The Meanest Trick Ever Played

  My visit to the "other side" was not meant to be permanent, I guess.  Maybe that's why I never felt I "belonged"...because maybe in my heart I knew I wouldn't get to stay.  It's normal to have worries, but I do think there was a part of me deep down that had a feeling this wasn't a take home baby.

   Yesterday, at an ultrasound I begged my OB to schedule because I was feeling uncertain, they couldn't find a heartbeat.  The baby somehow only measured 5.5 weeks, and they told me to prepare myself for a miscarriage unless I wanted to go ahead with a D&C.  I told them I had plans to go home to see my family for Christmas.  That I haven't seen my dad or most of my sisters or grandparents in a year.  They said that they didn't recommend traveling while waiting for the miscarriage to happen, since I might need medical attention.  At that time, I wasn't ready to accept what was happening and thought that I wouldn't need a D&C.  I had gone to that appointment alone, because I didn't want my husband to miss anymore work for my ultrasound appointments when we'd surely have plenty more.  So, I left there sobbing uncontrollably in front of everyone in the whole hospital (because, of course, they don't make access to that office easy).

    I went home and called my RE, because I thought that surely the ultrasound tech at the OB's office was incompetent.  There had been a heartbeat two days ago.  Why wouldn't there be still?  He had me come in this morning, and after messing with the wand for a few minutes, he said, "I'm sorry, honey.  I'm not seeing a heartbeat today. So, we need to discuss your options."  My options to get rid of this baby that I have been waiting for for so long.  I am so torn.  One part of me wants to hold out hope and think they were wrong.  Another part of me wants to do the D&C as soon as possible so that I can stop feeling pregnant and knowing that my baby isn't alive. I go from feeling numb to feeling like my heart is going to explode.  I feel totally robbed, and I feel like God is really pushing my faith.  I can't even try to understand how this could be part of His plan, but right now I wish it hadn't involved giving me a baby that I can't keep and losing it so close to Christmas.

   On the way to my ultrasound yesterday, a song that I found appropriate came on the radio, and I sang to my baby for the first and last time.

Uncertainty, go away.

   I had another ultrasound today at what should be 7 weeks and 6 days, but baby Wicks is still measuring behind at 6 weeks, 4 days.  Still trying not to freak out, since there was still a heartbeat and everything else looks good at this point, but I had really hoped to find some comfort and reassurance before making a long trip home.  I'd like to tell my family and our close friends without fear looming over me to this extent.  I have an appointment with my regular OB tomorrow, since my RE is transferring care over to her, so I feel that that's a good sign.  Hopefully, he feels everything is stable enough for me to go ahead and start seeing her.  I may beg her to check for an audible heartbeat, since my RE didn't check for one other than to see it.  On to another topic, my dogs have been super annoying.  I love these creatures beyond reason, but they are killing me by barking and pacing around the back door every five seconds the minute I lay down for a nap.  They must also be conspiring with friends and family to keep me awake, because I get more calls and texts when I'm trying to nap than the whole rest of the day.  This applies no matter what time nap time is.  I'd also like to note that my nutritional choices today have been....interesting.  I have eaten a nutrition bar, Pringles, pickle juice, and frozen mango.  I really wanted an actual pickle, but Matt is a tricky beast who left an empty pickle jar in the fridge.  I really need to do something like this.  Maybe I'll pour out all his beer, and put the tops back on the bottles, and his life will be ruined when he realizes they are all empty.  He's lucky I'm not down with wasting money.

Infertile Brain

     So, at our ultrasound Monday, baby Wicks measured a week behind.  I have been a little concerned about this, because I'm so sure of when I ovulated, so I know it isn't a matter of my dates being off by that much.  I sometimes wish I could be one of those women who are clueless about their bodies, their cycles, and basically everything pregnancy related, so that I wouldn't worry so much, but unfortunately, knowledge is important to me.  Even if there isn't much I can do with it at this point.  I am holding on to hope that seeing a heartbeat was a good sign that everything is going to be ok.

