The Best Surprise Ever

   I'll be honest.  I'm terrified to even be back on this blog.  I feel as though my trips here always become short visits instead of 9 month staycations.   Still, I'm grateful to be able to go back and read the previous posts I've made, and though they make me sad, they also remind me of the happiness I felt before everything went to crap.  I still love those babies, so every memory of them is one I want to keep.

    Now for the reason I'm here.  After a year long break from actively trying to conceive, we made the decision to go back to treatments.  Our IUI resulted in a positive HPT at 9dpo, which blew my mind.  Then came the fear.  The first beta at 12dpo was 50, at 14dpo was 174 (though this was done at a different lab, and I was told the results may not be as accurate if I used different labs), and 527 at 18dpo.  I freaked.  That's a 57.5 hour doubling time between the last two betas.  Still "normal", but not great.  Especially considering our last loss began that way with a slower doubling time.  Lots of tears were shed, and the wait for our first ultrasound at 5w5d was torture.  I kept taking tests expecting them to get lighter, but they didn't.  So then I questioned whether they were dark enough.  If you're infertile or have ever been through a miscarriage, you know the drill.  When ultrasound day came, we saw a gestational sac and yolk sac, and I couldn't believe it.  They do not look for a fetal pole or heartbeat this early or take measurements, so that gave me something else to freak out over for the next week.  Would we see everything was ok next time?  What if a fetal pole never showed up?  I was freaking out.

     This week, we went in for another ultrasound at 6w6d.  I kept my eyes closed and my head turned away from the screen.  Our first baby had stopped growing at 6w4d, so I was terrified that I'd see the same small dot as last week with no growth.  It was a different doctor doing my ultrasound this time, and when she asked, "Were there two last time?" it took me a few seconds to figure out what she was talking about.  I said, "Two what?  Babies?  No, just the one."  I figured she thought we'd had two and one had vanished or something.  Then she said, "Well, there are two today!"  Cue the tears and me losing my mind.  I turned my head to the screen in time for her to move from one baby to the other, and then I began just shooting off questions between freak outs of "Oh my God!"  I asked whether they both had heartbeats, and she said they did.  I asked how many pm, and she said they don't have the equipment to calculate that (WHAT?  This is a fertility clinic that's part of one of the best known hospitals in the country!) but that she'd estimate they were both around 140bpm.  I asked if they were measuring ok, and she said about 6w6d.  More crying and freaking out and asking if she was sure.  She walked out and Matt and I just looked at each other in disbelief.  Baby B totally sneaked up on us!  And we are so happy!  We never hoped for twins.  We know twin pregnancies come with extra risks and that it's going to be expensive and difficult.  But you know what?  We have nothing to compare it to.  We expect it to be hard, and it will be.  And now we could have two babies instead of one, and we always wanted more than one.  So, while we are nervous, we are so excited and we want so badly for both these babies to keep growing and being strong.

    When doing treatments to get pregnant, you tend to lose the surprise factor, and while it really doesn't matter at that point, and you just want the treatment to work, I always felt a little robbed knowing that the element of surprise was really kind of an impossibility.  You know how many follicles you have, you know what day each step happened.  It's just not a great story to remember most of the time.  But this....it's more than I could have ever hoped for.  It's the best surprise ever.

Goodbye Again

Well....Right now I have to wonder if I'll ever be able to stay here for a whole 9 months.  I don't know why the hell we can't keep our babies.  It's bullshit.  I was so hopeful when my first two betas were 22 and then 78, but when it only went up to 148 in 51.5 hours, I got nervous.  My doctor was not concerned, and she is incredibly thorough and cautious, so I tried to be positive, but my heart seems to always know what my doctors do not.  Today, my hcg was only 150.  It has only risen by 2 in a little less than 48 hours.  I don't know why this is happening.  I don't know how to move on.  I have no idea where to go from here.  What's wrong that is causing us to have so much trouble?  I did EVERYTHING right this time.  I had lost weight, I was super on top of things with my thyroid, I did the neupogen injections, I went in for a progesterone shot that hurt like hell just in case, I ate the hell out of organic fruits and veggies, and I took it easy like I was told to.  So, why am I sitting here heartbroken once again?  I had such a good feeling about this pregnancy in the beginning, and then I woke up with a feeling of dread this morning, and that feeling was the same feeling I felt on the night of Dec. 11, when I had an ultrasound the next day that would confirm my fear that my baby no longer had a heartbeat.  Right now, a part of me never wants to be pregnant again.  I don't think it will ever be any less than completely terrifying and heartbreaking.  I have another beta tomorrow just to confirm what we already know (and probably for my doctor to rule out an ectopic).  I wish I could just stop the progesterone and not draw this out.  My heart can't take this.

Wicks 2.0 in the Works

Well, it's been a long time since I posted here.  Longer than I imagined it would take for me to get pregnant again.  But by some magic that doesn't yet seem real, I have reason to post here again.  Apparently, our disaster of an IUI worked.  We didn't relax.  We didn't go on vacation.  We didn't adopt.  We stressed and planned and had a million things going on at once.  Matt worked a million hours, and I got the ball rolling on our move and house hunting in between follicle scan appointments.  And somehow, here we are.  This morning, when I tested, I left the strip on the counter after a minute like I always do, because I've come to expect it to be negative if it doesn't look positive right away.  But when I went back to the bathroom a while later, I noticed something VERY faint, but I couldn't trust it because it had been sitting there too long.  But after retesting 4 hours later (with 3 more tests of various brands and an OPK for the hell of it), that suspicious line on the first test was confirmed.

 Since my miscarriage a year and a half ago, I have thought a lot about how I'd handle telling people when and if I was pregnant again.  Part of me was always angry that by trying to wait until our trip home at 10ish weeks to tell my dad and some of my sisters about my pregnancy, I ended up only getting to tell that that our trip home for Christmas would be postponed by my D&C for the baby they never knew I was carrying.  So, this time, I decided to enjoy and celebrate this pregnancy for as long as we can.  My progesterone is being monitored, my thyroid was just checked, and the rest is pretty much out of our hands for now, so I plan to do all I can to act as if I am any other pregnant woman just going about my life expecting a healthy and happy baby in 9 months.  I'll probably go for a beta tomorrow and two days later to make sure things are progressing as they should, and I'll get an ultrasound at 6 weeks and another at 8, but I will try my hardest to not live every day in fear like I did before.  There is no way to prepare for the pain of losing a baby, so why experience it until you have to?   I'll cherish every minute with this baby.

I decided today to go ahead and share our news with my close friends (including my incredible friends in my infertility support group), our parents, and one of my sisters so that we can celebrate this life right now with those who have given us so much love and support over the last 2.5 years.  We are so lucky to have people in our lives who care so much for us and have encouraged and prayed for us.  I hope we will be sharing the birth of our new baby with them in early January of next year :)

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.