and constantly yelling FUCK in my mind.

Empty sack.

Not much else to say really. I have another ultrasound with a high-tech machine tomorrow at 11. Then a follow up at my doctor's office at 1:30.

So I'm pissed off.

And, unfortunately, stuck with my pollyanna attitude that keeps nagging me: At least it happened now and not a month from now! Isn't it better this way?

Coming out

I came out last night to my MOPS group. Not that I’m pregnant, but about being a baby loss mom. It was freeing and, of course, amazing to hear their stories as well. We were a table of 9 women: 3 had experienced miscarriages, 2 had suffered infertility and 1 had a stillborn baby girl. That is 6 out of 9, much higher that I would have thought.

The topic of the night was depression (and counseling) and I wasn’t too eager to go. I was very upset after my miscarriages, but I never considered myself depressed. I was grieving and crying a lot, but never lost hope or felt like life wasn’t worth living. Depression isn’t really on my radar. But I listened to the speaker because I wanted to know what she had been through and I want to be able to be a good listener in case someone I know needs help.

After the speaker, we went back to our groups and discussed. It started off generic and then went deeper when one girl at our table started talking about her daughter, stillborn at 39 weeks. I knew a little background about her, she has 2 living children and one angel (as she is listed in the newsletter). I had been wanting to ask her about it, but we’re not close and I didn’t want to be too intrusive.* She talked about how she struggled with depression even before she lost her daughter and how counseling had helped her. Another girl talked about deaths in her family and the parish counseling she received. Another talked about feeling lost in college and going to a support group. So I brought up the internet. I said that I went through two miscarriages and found support and hope with girls online. It was the only place that I could find others who knew what I felt and didn’t wish I would just stop talking about it already. I saw others nodding and I went on and ended up explaining the ALI world online. That brought out stories from 2 other girls about their losses. As the conversations led to smaller groups talking, the girl next to me told me about her struggle to get pregnant. Then the girl on the other side told me about her infertility while holding her 5 month old daughter – from a donor embryo. It brought our little group to the next level. In a weird way, it made me happier to be there.

I was asked several times when we are planning to have another. It’s hard for me to lie outright, so I just said, “Sometime soon, I hope!” which is the exact honest truth.

As for my normal life: 6 weeks, 5 days pregnant. I’m starting to get tired and my boobs are huge. All great signs. I’m counting down the hours until Tuesday at 4 pm. In the meantime, I’m trying not to think of adorable ideas of how to tell our families and not committing to upcoming bachelorette parties.

*Tangent: I have the impression that parents want to talk about their babies that aren’t here. I mean, I’ll talk to you about my babies if you ask. I know bringing it up won’t remind her of her daughter – everything brings those memories back. So I had been thinking of ways to ask her. But I hadn’t been given the opportunity to talk to her one on one and I’m not brave enough to create that situation.

First milestone!

We passed the first milestone. This is officially more successful than my least successful pregnancy.

Today I am 5 weeks and 3 days pregnant. I don't feel pregnant, but I don't feel not pregnant. That's the thing about this time around - I'm not really focused on being pregnant. I actually forget all the time. I remember twice a day - breakfast (when I take my vitamins and baby aspirin) and dinner (when I don't drink wine).

We don't talk about this pregnancy at home. I know M is worried, but neither one of us wants to get the other worked up. He does mention to me every once in a while something small, like, "Did you take your medicine today?" and "Make your drink now so you can fake it."

We were out shopping over the weekend and I saw the most adorable big brother t-shirt that was on sale. I asked M if we should get it just in case and he said no. We could come back and get it when we need it. I wouldn't have bought it anyway, not now. We'll tell our parents after we see a heartbeat and that appointment isn't for another 2 weeks (Jan 17, 4 pm). I agreed that I'd rather not have to put the shirt in a drawer to find some other day. We have enough stuff like that in drawers around the house already.

W news: He stopped sucking his thumb over the holidays and that means his naps went to crap. I told M that in a few years we'll forget how rough this no-nap time was with him and we'll tell other people how we're fantastic parents and we got our toddler to stop thumb sucking at 19 months old.

Feeling better about this

Here is today's test (on the right). It is looking much darker and feels real. I also have a very dark line on a First Response, but I sent myself the wrong picture this morning... Oh no!

I told M about it this morning. I wanted to wait for Christmas, but I can not keep a secret to save my life, especially one this big! He was grinning all morning!

EDD is Sept 2nd. I'll call for the first appointment on the 27th. I still think it's too early to call the doctor.

I'm so happy to see so many familiar names in my comments. You all have a special place in my heart and it makes me feel warm and cozy to know you're still out there.

VFP?

You can't see it on the pictures. I can see something at home. Of course I'll keep testing!

I wasn't haveing symptoms yesterday and pretty much talked myself out of testing this morning. But I woke up and my boobs felt huge and achy, so I waited until DH was shaving (in the guest bathroom) and tested and hid it in a drawer until I could take the picture. I didn't tell him because he would really think I was crazy right now!