     Today, I went to Target to buy Preggie Pop Drops as a more natural nausea remedy, and as I browsed the baby and maternity sections (unsuccessfully), I couldn't help but to feel like I was out of place.  It was like it was a "members only" part of the store that I always rushed by before to spare myself the upset of seeing all the sweet baby things, and I still feel like I don't really "belong" there.  I hope that everything will be ok, and that I'll get to buy things for myself there in the near future.

    On another note, I have been thinking a lot about gratitude and infertility.  Yes, seriously.  As in those two things being related.  Although I didn't suffer what many people with an infertility diagnosis do, I do know what it feels like to have everyone around you be pregnant with little to no effort while you cry yourself to sleep in fear that you may never have biological children or that there is something wrong with you.  I know what it's like to be put through tests and tons of bloodwork only to find no solutions other than those that are extremely expensive and come with no guarantees.  Even though it caused me so much pain, bitterness, sadness, despair, and low self esteem, I don't think I'd change it if I could.  That's because I've made wonderful friends who have supported me and offered me REAL advice when I asked for it, I've grown as a person and become more prepared for what motherhood means, it's given Matt a chance to prepare more, and it's let me see how strong my marriage really is.  My husband is seldom serious about anything when I try to have a talk with him, but when I hit my all time low and didn't know what to do or what he was willing to go through with me to make parenthood a reality, he reassured me that he'd do whatever I needed him to, and that if we never had children, he would be accepting of that.  I know it works out for lots of people, but I'm honestly glad that I'm not one of the people that end up with an accidental pregnancy that they have to learn to deal with, because I am so glad to get the experience of loving and wanting this baby before "it" was even conceived.  I guess, in a way, I'm lucky.

     Now, Lord, please let my ultrasound on Monday bring good news.


 

Handing it Over

   I always imagined that once I got pregnant, I'd just live happily ever after.   I thought the hard part would be over.  It doesn't appear that that's the case.  I am not sure why I thought this, since one of the reasons I was scared to have children before is the quote, "Making the decision to have a child is momentous. It is to decide forever to have your heart go walking around outside your body."  I have always been a worrier.  Especially when it comes to my loved ones.  After my dad's first heart attack (yes, first...), I had dreams all the time that he had died, and I would wake up feeling that pain of losing someone.  I even have dreams about my dogs drowning and that I can't save them ever since I found out that English bulldogs typically cannot swim.  So, I'm not sure why I thought that once the torture of seeing negative tests month after month was over and I had successfully begun creating a human, I wouldn't be equally as worried.  I spent the first week after finding out I was pregnant expecting it not to last.  It sounds awful, I know, but I just couldn't imagine that anything could be good or easy at this point.  Obviously, there are people who have had journeys much harder and longer than mine, but mine is all I have experienced, and that was enough for me to believe that nothing was going to come easy for us when it came to making babies.  So, I continued taking pregnancy tests to make sure that the lines kept getting darker, meaning HCG levels were continuing to rise.  I was also having my HCG and progesterone checked every other day, so the pregnancy tests were unnecessary, maybe, but who cares?  This cycle of lab work, worry, repeat continued until my first ultrasound at 6 weeks.  I felt slightly less panicked after seeing that all was there that should have been there, but I'm still anxious, of course.  What if we don't hear a heartbeat when we are supposed to?  What if at this next ultrasound Monday there is no fetal pole?  Why do I even know what a fetal pole is?  Why can't I be like most women who get to be completely ignorant to the whole process and just go in at 8-12 weeks and say, "Oh, look!  There's my baby!  Cool!  Back to doing whatever I want in complete confidence that I'll have a totally healthy baby!"  Before the ultrasound, I thought, "Once I have this ultrasound, I'll be able to relax."  Then I thought, "Well, once I have that healthy baby in my arms, I'll relax."  Ha!  That's when the real worrying is going to start.  I already check that Matt is breathing sometimes when he's asleep.  I realize now just how much I am going to have to hand it over to God.  I can't possibly live the rest of my life terrified what could happen to this little life. I know I won't be able to not have any worry, but I know it's mostly out of my hands.  I'll try to remember this next time I am ready to freak out, but I can't promise anything.